Go back

Tell Your Story with Jonathan Capehart

1h 3m 16s

Tell Your Story with Jonathan Capehart

Jonathan Capehart’s memoir *Yet Here I Am* is a heartfelt and powerful narrative of identity, resilience, and personal growth shaped by his upbringing in a segregated South. The story centers on his mother’s quiet but defiant journey down Main Street in a brown Mercedes, symbolizing a slow-motion protest of Black pride and belonging. Through vivid memories of childhood summers with his Jehovah’s Witness grandmother and the touching encounter with Miss Betsy, the narrative reveals the subtle acts of resistance and solidarity that persisted in a deeply divided society. His mother, Margaret, emerges as a central figure—a single parent who instilled in him independence, self-reliance, and a fierce belief in education and equality. The memoir also explores the emotional journey of coming out as gay during college, a turning point made possible by a supportive community and a key friend, Matthew Brooks. These experiences, combined with reflections on family, identity, and chosen community, highlight the importance of self-awareness and boundary-setting. The episode extends to a heartfelt conversation with Dominic, a gay man struggling with family rejection, underscoring the need for individuals to build their own support systems and assert their right to be seen and respected. Ultimately, the narrative celebrates personal courage, the power of community, and the enduring truth that self-acceptance and authenticity are foundational to living a fulfilling life. Themes of resilience, identity, and belonging are interwoven, offering a profound reflection on how personal growth unfolds in the face of systemic and familial challenges.

Transcription

9663 Words, 51168 Characters

English
The formal name was Main Street. The colloquial name was White Street. And so my mother would make that right. And I never understood why. I was like, Mom, you just go down there and go. But, you know, driving down south in your brown 450SL Mercedes. Which I was like, stop there. Stop there, Mom K-part. With your bins. I know, with her bins. She was like, and we going down White Street in our bins. In our bins. And as I write in the book, it was like her. It was a slow motion protest at 15 miles an hour. This episode is brought to you by Theraflu. How are you? I am really well. I got a good night's sleep last night. And I have the beds at the Airbnb to thank for it, too. Oh, that's right. Yeah, you've got, so the beds are comfy. Comfy where you're staying. And, you know, not everybody has the same mattresses, right? But this one is on a platform. So it's not like a box spring and a mattress. This is just the mattress on a platform. But it feels like I'm on a regular bed. Oh, well, there you go. Yeah. That's a good tip off. Enough about my night. Uh-huh, yeah. We have a guest here. We do, but one of the things we said we wanted to do. Oh, yes. Today, because we, you know, we want to officially welcome back Natalie, our producer, who has been on maternity leave. And she is a new mommy of a beautiful baby girl. Remind me of your daughter's name, Leona. And she's back. Welcome back. And, you know, we also have to say. I also want to say thank you to Julia, who substituted. She substituted in your stead and did an excellent job. So, Julia, thank you so much. Welcome back to Natalie and thank you to Julia. We got them both working. I know. Do we get both of you now all the time? Okay. So we have a friend of yours, and I met him many years ago during the first administration in the White House. But I told him it was so many people I met, and I probably, it was, I was still coaching. So I probably had lost. I lost the game and didn't want to. I don't know how you can not know Jonathan Capehart. I mean, Jonathan Capehart is like, he's a fixture in so many homes. Yeah, I know of him, of course. But you didn't remember whether you met him. But I didn't remember meeting him. And, you know, Jonathan is a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. He's also the co-host of the morning edition of The Weeknd. He's an analyst on the PBS NewsHour. His man's galactic. A lot of jobs. I know, I know. Capehart was previously associate editor at The Washington Post, where he was also an opinion writer. His memoir, Yet Here I Am, was published earlier this year and was an instant New York Times bestseller. Yes, it was. And it is a really nice read. It's a beautiful book. It's a beautiful book, and I'm looking forward to talking to him about it. Without further ado, Jonathan Capehart. Here he is. Hey, hi, hi. Hey, good to see you. Thank you for being here. Thanks for being here, man. Great to see you. Great to see you. Nice to see you again. Jonathan, Jonathan, welcome to IMO. Thank you very much. We did this. We concocted this visit because of your bestselling book. We talked about it a bit. I was like, why don't we talk about it on IMO? And I was thrilled, thrilled that you wanted to have me on and talk about this. The book, and I'm looking forward to these. Do you understand how weird this is? I'm the journalist. I'm the one who asks the questions and try to find ways to get you to not get off your talking points. And now I'm getting it from you guys. This is going to be fun. I don't know if you say that now. But this is what I love about the book. It's a wonderful journey through your life, but I love it because intentionally, telling your story, we get to see all of Jonathan Capehart. It gives us a real connection to you as a human being, as a man. Your journey is beautiful and it's beautifully told in this book. So congratulations. Thank you. Thank you very much. It's a nice read. It really is. And I didn't become a reader until I was an adult. I knew how to read, but I didn't. I know the way you say that. I was like, whoa, I missed that part. I only read for school. And I've told the story many times that the first book that got me to be a reader was Firestarter by Stephen King. And so I try to, I have this pattern of I have to read two nonfiction books in order to get to read one fiction book. And yours, of course, is a nonfiction book. So thanks for doing it. Oh, sure. I feel like now I