Felicia Kelly Brookins – Urban City Podcast Group

7 Powerful Truths About Bonnets, Black Culture & America’s Double Standards

Felicia Kelly-Brookins — Thu, 21 May 2026 14:00:05 +0000

Major Takeaways:

The bonnet debate reflects America’s larger shift toward comfort-centered fashion and casual public presentation.
Generational divides around appearance are deeply tied to survival, professionalism, emotional burnout, and cultural expectations.
Conversations about bonnets and do-rags are ultimately rooted in race, identity, stereotypes, and the policing of Black appearance.

PART FOUR: The Bonnet’s Transition From Private to Public: From “Inside Clothes” to Public Fashion

Op Editorial by Felicia Kelly-Brookins• 5 min read There was a time when getting dressed to leave the house felt almost ceremonial in many Black communities. You had “house clothes,” You had “outside clothes,” You had church outfits, School outfits, Special occasion outfits, and Sunday best. Presentation mattered. And for many Black families, public appearance was not treated casually. Hair was combed. Clothes were coordinated. Wrinkles were unacceptable. Elders often viewed stepping outside looking “presentable” as a reflection of discipline, pride, dignity, and self- respect. But America itself has changed dramatically over the past several decades. What once would have been considered too casual for public spaces is now normalized almost everywhere. Slides are worn to restaurants and airports, Hoodies became luxury wear, Pajamas appear in grocery stores, schools, and even designer collections. Loungewear became an entire industry. Comfort culture is no longer an exception. It is mainstream. The debate about bonnets is part of a bigger cultural change happening everywhere, not just among Black people. Society today is much more relaxed about clothing and appearance than it used to be. People everywhere now wear comfortable clothes in public that older generations once considered inappropriate or “too casual.” So when people criticize Black women for wearing bonnets in public, the criticism ignores the fact that the entire culture has shifted toward comfort, convenience, and casual fashion overall. It is also subtly pointing out a double standard: Many behaviors that are now socially accepted for everyone still receive heavier criticism when associated with Black people first. That contradiction deserves honest discussion. Because when Black women wear bonnets publicly, the reaction often becomes deeper than fashion commentary. The conversation quickly shifts into morality, class, parenting, self-respect, intelligence, and cultural pride in ways that other communities are not scrutinized nearly as heavily. And honestly, that weight becomes exhausting. Many people today are carrying levels of stress, burnout, financial pressure, anxiety, depression, and emotional fatigue that previous generations rarely discussed publicly. People are exhausted.And perhaps the public bonnet has unintentionally become symbolic of something much larger than hair maintenance. Maybe it reflects modern fatigue, Maybe it reflects emotional burnout, Maybe it reflects people no longer wanting to package themselves perfectly every single moment they exist in public. That does not necessarily mean presentation no longer matters. But it may explain why many younger people increasingly reject older respectability politics altogether. For older generations, appearance was often connected to survival. For younger generations, constant performance can feel emotionally draining. That tension is real. And honestly, I think both sides are speaking from experiences shaped by completely different worlds. One generation survived discrimination by becoming hyper-aware of public presentation. Another generation is questioning whether endless performance for public comfort is emotionally sustainable at all. And somewhere in the middle sits the bonnet. Not just as satin or silk, but as symbol. Because the truth is the criticism and the conversations are never really about the bonnets or do-rags. The real conversation underneath all of this is about