My home was my first musical classroom. My older sister would play DMX's album “It’s Dark and Hell is Hot” in our room, my father would sing along to the Chi-Lites while ironing his uniform, and my mother hummed Chaka Khan as she carefully organized her CDs in that big ol’ album book I wasn’t allowed to touch.

Without stepping outside of our two bedroom apartment, I was exposed to several sub-genres of black music. I was raised to make music my “love language.” At around the age of six, I already felt the power of black music and decided to make that the guiding light of my journey.

Music has been my bible for as long as I can remember — I had lyrics practiced and permanently embedded in my mind like scriptures. My bible study started with Kanye West’s debut album “College Dropout.” I was 13 years old, mentally preparing myself to head into the pits of hell which was high school. When I heard “College Dropout,” I admired and envied how much Kanye  followed his heart and dreams. At 13 years old, I was always unsure of who I was supposed to be and if I was blessed enough to have talent. What I knew for sure was that I loved and knew a lot about music.

“College Dropout” had a way of telling me that I wasn't alone. In many of his songs, Kanye championed believing in his creativity. His lyrics pushed me to audition for a theatre program for school. I got in. School didn't work out for Kanye but I was convinced his small time spent in college ignited some part of his creative fire. I was so much of a fan of his music I thought college would push me to be my utmost creative self and naturally I would find my place in this world.

Boy, was I wrong. 

I started school at Clark Atlanta University in 2008 and I still couldn't find my footing. I had no idea where to start to look for my "purpose.” I over thought what my dream should look like and considered myself talentless. I was the definition of "lost.” All I knew was music, I pretty much hated everything else. I automatically considered myself a failure and carried myself as such. I let this narrative affect me so much that I eventually got kicked out of school.

I played “Heard Em Say” by Kanye West to keep my mind from going to complete waste. I was at my darkest point, ever so I turned to music to keep me from making stupid permanent decisions.

In the words of Lupe Fiasco “Hip Hop Saved My Life.” Literally.

I also have to thank the Fayetteville lyricist, J. Cole. I discovered him my freshman year and instantly became a fan of his mixtapes “The Come Up”, “The Warm Up” & “Friday Night Lights”. J. Cole’s music got me out of bed and that was the first step. I used “The Warm Up” to guide me as much as music could. I listened to songs like “The Badness” to motivate me with lyrics like "believe in God like the sun up in the sky science can tell us how but cant tell us why/ I seen a baby cry and seconds later she laughed/ the beauty of life the pain never last.”

J. Cole’s music really became my gospel, he spoke power into defeated people like me. Cole rapped about being hesitant & broke with what might be a million dollar dream. That was me. As I grew out of my dark era, I let music rebuild faith in myself and put me back on my feet.

Although, I might have mentally checked out during my darkest time, my heart remains open and optimistic because I was oddly fueled by honest soul-bearing music. Black music. Nina Simone taught me to be fearless, Erykah Badu gifted me with self-confidence, Mahalia Jackson’s voice shows me what freedom looked like and I embraced self-awareness with Talib Kweli & Mos Def’s “Black Star” album and from rap groups like A Tribe Called Quest & The Roots.

I have to thank God & music for basically every blessing I receive. Music gifted me with the answer I've been looking for since I was 13-years old — to say that, yes, I am talented and my talent is being unapologetically myself and showing people dope ass music along the way.

For more history makers in the making, check out Spotify's Black History is Happening Now Hub.