feel like I know. I mean, if you don't know me. I don't know what book you read. So tell us about the process of it and how it sounds like it was wonderful. But I want to hear from you. So what was it like writing it? So during the first Trump administration, I decided to, you know what? This is a little intense. I'm going to get off this merry-go-round and all these stories that I had in my head from my summers as a kid, you know, spending them in North Carolina with my maternal grandparents. I'm finally going to get off this merry-go-round. I'm finally going to get them out of my head and onto the screen. And I spent the entire, an entire weekend just writing what I started calling the down south chapter. Wow. Writing about how the prominent thing is my, I went to Catholic school in the north and then would go down south to North Carolina and spend the summers with my Jehovah's Witness grandmother. That was that, that stood out because I don't think I knew of your connection to Jehovah's Witness faith. And I didn't realize. I didn't realize that your grandmother was such a devout witness. Are they called witnesses? Yeah. Yeah. So you had started, you've been going down south since. Yeah. Since I can't even remember the first time I went down, but you know, I went basically every summer until I was 12. Yeah. And so going down south, being in the heat, the humidity, the mosquitoes, the thunderstorms, the rain hitting the tin roof, all of that. Just, I mean, those memories, the smells of the, of the summer never left me. And especially going witnessing with my grandmother, who's this woman, she only had a fourth grade education. She knew how to read, she knew how to write, and she was such a devout Jehovah's Witness that we would go witnessing on these country roads in North Carolina. That's a trip. I'm just picturing this old lady and this well-dressed little man. Little man in the back. Talk about what, you know, talk, help us paint that picture for us. Grandma or Sister Isla Mae. Sister Isla Mae. Sister Isla Mae and I made for quite a pair. Now, we'll put aside my, my fashions for a moment. My grandmother, she liked to dress and she would get a simplicity. She would look through that. Wasn't there a book or something you could look through? Simplicity, buttermilk. There were, there were tons. There were tons of catalogs for patterns and, yeah. Right, so she would flip through and then she would see, she would see a pattern and then we'd go into town, Murfreesboro, and go find the pattern and then bring it back home and grandma would make her dresses right there on the kitchen table. I could still hear the scissors crunching on the metal tabletop and then she would sew them. She'd get behind her little Singer sewing machine and then on Sunday, you couldn't tell her nothing. She'd put, just slip that sack dress on over her head. Put her faux pearls on, cut that wig on just right and put her, you know, purse in the crook of her arm, Queen Elizabeth style. Yes. And you couldn't tell Sister Isla Mae Kindred, not a thing. And so then there's me, you know, so my family calls me Todd. Everybody in my family calls me Todd. So there I am, little Todd or Todd. Todd. And I see myself in like khaki pants. Yeah, of course. A little shirt. Button down. Little button down. Blue? White? I don't remember. I mean, I do remember like a khaki pants and a red, like a red polo of some sort. I like to look good because my grandmother, but also my Aunt Annie, Aunt Annie Branch. She's like, I like it when you dress up. You look nice. And so it was all about looking good for Aunt Annie, looking good for grandma. And of course, you're going to Kingdom. Haul on Sunday. You got to look your Sunday best. So it's stuck. So you're pulling up to somebody's house. I'm sorry. No, I'm just going to say we didn't go down south as often as you did. You went every summer. We went like a couple of times, three times maybe in our childhood. Oh, yeah. So you all, you and grandma all dressed up. You go down a country road to witness and you're going to all kinds of folks. White folks, black folks. Nope, nope, nope. I wasn't sure because one of her friends, Miss Betsy, tell us about Miss Betsy, because that story was very sweet. So I don't remember how grandma met Miss Betsy, but Miss Betsy was a true character, true, true character. Jehovah's Witness, but her husband didn't know. Her best friend was my grandmother. Her husband, according to Miss Betsy, was just this out-and-out racist, so could never know that one, she was a Jehovah's Witness, and two, she was cavorting with black people. And so whenever we would have to go not to Kingdom Hall on Sunday during the daylight, she could make her way. But if they went witnessing or in the evening or Bible study, Miss Betsy would call. And the phone would ring and we would go. I'd go get the phone. Hello? And then there would be silence on the other end. And that was like, oh, this is Miss Betsy. It's time to move. It's time to move. Right. So I would wait to listen. And then she would whisper into the phone like, I'm on Country Road, Route 4, by the big tree across from the house on the bend. I'll be hiding in the ditch. You just, you honk your horn when you get there. Like, okay. Hang up the phone. I'd run in. Okay. Do you know where Miss Betsy is? I'd tell Grandma and Grandma. Driving really slow. Hour later. I'm just picturing Miss Betsy in the ditch wondering, where is she? No, she knew. She knew. So we pull up in this one instance that comes to mind. And, you know, it's pitch black. The brights are on. And Grandma beeps the horn. And we just sit and we wait. Because, you know, what if we were followed? What if her husband's following us? And then out of nowhere, Miss Betsy would pop up. Out of the darkness. And she's this white woman in her own sack dress. Purse crook in the crook of her arm. Bible in the other hand. Just the white version. Right. The white version of Grandma. And she would come running. You know, old lady Wally running to the back. Miss Betsy would dive into the back seat and get on the floor. And then we would drive away in case her husband was following us, which he never did. And then she would get up. Yeah. We'd be