race, class, generational values, self-expression, stereotypes and respectability politics. It’s about who gets to exist comfortably without being psychologically analyzed through appearance. America has always politicized Black presentation. Black hair alone has carried centuries of social commentary, workplace discrimination, beauty politics, cultural appropriation, and identity policing. So it makes sense that bonnets and do-rags eventually became part of that larger national conversation too. Because Black people have always had to navigate the exhausting balance between authenticity and acceptability. How Black should we look? How comfortable are we allowed to be publicly? How polished must we appear to receive dignity? How much performance is required before society sees our humanity? Those questions have quietly followed Black communities for generations. And perhaps that is why the bonnet conversation feels so emotionally charged. It is not really about silk. It is about what Black people believe we owe society visually, and what society believes it is entitled to demand from us in return. As a Black woman who deeply loves our culture, I believe there must be room for nuance in this conversation. Yes, presentation matters in certain environments. Yes, pride matters. Yes, professionalism matters. Yes, self-expression matters. Yes, freedom matters. But I also believe Black people deserve the freedom to exist without every appearance becoming a referendum on our intelligence, values, upbringing, or worthiness. Because the reality is: Black people did not create hair protection practices because they were trendy. We created them out of necessity, Out of grooming, Out of maintenance, Out of care. Out of innovation within a society that historically excluded our textures, our beauty standards, and our aesthetics from mainstream acceptance. And when society mocks Black people for wearing bonnets or do-rags while simultaneously borrowing from our style culture, it exposes a contradiction much larger than fashion itself. The issue was never really cloth. The issue has always been perception. And perhaps the deeper challenge for Black communities moving forward is finding balance between cultural pride, personal freedom, presentation, professionalism, comfort, and the right to exist without constant scrutiny. Because whether wrapped in silk, satin, waves, braids, curls, or locs, Black hair has never merely been hair. It has always been history. Felicia Kelly-Brookins 3 Important Truths About The Bonnet’s Transition From Private to Public 1. The Bonnet Debate Reflects Larger Cultural Changes America as a whole has become more casual over time, with comfort-centered fashion becoming normalized across society. The public bonnet conversation exists within that broader shift. 2. Respectability Politics and Exhaustion Are Colliding Older generations often viewed presentation as protection and survival, while many younger people are increasingly rejecting the emotional burden of constant public performance. 3. The Real Issue Is About Identity, Not Satin The conversation surrounding bonnets and do-rags ultimately reflects deeper issues involving race, class, gender, authenticity, stereotypes, and society’s policing of Black appearance. About the Contributor: Felicia Kelly-Brookins is an award-winning author, screenwriter, playwright, and the Founder and Executive Director of the S.A.F.E. S.P.A.C.E. TheaterTherapy Foundation, an organization dedicated to creating emotionally safe spaces for youth, teens, families, and communities through storytelling, theatrical dialogue, literacy, and mental health advocacy Known for blending cultural commentary, emotional truth, faith, family dynamics, and social awareness into her work, Brookins uses her voice to challenge difficult conversations surrounding identity, trauma, generational silence, mental health, relationships, and the complexities of Black culture. Her work is deeply rooted in advocacy, authenticity, and the belief that storytelling has the power not only to entertain, but to heal, confront, educate, and transform communities.

