The Seeds We Plant

Look around this room, ATX 30. Take a breath. Take it in.
Look at where we finished, and where we had to begin.
Before I drop another verse, before this chapter is closed,
I need to tell you a truth that my heart has proposed:
You are, without a doubt, some of my favorite people.
And I mean that. To the bone.
Because in this room, none of us had to heal on our own.

Before I walked through these doors, I answered to so many names,
Carrying heavy titles, playing the world’s heavy games.
A student, a war fighter, a commander in the fight,
An engineer, a boss, a trader working through the night.
A husband, a father, a dancer, a friend…
But beneath all those roles I used to defend,
I had totally forgotten that I was once just a kid.
Just wanting to have fun, beneath everything I did.
Wild, open, and free, without any resistance,
Just wanting to enjoy this beautiful human existence.

I said it at Level 2, and I’ll say it out loud,
This is the Wizard of Oz School, hidden right in the crowd.
We came here for courage, to be brave like the Lion,
For the brains of the Scarecrow, just thinkin’ and tryin’.
We reached like the Tin Man to open our heart,
To feel every feeling and play a new part.
But despite all our searching for brains, heart, and might,
To battle the flying monkeys out in the night…
Deep down inside, where the magic still glows,
We all just want to be present, and happy… like Toto.

And just like Dorothy waking up, looking ’round at her friends,
I see the beautiful faces where my own journey blends.
I didn’t just learn from the front of the room,
I learned from the light that helped all of us bloom:
From Debs, I learned that power can hide in a smile,
From TaBetha — to forgive those who wronged you, and stand for their vision: reconcile.
From Gwinneth and Hayli, who cried and danced out of season —
At odd times, for no good reason… and every right reason.
From Ashley and Gwendolyn — that you can work your butt off all day
And still show up smiling in the evening anyway.
From Jamie, I learned that black hearts always win,
From Cindy — that whenever you walk through the door, you walk all the way in.
From Ciannah, my buddy — to keep smiling and trying when the odds say to fold,
From Jules — how to stand for yourself, uncomfortable and bold.
From Conner and Garner, just nineteen years in,
Already doing the work most wait whole lifetimes to begin.
From Angie and Jessica — how to bring the ENERGY:
Sad, mad, tired, or just… — it’s who you choose to be.
From Page, my Zoom buddy — grace in full view,
Smiling through pressures that would break me in two.
From Adam — that there’s a joke for every occasion,
From Isaac — that some men lead by sheer natural persuasion.
From Michael — how to shift to a new gear without fear,
From David T — that staying open and coachable is how you steer.
From Joshua — how to own your name and wear it with pride,
From Rion — who fought for all of our hearts, the whole ride.
From Timmy and Ezra, to love people until their own love appears,
From Dave F — that the right pair of arms can hold forty years.
All of us seeds in one garden — no two of us the same,
And look at the harvest we became.
And from Noel, the shortest lesson, and still the supreme:
How to be TEAM.
You were all there with me, through the laughter and tears,
Holding the mirror and calming the fears.

They call this an Academy, but there’s no desk and no board,
Just the deeply raw places that we finally explored.
It’s a masterclass in Leadership, leading first from within,
Facing our shadows to let the real work begin.
And it is a true Ascension, because look how we rise,
Taking the ceiling and launching it straight to the skies!

Because we walked in here heavy, carrying the weight,
Of our Rackets and old stories dictating our fate.
We were stopped by our NERDs, those quiet little lies,
Those negative voices that covered our eyes.
But we stood in the fire, we picked at the locks,
And we dropped those self-limiting beliefs in the box.
We peeled back the masks that we used to defend,
To finally see clearly, to finally mend.

Because growth isn’t passive, it isn’t just talk,
It’s a daily commitment, a stretch in our walk.
We learned how to stretch past the lines that we drew,
To step out of comfort and try something new.
The Controller let go of the need to command,
The Analyzer stopped overthinking the plan.
The Supporter spoke up and reclaimed their own might,
And the Promoter just listened, and held space for the night.

And ATX 30, we know what it means to be stuck at the start,
When we let the ego drive instead of the heart.
Now, I confess — I showed up after the scene of the crime.
(I missed the red-red exercise. Impeccable timing.)
But I walked into the legend: the notorious red-red team,
Voting each other down, ripping the seam.
(And I told everyone in my life: “I just joined a red-red team —
and I’m not leaving these people till we’re playing black-black.”)
It was a lose-lose battle, a scarcity fight,
But this team refused to stay hidden in the dark of the night.