laughing. And she was just wet. She was always just sobbing. Well, after laying in the ditch and then running in a sack dress, I mean, I'm like, I bet she was sweaty. Heat and humidity. She would kiss us and give us hugs and kisses. Cheeks all wet. I hate that to this day. But it was so sweet. It was really, really sweet. I mean, it's a sweet story moving, touching on so many levels. But it spoke to the challenges of a deeply still segregated South. And you witnessed, you grew up in that. I mean, like Craig said, our experiences in the South were intermittent. But you going down there every summer and living it. And talk about what it felt like to be a black boy in the segregated South. I mean, I didn't know what it felt like until, you know, decades later. And particularly when writing this book, understanding, well, wait. Well, what were those summers like? Oh, Severn, North Carolina is a Jim Crow relic of a Southern town. You know, my mother, I write about how my mother, when driving down South, when you're coming down the road, the first right will take you down Main Street. The second right further down will take you down the street where she was born and raised. My mom always took that first right down Main Street. Main Street, wide, paved boulevard. Yeah. Double yellow line. The street was lined with these big houses. And the formal name was Main Street. And so my mother would make that right and I never understood why. But, you know, driving down South in your brown 450 SL Mercedes. With your bins. In our bins. And as I write in the book, it was like her, it was a slow motion protest at 15 miles an hour. You know, the black, the black, you know, daughter of Severn is back in town. She's announcing, I'm here. I don't have to honk my horn. Let the car do the talking. Yeah. And I'm home. I'm here with my Northern address and my education. And I'm bringing my kid. Yeah. And so. But then you get around the bend in those early years in Severn. That street wasn't paved. It was a dirt road. And that, and it had no name. And one summer we came back and it was paved, but it was paved in sort of like tar and those pebble rocks. So when the sun was beaten down on the summer, it would bubble up in tar. So my feet would be covered in tar because I'm running around. You know, I'm a kid in the summer running around in the street and on the grass and everything. Again, no formal name until they named it South Street. But it was, it's still known to this day, Colored Street. Yeah. Wow. We were the first generation in our family that didn't have to pick cotton. Yeah. And we were sort of the first generation of sort of, quote unquote, post-civil rights movement kids. I was born exactly. I was born exactly three years to the day after the enactment of the 64th Civil Rights Act, less than two years after the passage of the 65 Voting Rights Act. So at, you know, five, six, seven years old, I'm the first child. We're the first children in our family to live in de jure freedom in the United States. And I'm doing it there in this, you know, where segregation is still kind of, still kind of around us. And it is, it is among the many memories in writing the book where I realized just how much those summers shaped my, my worldview, my view of this country, my view of myself, Miss Betsy. Theraflu, makers of fast-acting cold and flu relief, believes everyone deserves the right to rest and recover when they're sick, no matter where they live or how much money they make. When I was coaching, if I got sick, I found it hard to choose between taking time for myself to rest and heal and showing up for my family and my team. Luckily, I had the ability to take paid sick time when I really needed it, but not every American has that option. In 2021, Theraflu launched the Rest and Recover Fund, and they've committed more than $1 million to provide micro grants to families and individuals, helping offset the cost of taking a sick day for those that don't have coverage. Everyone should be able to prioritize their health without risking their ability to put food on the table. That's why Theraflu is committed to keep fighting because Rest and Recovery is a right, not a privilege. Learn more or help someone apply for the fund at theraflu.com slash right to recover. This episode of IMO is brought to you by Indeed. Typically, your college major is unlikely to be your profession, and that's certainly the way it was for me. So it's really important to be extremely flexible and open-minded about what you're willing to pursue? Think broadly in your search. That's why it's important to think outside of the box and tap into your skills for your next career move. Indeed, CareerScout can help you land your next role fast, leveling up your job search process with personalized recommendations and support. Being open to change helped me explore roles I hadn't imagined, which made my career richer and more fulfilling. Indeed Career Scout can help you do the same by connecting you to opportunities you might not have considered based on your skills and interests. It's like a personal career coach that makes every part of the job searching process easier. It can tailor your resume for specific applications, match you with new opportunities and even help you practice your interviews. Indeed's mission is to empower people to use their skills to find better work, and CareerScout is their latest innovation to help you do that. The future of job searching is here, and it's called Indeed CareerScout. Try it today in the Indeed app. Your mom, I want to talk about your mom, too, because just a lot of things you said in describing your time down south. Number one, Southern Girl comes back after with an education, a beautiful car, successful. But your mom was a single parent and she did all that on her own. And I just want you to talk a bit about Margaret, who, by the way, I would want to have here because Margaret is actually my favorite K-part. You know, she is going to dine out on that forever. Well, tell us about your mom's story, her journey, and, you know, how she pushed through and what she like as a mother to you, all of that good stuff. So, a few things, foundational facts. Yes. I know you know how to do this. My