3 Uncomfortable Truths About Black Culture & America’s Selective Acceptance

Felicia Kelly-Brookins — Wed, 20 May 2026 14:00:07 +0000

PART THREE:

The Double Standard: Cultural Theft and Selective Acceptance

Op Editorial by Felicia Kelly-Brookins• 5 min read One of the most exhausting things about being Black in America is watching our culture move through the same cycle over and over again. First, it gets mocked, Then criticized, Then labeled “ghetto, ” Then feared, Then copied, Then monetized, Then suddenly called innovative once somebody else wears it. And if we are honest, many Black people have become emotionally numb to this pattern because we have watched it happen our entire lives. Styles once ridiculed inside classrooms, workplaces, television commentary, and public spaces somehow transform into “fashion statements” the moment they become separated from Black identity itself. What was once called: “ghetto,” “ratchet,” “hood,” or “unprofessional,” suddenly becomes: “streetwear,” “high fashion,” or “urban chic.” And the emotional whiplash of that contradiction is something Black communities know intimately. We have watched it happen with long nails, Hoop earrings, Braided hairstyles, Lip aesthetics, Slang, Lashes, Laid edges and even Headwear. Even the very aesthetics society once used to stereotype Black people eventually become billion- dollar trends once mainstream culture repackages them. And now, somehow, we have arrived at a place where even bonnets and pajama-inspired fashion aesthetics are entering mainstream style conversations after years of Black women being publicly shamed for them. That irony is hard to ignore. Because underneath these conversations is a much deeper question: Is society truly reacting to the clothing itself…or reacting to Blackness attached to the clothing? That question matters. Because history has shown us repeatedly that Black culture is often celebrated only after Black people absorb the humiliation phase first. We are often the testing ground for trends that society initially condemns before later consuming. And there is something emotionally exhausting about constantly watching your culture become acceptable only after other people sanitize it, commercialize it, or make it feel “less Black” to mainstream audiences. That is why these conversations about bonnets and do-rags are about more than fabric. The discussions should be about about ownership, power, acceptance and who gets to embody culture without punishment. We should also address how quickly authenticity becomes marketable once the original creators are removed from the center of the narrative. Black people are not imagining this phenomenon. We have seen corporations profit from aesthetics Black students were once punished for in school. We have seen hairstyles called “unprofessional” suddenly appear in luxury campaigns. We have watched slang born in Black communities become social media language while the verypeople who created it are still stereotyped for speaking naturally. The double standard is not subtle anymore. It is visible everywhere. But one of the most fascinating shifts happening within this conversation involves Black masculinity itself. Because for years, the do-rag and bonnet carried heavily gendered meanings inside Black culture. The do-rag was largely coded masculine. The bonnet was coded feminine. That distinction shaped perception for generations. Many Black men historically would not have publicly worn a bonnet, because they were protecting and reflecting their masculinity. Black masculinity in America has long existed under pressure. Pressure to appear tough, Pressure to appear emotionally controlled, Pressure to appear hardened and Pressure to avoid anything perceived as “soft.” Many Black men grew up in environments where appearing too soft could invite ridicule, disrespect, danger, or questions about manhood itself. So the visual language of masculinity was rigid. The do-rag fit comfortably inside that image because society had already attached ideas of toughness, street identity, athleticism, and urban masculinity to it. But the bonnet disrupted that. A bonnet carries different visual associations such as softness or some form of feminism. Society still struggles with the idea of Black men publicly embodying those things without suspicion or discomfort entering the conversation. Today, many Black men openly wear bonnets for completely practical reasons. Men with locs, braids, curls, natural hair, and longer styles understand hair protection just as much as Black women do. But public reaction still reveals something deeper. Because for some people, seeing a Black man in a bonnet disrupts the hardened image society expects him to maintain. And honestly, that discomfort says more about society’s relationship with Black masculinity than it does about bonnets. Why should protecting your hair challenge perceptions of manhood? Why is softness still treated like weakness in Black men? Why does self-care still make some people uncomfortable when attached to Black men? Those questions deserve real conversation. In Part Four, the final article in this series, I will explore The Bonnet’s Transition From Private to Public, examining how a deeply personal symbol of Black hair care and nighttime maintenance evolved into a public cultural statement, social controversy, fashion conversation, and reflection of changing generational attitudes toward identity, comfort, visibility, and self- expression. 3 Important Truths About Cultural Theft & Selective Acceptance 1. Black Culture Is Often Criticized Before It Is Celebrated Many aesthetics associated with Black communities are first labeled “ghetto,” “unprofessional,” or “too urban” before later becoming profitable mainstream trends. 2. The Real Issue Is Often Blackness, Not the Style Itself The same hairstyles, fashion choices, slang, or aesthetics frequently receive different reactions depending on who is wearing them and how closely they are associated with Black identity. 3. Black Masculinity Is Still Heavily Policed The public discomfort surrounding Black men wearing bonnets reveals how rigidly society still defines masculinity, softness, vulnerability, and self-care for Black men. About the Contributor: Felicia Kelly-Brookins is an award-winning author, screenwriter, playwright, and the Founder and Executive Director of the S.A.F.E. S.P.A.C.E. TheaterTherapy Foundation, an organization dedicated to creating emotionally safe spaces for youth, teens, families, and communities through storytelling, theatrical dialogue, literacy, and mental health advocacy Known for blending cultural commentary, emotional truth, faith, family dynamics, and social awareness into her work, Brookins uses her voice to challenge difficult conversations surrounding identity, trauma, generational silence, mental health, relationships, and the complexities of Black culture. Her work is deeply rooted in advocacy, authenticity, and the belief that storytelling has the power not only to entertain, but to heal, confront, educate, and transform communities.

Mental Health Healing Lessons Women 50+ Learn After Decades of Silence

Felicia Kelly-Brookins — Tue, 10 Mar 2026 00:41:02 +0000

Major Takeaways

• Silence may help someone survive trauma temporarily, but healing begins when truth is finally spoken.

• Mental health healing after fifty often comes through reflection, accountability, and breaking generational cycles.

• Emotional maturity means learning to respond with awareness rather than reacting from past wounds.

Breaking generational silence and reclaiming emotional strength, identity, and healing after fifty.

