It’s Thanksgiving 2024, so naturally a lot of thoughts of gratitude and reflection.
The Shopping Cart on the Left – Economic Mobility and My Starting Line
See the shopping cart on the left? That’s my brother and me. Why are there pillows and blankets in the cart? Well, that’s where we slept (we didn’t have a crib or bed). Why is this shopping cart outside in the front yard of a house? Well, we grew up without electricity and it’s unbearably hot without AC or fans in Florida so we napped in a well-intentioned permanently borrowed (ok stolen) cart outside. This is what poverty looks like – well, my childhood poverty anyway.
The Shopping Cart on the Right
Now look at the shopping cart on the right – taken today. Yes yes, we all love Buc-ee’s, but this is not about that. Sometimes when I push a cart, I think of when it used to be my bed and how different my life is now. I’m so grateful that I’m able to grab as much roadtrip snacks as my family can consume (except for the kid who chose to eat hard boiled eggs in the car, what the…). We are on the way to Thanksgiving with a stop in gorgeous historic Savannah at a hotel (hotel with an h, not an m).
This is economic mobility. It refers to people’s ability to improve their economic status over the course of their lifetime.
Of course I would not have called it that growing up – I just knew I wanted a safe and better life – to get out of the poverty and chaos I was born into. I achieved it though education, continuous learning, skilling up, great employers, and scores of teachers / mentors / coaches (who mean everything to my professional career). I am also relentlessly DRIVEN.
I share this not for sympathy or adulation; I deserve neither. I share this because I am so grateful to the individuals and institutions that power economic mobility. It deeply matters. Now my greatest satisfaction is helping others in their pursuit of betterment.
A drive not just to get by, but to build something better.
That experience carved something fundamental in me: a drive not just to get by, but to build something better. Over time, I realized that the journey wasn’t simply about escaping poverty, but about leaning into the idea that education, continuous learning and the right mentors could change the trajectory. As a leader today, that awakening shows up in two ways:
- First, I bring a deep empathy for people who start from a less-advantaged place—because I’ve lived it. That shapes how I lead, how I form teams, and how I create opportunity.
- Second, I lean into the mission of democratizing access—to skill-building, to meaningful work, to leadership—because I know what it feels like on the other side of the cart. That purpose anchors many of the decisions I make.
In short: recognizing this wasn’t just my story, but my springboard, transformed how I see leadership, not as a title or a destination, but as the capacity to pull others up alongside you.
It’s why it’s real natural for me to feel connected to the mission of General Assembly and all the work we do with governments, nonprofits, universities, and companies investing in people. I’m drawn to others who share this purpose.
- To all you mentors out there, we need you. Keep opening doors for others.
- To those trying to make their life better, you got this. Don’t give up.
- To all my education and workforce industry peers, what a great mission we serve. Believe me, I know.
I memorized this poem that sits on page 1 of a 📚 book I received in 1988 from my 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Palovich. In less than 30 minutes, I had this new treasure of a poem etched in my 🧠 brain. This book has traveled with me to every new 🏠 home since 3rd grade. Somewhere along the way, a frenetic puppy named Wendy chewed the cover right off (still very MAD at you 🐕 Wendy, RIP). The Random House Treasury of Best-Loved Poems is the name of this book.
Jourdan Marie Hathaway 