mother and father married two years before I was born. Right. They moved to Brooklyn, to Park Slope, and then moved to Newark. My father died when I was four months old. He had a blood clot that went from his legs to his lungs, lungs to his heart. I found out from my godfather years later that the doctors told him he needed to have his legs amputated. And so, my father apparently said to them, well, I like to dance. And so, you are not taking my legs. I was born with two legs. I'm going to die with two legs. And my godfather told me that from that moment, he decided to live life the way he wanted to live it. And unfortunately, that meant he left his pregnant wife, you know, before I was born. And so, when he passed away in 1967… No one called my mother to tell her that he had passed away. Oh, I left out a key point. When he left, he moved in with another woman. No one called her to tell her that he had passed away. She would call daily the hospital to check in on him because my mother is a nurse. She's now retired, a nurse. And they said he passed away. And then she told me a guardian angel called, came to the hospital. She called the department in Newark and said, you need to get over to Capehart's place now and get his legal papers. Go and get all of them. My mother said, you know, he always traveled around with an entourage. And so, she goes over to the house with police officers. And she said he walked in and there were just people sitting around. Any of these jokers are going to call his wife? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. He didn't divorce her. She got the legal papers. And then another person, another guardian angel, as she described them, told her that, you know, you're entitled to veterans benefits for the rest of your life. And it's those two guardian angels who changed the trajectory of our lives. I would also say that, you know, Willie Capehart changed the trajectory of our lives by not divorcing my mother. Because as a result, we were able to avail ourselves of those things. So, my mom, you know, she worked her butt off. Double shifts. She taught me how to iron, how to do laundry, how to, okay, mom even knows this. She's not a great cook. Oh. But she did teach me how to boil water to make pasta. She taught me things so that way, as she said, you don't want to have to rely on anybody else. You want, you have to be able to. Depend on yourself. And, you know, there's some upsides to that. There are also some downsides, some downsides to that. But she instilled in me an independence that she knew I would need. She sheltered me as much as she could from the slings and arrows of life, particularly when it comes to matters of race. And we left Newark and moved predominantly white towns. First day of school, she would say. Okay, two things. One, anybody calls you the N-word, you let me know right away. And two, don't let them put you in vocational education. They're always trying to push us into vocate. You are going to college and you should be in college prep courses. Yes, ma'am. And did she intentionally move into a neighborhood where she felt you would have, how did she think about education? And, you know, and the fact that she lived in a predominantly white community. I think you said she made choices about where she was going to live. To ensure that you got. Oh, sure. Now, it wasn't as like today, folks like, hey, what is the elementary school? What are their scores and their placement in within the state? No, mom was like, we got to get out of Newark. And we got to go someplace where it's not Newark. So the first place was North Plainfield. Lovely, not ideal. We only lasted two years. And then we went further south to Monmouth County to this town called Hazlitt, New Jersey. And we were only there for four years. But to me, that was an incredible lifetime. And, you know, another predominantly white school, white town where I just dove, I just dove in. I ran for student council, became student council vice president of Beer Street Elementary School. And then did the same at Raritan High School. Like dove right on in. And you felt accepted? Did you have issues of race? Did you have teachers lowering your expectations? Did you have any of those kind of challenges? When I got to Raritan High School, you know, I was like looking forward to, you know, going to homeroom with my fellow nerds. And instead, my homeroom was the shop. Yeah. They tracked you. Sitting around this giant wedge table with the, what is that, what's that thing called? The vice. The vice. Yes, that vice thing. Smell the turpentine and wood. And oil. And metal and stuff. Jonathan's like, where am I? This isn't Kansas anymore. What is this? My khakis, they're going to get dirty. How dare they? But Jonathan, I want to go back because I think there are a lot of mothers who are like Margaret. Single mothers who are raising black kids. And somehow she gave you the confidence to walk into these spaces. And be okay, fit in, not feel intimidated. How did she do that? That is a great question. I mean, I think it's a combination of her parenting, but then also just sort of the way I was. I took it upon myself to be like, hi, I'm here. Let's be friends. Also, you're an only child. You want to go. Make friends. So it was just perfect. My mother, I'll never forget. She, again, her admonition was, if anyone drops the N-bomb, you let me know. Well, it happened one day in Hazlet, right outside our apartment. And it was a kid who was not part of our crew, but he dropped it. And I ran in screaming to my mother. It happened. He said it. He said it. Mom. He comes running out. Halfway one to see what would happen. Right. So mom comes out and she breaks it up and says, my little friend's home. And then she says, you know, Todd, come here. We have to talk. Sit down on the sofa and Skip, my next door neighbor, was also my very best friend. And she says, now, listen, you and Skip right now, you're equals. You're right here. But as you get older. And you move through life, Skip is going to climb higher. And he's going to climb higher because he's white. I was screaming at the tops of my lungs. How can you say that? That's not true. You're lying. Why are you doing this? She tore