Q&A With Felicia Brookins• WHM Presented By Urban City Podcast 5 min read

FOCUS AREA: Mental Health: What Healing Looks Like After Decades of Silence WOMEN 50+ WISDOM & LEGACY Women 50+ Wisdom & Legacy I created the Women 50+ Wisdom & Legacy Series because I am no longer interested in watching powerful women disappear quietly into the background of their own lives. I am 59. I have survived silence. I have wrestled with faith. I have loved imperfectly and been loved imperfectly. I have come from struggle, strength, spiritual tension, emotional chains, and deep resilience. I have been a daughter shaped by two flawed but formative parents. I have been a wife who chose to do marriage differently. I have been a mother who decided that safety, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, would not be optional in my home. And I have become. This series begins with me because legacy must start with courage. I am not presenting perfection. I am presenting process. I am sharing who I am, how I healed, what I inherited, what I confronted, and what I chose to interrupt. Women 50+ are not fading. We are reclaiming. We are redefining what strength looks like. This series is my offering and my declaration. Felicia Kelly-Brookins

Featuring: Felicia Kelly-Brookins, 59 Entrepreneur | Methodology Creator | Author | Screenwriter Portrait Introduction Felicia Kelly-Brookins does not speak about healing as theory. She speaks about it as survival. At 59, she sits in the fullness of womanhood, a wife who chose differently, a mother who decided cycles would end with her, a survivor who refused to let sexual assault, emotional abuse, and mental health struggles define her narrative. She is layered, soft where she once was rigid, discerning where she once was silent, intentionally where she once was afraid. Her life reads like a series of chapters, some bruised, some bold. Sexual assault did not silence her permanently. Emotional and physical abuse did not convince her that her only escape was to take her life and Mental health struggles did not erase her brilliance. They tested it.

Raised by two imperfect parents who loved her in different ways at different stages of their own battles, she inherited both warmth and wounds, literacy and limitations, faith and fear, love and silence. She learned early that strength was often expected but vulnerability was rarely modeled. But Felicia did something sacred. She chose interruption over inheritance. Today, as a married woman, an award-winning author, screenwriter, and a methodology creator, she speaks openly about mental health, spiritual healing, and the courage required to forgive, shown to her by her father, to not be a sign of weakness, but as strategy. Healing, she says, is not a moment. It is a decision repeated daily.

The Conversation 1. When did you first realize that silence was impacting your mental or emotional health? I realized silence was harming me when I began reacting instead of responding. When my body would tense before my mind could process or I would lash out physical abuse instead of communicating my feelings with words. When I found myself strong in public but unraveling in private. Smiling and pretending became a survival strategy for me, a performance that I was good at growing up, but it was also slowly suffocating me. I learned that what you refuse to name will eventually control you.

2. What generational messages did you receive about mental health growing up? The message was simple: pray about it, endure it, don’t embarrass the family. Mental health wasn’t framed as something to tend to. My sisters and I didn’t discuss trauma. We born it. We lived in it not knowing what it was. We somehow survived it. We didn’t dissect emotional wounds. There was love in my home. But there was also emotional suppression, physical violence and verbal abuse. And they all shaped me.

3. What does healing look like for you now versus what you once thought it would look like? I never thought about healing. I just kept going. I just did outside my parent’s home what I did in it, I continued to function. Abuse was my almost unbearable normal. Healing looks like facing myself in the mirror and admitting that I put on a trauma coat and used it to attack other people while wearing it. Healing is accepting responsibility for my own wrongs and my relationship losses, Healing is deciding it ends with me finally. Healing is a conscious decision. It looks like saying “that hurt me” without shame. It looks like protecting my nervous system the way I once tried to protect others even when it cost me pain inflicted by the very person who was

supposed to protect me. I knew what it was like to feel half-loved so healing for me was also showing my son full love with no doubt. Healing is accepting the right way to love someone.

4. How did unspoken trauma show up in your body, relationships, or career? It showed up as hyper-independence. As overachievement. As exhaustion disguised as excellence. It showed up as an ulcer in my body at the age of fifteen. In relationships, it showed up as physical abuse, me being the abuser. It showed up in me communicating my feelings through profanity and aggressiveness yet never thinking it could cause a person to stop loving me. I guess that was due to my example. In my body, it also showed up as stress patterns I ignored for years. It showed up as fear gripping nightmares for years, it showed up as hyper alertness and it showed up at jumping when my name was called a certain way. It showed up as a heavy, heavy, burden to bear.

