“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

No one ever told my mother to dream.

She grew up in 1950s Georgia, where nothing of importance was expected of little black girls, yet without a high school degree, she scrapped her way up from rural poverty to build a wonderful life for me and my siblings. Often having to balance two manufacturing jobs, she worked tirelessly to make sure her kids had the opportunity to dream. I’m sure she had a dream once, but it was buried under her circumstances.

Her dream was buried, under the thumb of Jim Crow in the South.
Her dream was buried, under the expectations of being a woman in the 1960s.
Her dream was buried, under the realities of growing up in rural poverty.

Society tried to bury her and her dream, but her hard work and faith prevailed. Her buried dream, watered through sacrifice, sprouted up to become me and my siblings.

Every day, I live in service of her long-forgotten dream. I’m going to dedicate my life to making sure every kid, family and community has the freedom to do what my mother never could.

Dream.

— Terrance Rogers