my heart out, this conversation. Tears. I screamed myself hoarse. And I remember just the look on my mother's face. Insight was one of sorrow. Yeah, sorrow is the way I would put it. Because just think about it. She has had to have this. She knew this conversation was coming. She probably, knowing me, she knew what my reaction would be. And you can steal yourself against that and prepare yourself for that as much as you can. But when you see your child respond in that way, how could that not be hard? Right. But also heartbreaking because you know at some point that same child is going to come back to you decades later and say, you were right. I was naive. In a lot of ways, I still am that naive little boy. But it was that naivete that gave me the blinders to plow ahead, to walk into rooms where people would look and be like, who's this black kid? Who does he think he is? And also, you know, back to my mother, my mother always made a point of ensuring that education was front and center. We would go out to the mall and she would say, don't even think about going into Toys R Us, KB Toys, not going, not buying you a damn thing. But we go into Barnes & Noble because mom would always go into the bookstore. You all spend whatever money. on any books. - That's terrific, yeah. - She said, to college. And if you are 18 and not in college, you are not living here because I'm not taking care of a grown man. So I was always going to college. It was just a matter of getting in and where would I go? So speaking of college, I want to delve into the Carlton College because you write about knowing that you were gay since you were 10 years old, but you did not feel comfortable until you got to Carlton. Can you talk about that? Because I'm just fascinated by that because I'm a Midwesterner and I think people in the Midwest are nice. What was it about Carlton that made you feel comfortable enough to sort of be yourself? Well, two reasons. One, Carlton is a very nurturing environment, one. But two, it boils down to a person and his name is Matthew Brooks. And he was a year behind me in college. And we met my sophomore year of college. And we met my sophomore year his freshman year in Goodhue Hall. And he was gay. He didn't tell you he was gay. He's gay. He didn't run away from it. And in fact, he took over. He became part of the leadership of the gay group on campus, moved it from the basement of the chapel to the second floor of the student union. Just symbolically bringing it out of the shadows, putting it someplace where, yeah, people might see you, but guess what? You're not hiding. This is not something to be ashamed of. And so coming out at Carlton was easy. I mean, relatively easy. And what was going on with you internally in this process? I mean, you're having this awakening at Carlton on so many, different levels. But you're doing it away from home. And there was the Jonathan at Carlton, but then there was this whole Todd back at home. And how did you feel as you were coming into your own? What did that do to you? Was it frightening? Did you worry about what this would mean? Um, I never, I never feared that my, my mother, would disown me. Yeah. Um, that my family would kick me out and, and, you know, why, why is that things? Why did you know that for sure? I just did. I just did. And also I'm of the, even then I'm of the mind that, um, you're going to kick me out of the family because this is who I am. Okay. Well, bye. Bye. Exactly. Bye. Um, so when I was at Carlton, sure. You know, you're dealing with these things. You're dealing with these things. You're struggling. Like, who am I? Is this me? What's going on? How will my friends react? And then, but there's a liberation there, but then you go home and now you're under the roof of your mom and me at the time, my stepfather, but, um, but you get home and now you have to go back into the closet. Uh, and so finally, when I came out to my mother, it was, you know, it was a relief. Was she, was it a surprise to her? Was, did she, was it sort of like, I was just waiting for you to tell me it's a yes and no. All moms know, you know, I maneuvered, I maneuvered the conversation so that she would ask me because so many times I came up to the line of saying, mom, I'm gay and, and chickened out. So I'm back from, I'm back from Carlton. I graduated and stayed a year to work as assistant to the president of the college. Back home in my childhood room in Hazlet, which suddenly feels a whole lot smaller now, right? I'm sitting on the futon and my mom, she's, she's mad because I corrected her on some of her language about things. And she said, ever since you came back from college, you've, you've become so, so liberal. It's like, Ooh, slap me in the face. Dare you. And I said, well, what are you talking about? And so we go back and forth and I said, you know, I just, and somehow made the way to, you know, gays and lesbians. They're always talking about, you know, wanting to be accepted and blah, blah, blah. Well, they're doctors and lawyers and journalists and all these things. You are part of the mainstream, blah, blah, blah. And my mother standing at my door, she, she, she's like this. Well, are you gay? And right then I'm sitting on my futon, feel like this beam of light. Like I'm in my own one man show. And it was a moment of truth. And I said, yes. The first thing she said, first she goes, why? And I said, I don't know. And then she says, why? Oh, that's sweet. And then, and then I said, it's not your fault. It's just me. And then the next thing she said to me was, don't tell anybody. You don't want to, you don't want to ruin your career. And I looked at her and I said, I'm not going to go out and tell, you know, if someone asks me, I'm not going to lie. You know, and also besides, have you seen, I got a big, there's a, there's a, there's a gay bar in, I don't know if it's still there in Minneapolis called the Gay 90s. And it has a big neon sign says Gay 90s. And then it has like these rainbows that come down in neon lights like this. And I said, I've got this neon sign over my head. So, I mean, if you got your eyes open, you know, you already know. So, but I'm not, I'm not going to lie. And, you know, this was a part of