The Education Doctor!

She spent $240,000 on tuition…

and still didn’t get the moment she was praying for.

Her daughter didn’t have a prom date.

And I know some people will say, “It’s just prom.”

But when it’s your child, it doesn’t feel small.

Because teen years aren’t just academic.

They’re social.
They’re emotional.
They’re identity-forming.

This mom didn’t choose private school for a nicer building or a more impressive name.

She chose it because she was trying to reduce risk.

Academic risk.
Safety risk.
Social risk.

The public school nearby was considered “good.”

Strong ratings.
Great opportunities.
The kind of school people recommend without hesitation.

But her daughter would have been one of very few Black students.

And when you’re one of a few, you don’t just go to school.

You learn how to perform school.

How to be excellent without being “too much.”
How to speak up without being labeled.
How to belong without shrinking.

So this family chose a private school with more Black students.

Not for prestige.

For peace.

And even though prom didn’t look the way her mom hoped, her daughter still gained something bigger.

She grew up in an environment that didn’t chip away at her confidence.

She found her voice.
She built friendships.
She became herself.

Because sometimes parents aren’t choosing private school to get ahead.

They’re choosing it so their child doesn’t get worn down on the way there.

A “good school” can still be the wrong environment.

What would break your heart faster: a lower ranking… or your child shrinking?

I changed my travel plans to be in the room for this conversation…

And it was worth it.

The BCBR experience has already been powerful, but this session felt different.

Hearing from Joe Hurd, Caretha Coleman, and Thane Kreiner, PhD, and having the conversation thoughtfully moderated by Shannon Nash, Esq., CPA, gave us more than insight. It gave us proximity.

There is something powerful about being in rooms with people who are already doing what you are preparing to step into.

Grateful to connect in person with members of my cohort, Suite 16, and continue building relationships with others on this path.

Excited for what’s ahead and thankful for the growth that comes from being in the right rooms.

Thank you John Driver, NACD.DC, Jeffrey Upperman, Tina Brown, and Tracy S. Harris.

We talk a lot about not playing small.

So why do we let our kids do it?

A mom recently told me:

“My son is doing his best… but I know it’s not his best.”

And honestly, that’s a hard thing to admit.

Because sometimes junior year reveals what families already feel deep down:

Their student is capable of more, but they’ve gotten comfortable doing just enough.

Not because they don’t care, but because they’ve learned how to stay safe, blend in, avoid pressure, or wait until someone pushes them.

The problem is, junior year is not the time to coast.

The next 60–90 days matter. This is when momentum gets built, positioning starts to take shape, and scholarship opportunities are either created or missed.

And if your junior is playing small right now, they probably won’t magically flip a switch in the fall.

It’s not too late, but it is time to stop waiting.

I break this down in my latest LinkedIn newsletter. Go read it there, especially if you have a junior who is capable of more but needs structure, strategy, and a little push to step into it.

A student I’ve been talking with for months is stuck on one question now that decisions are in:

Which school sounds more impressive?

Not which school is the best fit.
Not which school is offering the most support.
Not which option makes the most financial sense.

Just the name.

And that’s the problem.

She attends a school where prestige feels like currency and students measure their worth by the colleges on their acceptance lists. So even though some of her options come with significant money and a stronger overall fit, she’s still leaning toward the school with the bigger name and no scholarships.

That’s where families have to pause.

Because chasing prestige without considering cost is how students inherit financial stress their parents worked hard to avoid.

Ten years from now, people will care a lot less about the name and a lot more about what she did with her college experience and what it cost to get there.

This is why families need a decision-making framework rooted in fit, opportunity, and affordability, not outside validation.

No ranking is worth compromising your family’s financial stability.

How early do you think these conversations about prestige vs. cost should start?

Am I the only person who dislikes having their name shortened?

I get that people want to be familiar, but calling me “Pam” is not it.

Growing up, my mother, oldest sister and a few close friends called me Pamela.

Everyone else?
“Pam.”

And if I’m being honest… I never liked it.

When I left for college, I made a decision:
I would introduce myself the way I want to be known.

Pamela.

It’s in my email, signature and every introduction I make.

And still… almost daily, I find myself correcting someone.