We flipped the entire board. We changed the track.
We shifted from red-red to playing black-black!
Win-win became the standard, a beautiful art,
Filling up the Slack channels with the all-black heart. 🖤
And look what happens when a team plays for the whole:

We traded the lie that we’d always been taught,
Chasing the “Have,” doing the “Do,” and getting caught.
Have, Do, Be — that’s the trap. It’s the illusion we spun,
A never-ending hustle out beneath the hot sun.
But this space flipped the script, broke the cycle in two,
We traded our “ways of doing” for a “way of being” true.
It starts with the Be. You declare your own light.
Then you Do from that space, and you Have what is right.

And part of that being is the question we’re asking:
Am I giving right now, or am I taking?
(Last time the votes were counted, I was sixty-one percent giver.
Good news: I’ve still got thirty-nine percent left to deliver.)
And the incredibly good news, the reason I rejoice?
Whether I give or I take — it is my conscious choice.

But when the high of the record starts to fade away,
How do we get back to our ideal being today?
In ALA, we build a Contract. Three words we recite,
Like reaching in the pitch black and turning on a reading light.
When your vision goes dark and you can’t find your way,
Your Contract illuminates the steps in the gray.

But make no mistake — a Contract’s not kept on a shelf,
It’s not a quiet agreement you made with yourself.
No, a Contract is a promise to us. To the crew.
It’s a pact with the world on how we experience you.

When the old fears creep up, when we’re drifting apart,
We look at each other and speak to the heart.
We ask, “What is your Contract?” to cut through the dark,
To reignite the embers and summon the spark.
For me, I stand tall, doing all that I can,
And I say: And what does the room say? What’s the battle cry we roar?
We scream it right back: “YES YOU ARE!!” right to the core.

And from that fierce being, we look to the horizon,
We declare a big Vision, unapologetic and rising.
Because leaders don’t wait for the world to just play,
We wake up and ask: “What are you creating today?”
We look at each other, refusing to settle,
We ask, “What’s your Vision?” and test our own mettle.
We are the authors. We are the flame.
We are designing the board, not just playing the game.

But we don’t do it alone — we step up as Angels,
We hold the container, we untangle the tangles.
When we enroll our Legacies, we don’t just hold the door,
We stand for their vision, and then we stand for more.
When the old patterns pull and they’re ready to break,
We stand in the Drift for their future’s sake.

And we weren’t the first ones to walk through this fire.
Someone stood for us first. Someone lifted us higher.
To our Seniors — own time, own dime, a door already crossed,
You came back through the fire so we wouldn’t stay lost:
Lauren — who loves you the size of your vision, not the size of your excuse,
Andrew — who knows your Contract by heart… so hiding is no use.
Becca — who asks the one question that opens the lock,
Jacqueline — who steadies the storm, our shelter, our rock.
Brittini — whose light walks in before she’s through the door…
You finished your own climbs, then came back down for more.
And Brad and Brad — Barnes and Ballard — hand in glove,
One message: play to win. One way of being: ALL LOVE.
Jenna — you caught me observing, just taking in the view,
You taught me you can’t watch the traffic without being traffic too.
Cassidy — you taught us the love we give starts deep within,
That we can’t pour out to others till we’ve learned to love our own skin.
And Joel — our Captain — you steered when we couldn’t see land,
You held twenty-five hearts in the palm of your hand.
You once called me out for trying to fix everyone I see…
You were half right, Captain. The one I was fixing was me.
You planted your seeds in us, row after row —
So look at us now, Joel. Watch your garden grow.

There’s a line from Hamilton that echoes to me,
A profound little question about destiny.
Lin-Manuel wrote:
“What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.”
(Though Joel got to see his. Some gardeners get lucky.)
And here in ALA, we know that word well.
It’s the literal code that we use to propel.

When we bring someone in, to begin their own start,
We hand them that word right out of our heart.
You type in L-E-G-A-C-Y at the checkout screen,
And bam — two grand drops off the machine.

It’s a discount code. A break on the fee.
But let’s be honest about what that word really means to you and me.
Because, sure… on one hand, it removes a financial price,
But on the other? It gives you back your entire life.

It buys back your freedom. It buys back your voice.
It turns your default settings into a powerful choice.
The discount is just the doorway; the code is just the key,
But the actual transaction is the courage to finally be free.