the tension between my, my mother and me. She's from the older generation where you don't talk about these things. You don't put yourself out there like that. You don't make risks like this. And I'm from the new generation, the post-civil rights generation. I'm still that, that kid. I'm free. And the world is, the world is changing while it's not changing as much or as fast as I think it is, or that I hope that it is. So the truth is still somewhere in the middle. You know, January always feels like that moment to hit reset, to finally stop saying maybe one day and actually start becoming who you're meant to be. And that's why I love Shopify. If you've got a dream, whether it's a side hustle you've been sitting on or something bigger, Shopify makes that first step simple. So let me ask you, what's the one thing you've always wanted to build, but kept putting off? And how different is it? How different could your year look if you just started now? If 2026 is your year, go to shopify.com slash IMO and make your move. This episode of IMO is brought to you by Progressive Insurance, who help people move forward and live fully. Owning a home can be one of the most powerful ways to build financial security. But for many, especially first-generation buyers, it can feel out of reach. That's why I appreciate what Progressive is doing. In 2024, they contributed over $7 million to help individuals and families break the cycle of renting by providing support, offering educational resources, and developing tools to build long-term financial stability through home ownership. Their work goes beyond just insurance. They're opening doors. Through their newly created up-payment program, Progressive is helping people move forward. They're opening doors to first-generation homebuyers move closer to the dream of home ownership by offering eligible applicants a chance to receive a down payment assistance grant. You know, owning a home for me made me feel grounded and also set me up for the future. And as a coach, when your life is dependent on wins and losses, it's really important to have the comfort of a really nice home to come home to, especially for your family. Home ownership is one of the biggest investments you'll ever make, and Progressive wants to help more people take that life-changing step. Learn more today at progressive.com slash open the house. This episode of IMO is brought to you in part by Acorns. You know, one of the most valuable pieces of money advice I've ever gotten is that financial wellness isn't about how much you make. It's about making the most of what you have. That's something I've carried with me from my time on Wall Street to today. And I'm going to share it with you today. And that's why I love Acorns. Acorns is a financial wellness app that makes it easy to start saving and investing for your future. You don't need to be rich. Acorns lets you get started with the spare money you've got right now, even if all you've got is spare change. You don't need to be an expert. Acorns recommends a diversified portfolio that can help you weather all the market's ups and downs. You just need to stick with it. And Acorns makes that easy. Acorns automatically invests your money, giving it a chance to grow with time. The best advice I've gotten was from my father, and that was to pay yourself first. So sign up now and join over 14 million all-time customers who have already saved and invested $25 billion with Acorns. Plus, Acorns will boost your new account with a $20 bonus investment. Offer only available at acorns.com slash I-M-O, that's A-C-O-R-N-S dot com slash I-M-O to get your $20 bonus investment today. From Acorns, Mighty Oaks do grow. Investing doesn't have to be complicated. Acorns makes it easy to invest for your future, plan for tomorrow, and spend smarter today. Paid non-client endorsement, compensation provides incentive to positively promote Acorns. Investing involves risk. Acorns advisor slash LLC and SCC registered investment advisor. View important disclosures at acorns.com slash I-M-O. Now, Margaret was your protector. I mean, in so many stages of your life, she was being honest with you, protecting you from the truth, preparing you, making sure that she was taken care of. And the reason why I want to talk about her second marriage, your stepfather became one of the voices that could have made you think that you weren't worthy. He was someone, you know, we can learn lots of lessons from people. You know, good people and bad people. Good lessons and bad lessons. And I learned from him what not to do, how not to be, how not to treat people. And so if he did it or said it, I knew, you know, this is not right. This isn't kind. This isn't how you should, treat someone. Or at least that's not how I'm going to treat someone. And especially when I had someone like my Uncle McKinley branch, who was the complete opposite of him. I had, I had the counterbalance. And he had been in my, Uncle McKinley had been in my life since birth. My favorite aunt and uncle, Annie McKinley. And from him, I learned what it meant to be, you know, a good dad, a good person, a good man. And he was so caring and loving of his, of his wife and his son, of the family writ large. I mean, Annie McKinley, they were, they were like William and Kate in our family. They came down south. And you spent time with them too. Yeah. A lot of time. When did you come out to them? Oh. And how? I was going to bring my first long-term partner down south for Thanksgiving. Grandma was still alive. But my, and my grandmother said, yes, come on down. I want to. And she knew, she. Yeah. Wonderful. Yeah. Oh yeah. I want to, I want to meet him. And then I got a phone call from my grandmother about a week before Thanksgiving or two weeks saying, I can't have that in my house. And I said, excuse me. You know, I was talking to so-and-so and, and I can't, I just can't have that in my house. And I said, are you talking about? I said, Giuseppe and I can't come down. And she said, no. And so I was heartbroken. And I mean, grandma, we were close. Yeah. Super close. I didn't talk to her for a good two years after that. Yeah. And it was Uncle McKinley who said to me, he called up and he said something