Even in DMs from strangers: “Hi Pam”

Here’s the thing…

It may feel small.
But names matter.

Names carry identity, history and preference.

And when someone tells you their name…
the respectful thing is simple:

Use it.

I was asleep at the wheel for 60 miles a day, driving back and forth to work for months.

I do not remember much about that time, just the weight of trying to hold everything together.

My mom had just died.

Even though we had said our goodbye, I still could not fully process that she was really gone. I would still catch myself thinking, “I need to tell her this,” and then remember I couldn’t.

What made it even harder was that life did not stop. I was still working, still showing up, still being who everyone else needed me to be.

And as moms, we know how to do that almost too well.

I have been thinking about that season a lot lately because several clients and friends have recently lost their mothers. I recognize it right away. The busy-ness. The forgetfulness. The way you keep moving because slowing down feels unbearable.

At the time, I felt completely alone. So I found a group called Daughters Grieving the Loss of their Mothers.

I did not go because I had the right words. I went because I did not.

And being with women who understood what I could not explain changed everything.

What I wish someone had told me then:
You can grieve at your own pace.
Your grief does not have to look like anyone else’s.
And you do not have to carry it alone.

Sometimes healing begins when you finally let yourself stop holding it all together.

I was home with three kids under five when I decided to start graduate school at Stanford.

Big goals rarely come at convenient times, and sometimes the hardest part is not doing the work. It is saying the dream out loud.

That decision changed the course of my life. It led me to earn my doctorate in education, complete my dissertation on Black boys in secondary school, and build a career helping students and families navigate their own paths with clarity and confidence. Years later, it came full circle when my son went to Stanford too.

You never know what can grow from one brave decision spoken aloud.

If you are someone who feels nervous about the college admissions process or just need help making the right decision, comment BRAVE to learn more about how I can help your family.

Sixteen years in business this week and I’ve probably thought about quitting more than 16 times.

When I became an entrepreneur, I thought it would be about freedom and generational wealth. Really, I was just tired. Tired of corporate politics, layoffs, overworking, and never feeling valued.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the mindset shift it takes to build something of your own. The loneliness. The doubt. The people who don’t understand the vision yet.

But as Miss Celie said, I’m still here.

Sixteen years later, our students have earned over $60 million in scholarships, 95% have been admitted to their top-choice colleges, and we’ve served thousands of families around the world.

A few lessons I learned the hard way:
1. Alignment at home matters more than people realize.
2. Stability attracts opportunity.
3. The market will show you where your value truly is.
4. Protect your peace while you build.

Today I run a family business, and having my children now be part of the journey makes it even sweeter.

I’m grateful for every family who trusted us. Grateful for what this journey has taught me. And grateful that through it all, we’re still here.

How many Black teachers did you have growing up?

When I look back, I can count very few.

I had Black teachers in segregated schools, but when I was bused to a magnet program across town, I did not have a single Black teacher for three years. Even across ten years of higher education, I only had four Black professors.

That is part of why stories like Dr. Robin Holmes-Sullivan’s stay with me.

She has shared that she did not have her first Black teacher until she was deep into her PhD program. Imagine how long that is to wait to see yourself reflected in that kind of role.

Now, as the first Black woman and openly LGBTQ person to serve as president of Lewis & Clark College, she has spoken clearly about why that matters: others should not have to wait that long.

Representation in education is about more than optics. It shapes what students believe is possible for their own lives.

And the gap is still real.

Black teachers make up just 6% of public school teachers, while Black students make up 15% of the student population.

In higher education, 7% of college professors are Black, while Black students make up 12.5% of enrolled college students.

Sometimes one teacher, one professor, one person in front of the room can shift how a student sees themselves forever.

When did you first have a teacher who changed how you saw yourself?

A mom recently told me a boy made a monkey sound at her daughter, the only Black girl in the class. It stopped me cold.

So many families choose a “better” school for more opportunity, only to watch their child become quieter, smaller, and less sure of who they are.

I’ve seen high-achieving teens of color find something different in college: places where they do not have to choose between excellence and belonging.

Isolation should not be the price of opportunity.

Have you ever watched a teen shrink in a space that was supposed to help them grow?

If you want, I can make it even shorter in that 30% Instagram style too.