5. What role has faith, therapy, sisterhood, or solitude played in your healing journey? Faith anchored me. Transparency educated me. Solitude revealed me and Sisterhood with my biological sisters made me a protector, the one that made things right and gave me a place to focus on others instead of myself sometimes and that wasn’t a bad thing to me, it was my responsibility as a big sister, as a daughter and as the first recipient of passed down unrevealed trauma. Faith gave me language when I had none. Therapy gave me tools. Sisterhood reminded me I was not crazy, I was just carrying too much alone. And solitude forced me to confront the woman in the mirror and say the hard things out loud. I had to face them, and I had to humble myself. All four were necessary.

6. How do you define emotional maturity at this stage of life? Emotional maturity is responding without revenge. It is accountability without collapse. It is understanding that being triggered is information, not instruction. At 59, I define maturity as the ability to feel deeply without weaponizing those feelings against yourself or others.

7. What boundaries have you implemented after 50 that you wish you had earlier? I no longer remain in rooms that diminish my spirit. I protect my peace like it is an asset, because it is. I wish I had learned earlier that boundaries are not rejection. They are preservation.

8. How do you now respond differently to triggers that once controlled you? I pause. Before, I reacted from old wounds. Now I ask, “Is this going to benefit me in anyway? Will I be better for it if I respond to this emotion, this trigger in a negative way? Triggers used to control my tone, my body, my relationships. Now I breathe. I assess. I choose. Choosing to pause is why I am still married, choosing to pause is why my son will never have to experience the trauma his mother went through, and he will never ever not know that I love him. Pausing changed the model of motherhood for me. It changed me.

Legacy Statement “At 59, I now understand how important it is to give a child a mentally, emotionally, and spiritually safe home environment.”

Urban City Perspective Felicia Kelly-Brookins represents a generation of women who were raised to endure rather than articulate. Her healing journey reflects a broader cultural shift among women 50+ who are confronting inherited silence and reframing it as transformation. Women in this age group often experience what researchers describe as “delayed emotional processing” the unpacking of trauma once survival responsibilities lessen. With children grown, careers stabilized, and identity less externally defined, unresolved emotional patterns rise to the surface demanding attention. Felicia’s integration of faith, therapy, and personal accountability reflects a modern model of healing that rejects false binaries. It acknowledges that spiritual devotion does not replace psychological work and that forgiveness without boundaries perpetuates harm. Her narrative also disrupts the myth that resilience alone equals healing. Resilience kept her alive. Reflection made her whole.

Three Takeaways 1. Silence may protect you temporarily, but truth restores you permanently. 2. Healing is not forgetting your past, it is refusing to let it control your future. 3. Emotional maturity after 50 is the power to respond differently than you were taught.

Felicia Kelly-Brookins is a woman who chose to be different as a wife, as a mother, as a leader. She chose to love reading when distraction would have been easier. She chose to write when silence felt safer. She chose forgiveness when resentment felt justified. Raised by two imperfect parents who poured love into her imperfectly who showed her both devotion and dysfunction, she inherited both strength and chains. Those chains cost her relationships at times and peace so many times. But she faced them. She named them. She dismantled them. And in doing so, she did not become a perfect woman. She became a free one.

7 Powerful Ways Felicia Kelly Brookins Uses Literature Mental Health Justice and Healing to Transform Culture

Urban City Podcast Group — Thu, 01 Jan 2026 18:00:55 +0000

Major Takeaways

Felicia Kelly Brookins uses literature and words as tools for healing and mental health awareness
• Her creative works challenge injustice while empowering women and youth
• She bridges art and activism to create real cultural and emotional change

How an award winning author and cultural thought leader is reshaping how words drive healing identity and social change

Felicia Kelly-Brookins is an award winning author, screenwriter, playwright, and cultural thought leader whose work stands at the powerful intersection of literature, mental health, justice, healing, and the transformative force of words. Over the past decade, her voice has become one of the most respected and influential in contemporary Black storytelling because she does not simply write to entertain. She writes to restore, to challenge, and to build bridges between pain and possibility. Her work is deeply rooted in lived experience as well as disciplined literary craft, which allows her stories to reach people on both an emotional and intellectual level. Through novels, plays, cultural essays, and public advocacy, Felicia has made it clear that language is not neutral, but instead shapes how we see ourselves, how we treat one another, and how society decides who is worthy of dignity.