like, I heard what happened. And I want you to know, Annie, and I want you to know that we love you. And, you know, you are always part of the family. And, you know, and, and Giuseppe, and it was all just, it was loving and affirming. And he didn't have to do that. Yes. But he did. Yeah. And, you know, an African-American man. Yes. Picking up the phone. Oh, yeah. And calling to tell me that. Yeah. And he told me everything that I needed to know. Well, one, I already knew. I already knew this about him. But the fact that he called me just sort of showed that this is a guy who pays attention and knew that I would be hurt by this. Yeah. He knew you. And called and wanted to make sure that I knew that, you know, don't, don't get it twisted. We are here for you. That's kind. We love you. That's kind. And then I go and talk to grandma. Grandma and I finally talk. Yeah, I was going to ask. After a couple years of not talking. Uh-huh. Come to find out, she was fine. It was my Aunt Dorothy. That's always Aunt Dorothy. Aunt Dot. Dot. Aunt Dot. Got in the grandma's ear. Got in her ear. You don't want none of that down here. Right. She's like, maybe I don't. Right. But it was good that you found out your grandmother's intent. Oh, yeah. You know, where her heart was. I mean, I'm sure, you know, you can't win them all. And people will be who they are. But I just sense in you, you know, just an internal security that isn't always there in young people as they are dealing with their sexuality. And you've continued to hold on to that. It's a reasonable man approach to things. Yeah. And particularly a young black man because, you know, I'm a little bit older than you. But in black. Black families, being gay is tough because we're tough on gay folks. And your level of security in yourself, young people should look at that. And our mom always said, you know, just be yourself. Never be afraid to be yourself. People will like you or they won't like you. Right. But all the people who care about you will, it won't matter. They're going to like you no matter what. As you get older, you soon realize, what, you don't like me? Yeah. Correct. That's great. I don't care. One less person to deal with. That's a good time to move into our listener question. Thank you, Jonathan. Thank you for that. Yeah. Yeah. We're not done yet. Oh, okay. Yeah. I'll settle back. Yeah. And Natalie will read it for us. And this is from Dominic from Washington, D.C. I'm writing as someone who is hurting and feeling deeply frustrated. As the only openly gay man in my family, I often feel isolated, especially when spending time with my brothers. One is a professional athlete, and our social outings usually revolve around straight bars or environments where I feel like I can't fully be myself. Recently, I invited them to join me at a gay bar for the first time after going to multiple straight bars, and they wouldn't even come inside. They stood outside and waited. I ended up crying, feeling rejected. I was so frustrated and unseen later in the night. Am I wrong to feel frustrated? How do I keep showing up for my family who don't always show up for me? Dominic in Washington, D.C. Wow. Dominic, I have so many reactions. Please. So many emotions. One, I wonder how many, like, where does Dominic fall among the siblings? Is he older? Is he younger? Is he in the middle? Is he the jam Brady? Is he the father of the family? Two, and this gets back to something that I said earlier about family. And maybe this is because I'm an only child and an only child of a widow who taught me to be self-reliant. And it's being taught self-reliance to the point where it is not hard for me to even say to family members, you're not going to treat me that way. Uh, this is who I am. This is what I am on a whole range of issues. And if you don't like it, well, you will not have the pleasure of my, of my company. And I wonder, Dominic, at a certain point, you are going to have to stand up for yourself, family or no family. Sometimes I think family uses the family tie to keep you, to keep you in place. Um, and sometimes, you know what, if family's not treating you right in the same way that friends aren't or strangers aren't a certain point, family needs to learn who you are. And so those brothers of yours, I don't know how close the relationship is. It must be close if they're at least going to come and to a gay bar and stand outside. I don't know what that's about. Right, right. But, um, if they don't want. To, you know, see you, you know, the full you by coming inside the gay bar. But at a certain point, you're just going to have to, like, where is your, your chosen family? At a certain point, the real family has to give way to the chosen family. Because as you get older, family ties can be corrosive, toxic, not right. Yeah. Uh, and sometimes. Sometimes it's difficult, but you're going to have to say, what? You're not treating me right. I treat you with all the love and respect because you are my brothers. You are my family. But if you are not going to give as much as I give, well, I'm going to have to go and take care of me, what makes me happy. And if that means we don't spend as much time together because I'm with my chosen family where I am seen, where I am respected, in the end, that's what this is about. Family or no family. Are you seen? Are you respected? Do people really care about you? And that's what you shouldn't feel guilty in demanding that. Certainly of family. Definitely of family. Do you think Dominic's potentially afraid of losing that connection? Because again, you were an only child. The connection was different. What do you say to the kids out there who are, do have, they feel like, well, yes, I have a chosen family, but I don't want to lose this relationship to my brothers. And I understand that and recognize that as an only child, I don't know what it's like to have brothers and sisters. There's all the teasing and the joshing and the talking over each other. Yeah, it gets old sometimes. Yeah. Yes, it does, girl. But, you know, in the end, I think what I'm trying to get to is, Dominic, when you know who you are, when you are just firm in your belief, like, this is who I am, then everything else should flow from