As the Founder and Chief Executive Officer of Inspired Resources, LLC, Felicia built a creative ecosystem that supports writers, artists, and thinkers who want their work to have impact. In 2015, she launched the Write The Vision Virtual Authors and Writers Conference, which has since grown into one of the most respected platforms for literary development in the region and beyond. Write The Vision was designed not only to teach people how to write, but to teach them how to build sustainable careers from their voices. The conference connects aspiring and established writers with professionals in publishing, branding, marketing, and creative development, giving participants tools to move from passion to professional practice. What makes Write The Vision stand out is its focus on both creative excellence and economic empowerment, which reflects Felicia’s own understanding that words can be instruments of both expression and liberation.

Felicia’s commitment to healing and social change is also embodied in her creation of SAFE SPACE, a Youth and Teen Mental Health nonprofit that blends storytelling and wellness education. Through original theater skits, dialogue driven performances, and guided discussions, SAFE SPACE gives young people a way to confront anxiety, depression, trauma, bullying, and identity struggles in a format that feels real and relatable. By using scripted stories to reflect the daily realities of youth, Felicia has created a space where students can recognize their own experiences in the characters they see on stage and feel less alone in what they are going through. This approach allows mental health conversations to happen in a way that is accessible, compassionate, and free from stigma.

Her literary body of work continues that same mission of healing and empowerment. The WAYS Trilogy is a powerful exploration of womanhood, emotional survival, trauma, and recovery told through layered, character driven storytelling. These books speak directly to readers who have faced loss, betrayal, fear, and uncertainty and are searching for a way forward. Her theater therapy stage production, “The Brownie An Unforgettable Trip” takes this even further by inviting women into a live experience that combines performance and self reflection. The accompanying workbook series transforms the audience from passive viewers into active participants in their own healing journey, giving them space to examine their past, understand their emotions, and reclaim their voices.

In Spring 2026, Felicia will release a highly anticipated new book that examines justice, language, and the power of words to shape systems, relationships, and societal outcomes. This work builds on her lifelong exploration of how narratives create reality and how the stories we tell about people determine who receives empathy and who is denied it. By analyzing the role of language in law, culture, and personal identity, Felicia continues her mission to show that words are not just communication tools, but instruments of power that can either wound or heal.

Beyond her fiction and theater, Felicia is also a respected cultural commentator and op ed writer who offers sharp political and social analysis from the perspective of a Black woman. Her recent reflections on the film Wicked and the holiday classic The Grinch starring Benedict Cumberbatch demonstrate her ability to use popular culture as a lens for examining deeper questions about morality, power, and emotional truth. These essays reveal how even familiar stories can expose the values and fears that shape society.

Felicia’s impact has been recognized with numerous literary and cultural honors, including the Southern Laced Literary Award, AAMBC Urban Book of the Year, American Book Fest Best Book Award Finalist, Worldwide Writers Best Selling Author of the Year, Mississippi Success Honoree, Best of Mississippi Author of the Year, and recognition as one of Twenty Five Mississippians You Should Know in 2025 by MS Success Magazine. Each of these honors reflects the reach and resonance of her work as well as her role in shaping conversations about literature, healing, and justice.

Felicia Kelly Brookins is not simply telling stories, she is using them to challenge systems, uplift communities, and guide people toward wholeness. Through every book, every play, every program, and every word, she continues to prove that storytelling is one of the most powerful tools we have to change both ourselves and the world around us.

CHECK OUT FELICIA’S CREDENTIALS!!!

In addition to her creative works, Felicia is also a respected op-ed and cultural commentary writer, offering political and social analysis from the perspective of a Black woman. Her recent editorials include reflections on the very popular film, ‘ Wicked’ and the holiday film Classic ‘The Grinch’ featuring the voice-over of Actor-Benedict Cumberbatch, as the grinch we all love to hate.

Her literary and cultural honors include the Southern Laced Literary Award (2016)

AAMBC Urban Book of the Year (2018)

American Book Fest Best Book Award Finalist (2018)

Worldwide Writers Best-Selling Author of the Year (2020)

Mississippi Success Honoree (2021)

Best of Mississippi Author of the Year (2022), and recognition as one of “25 Mississippians You Should Know in 2025” by MS Success Magazine.