that. And that should dictate and determine how you relate to your brothers, how you relate to your, to the rest of the family. I'm not saying, oh, just give up on them, dump them, you know, tell them, bump you. I don't ever want to talk to you again. That's not what I'm saying. In the end, what I'm saying is, Dominic, learn who you are. And then once you know who you are, and by that, I mean, what do you like? What don't you like? What will you put up with? What you won't put up with? Just as a human being, from people, regular everyday people, but also from family. And just because they're family, that does not give them a pass to not treat you with respect or the way you want to be treated. And so whether you are an only child, or you are the middle of five, or the oldest of five, or the youngest of five, or however many, as long as you know who you are, then you will know how to navigate, navigate this and never, never stray from that. You'll all, you will always be safe and secure when you know exactly who you are. How old did Dominic, is Dominic, did he say? Oh, yeah. He didn't say? Yeah. Yeah. Well, that's, you know. Strikes me as young. Yeah. Like maybe in his 20s. Still not self-assured yet. Right. Right. Yeah. Right. But, you know. Life has a way of seasoning you. Right. Right. And in the end, it's all about boundaries, you know. And it takes a while to learn what your boundaries are and then learn how to protect them. And that, that takes some practice. And if, Dominic, if you are young and you're just learning it, that's what, you know, you're going to have to figure that out for so many levels of your life. Because if you're not able to do it with your, your brothers, you're probably not doing it on the job. You may not be doing it with your chosen family and friends. And that's, that's work that, you know, at some point you can't avoid that. Right. There's sacrifice. There's sacrifice in, when you set boundaries, you then learn who your, who your friends are and really sometimes who your family, who your family is. And with that sacrifice, so you have to be comfortable in the sacrifice. I know because of the boundaries I've drawn and the things that I won't do, that I've probably limited opportunities for myself. And you know what? I am just fine with that. Just fine with it. You have to be just fine with the known sacrifices that come with setting those boundaries. I love this time of year, but hosting during the holidays can be a bit of a challenge. So Kelly and I have collected a few hacks to make it a little bit easier. One of our favorite moves is an extendable dining room table. It's this great walnut color and it's mid-century modern. So it looks awesome in our space. And it even has extra storage in the legs. When we don't need the middle panels, we just slide them out and our space is back to how it was before. For all things hosting, Wayfair delivers high quality, customer-trusted products for your home so you can host and celebrate without distress. Use filters, customer photos, and more than 20 million verified five-star reviews to confidently find the right fit for your home. When refreshing your home this holiday season, Wayfair delivers exactly what you need. Head to wayfair.com to shop all things home. That's W-A-Y-F-A-I-R.com. Wayfair, every style, every home. And on the other end of that, those boundary settings, there's room for new, better, more. Because if you free yourself up from the things that don't serve you and bind you down, you'd be surprised, Dominic, that there's room for something really special in there. I mean, you talk in your book, Jonathan, about your chosen family, this beautiful New York, you know, life that you've built for yourself. And, you know, having that attitude, you know, led you to what felt, as you described it, this amazing community of support, full of diverse people who accepted you and the dinners that you all would have together, the travel. What that all did to expose you. You, you know, you, you developed a love for other countries and because you created some boundaries that opened up opportunities to bring other people into your world. And also with this New York family, as I read out, I met these people through a friend who said, come to this party. And then he didn't come to the party, but I walked into this room that felt like just a giant hug because in the room, well, the nerds, other black nerds, they're not going to like that I call them that, but these were, they're special, right? But these, these were, these were African-American, um, mostly not all, but young professionals to whom I didn't have to explain anything. They knew, they understood where I was coming from. Um, it's similar, similar backgrounds. You know, we all watched old train Saturday morning. We all knew the music and the songs and we bonded over that from disparate parts of the country. And here we are in New York, young black professionals, and we have this common language and we have this common, these common, common aspirations. We came to the city to do stuff, to make names for ourselves, to just forge. Forge a life on our own. And when you realize that you, especially for, for an only child of a widow who had this, you know, destination with no roadmap doing all this stuff on my own. And I walk into this room and I'm surrounded by people who are all doing the same thing, generally speaking, but come from different backgrounds and different size families. And we all have this common, cultural ancestry. I mean, yeah, just the shoulders come down. I mean, that's why Martha's Vineyard is such a special, such a special place. That is a place where shoulders come down. That is my New York that this family was formed in the mid nineties in New York. And then, you know, come to Martha's Vineyard in my tender age, you know, early fifties. And again, it's that place where the shoulders come down. I am with, I am with friends who I know from outside the vineyard, but we're there and we don't have to explain a lot, if anything. And sometimes we just, we need to have those, those places. And I would encourage Dominic to focus his energy on building that, that place. You, you call it the chosen family. And it's not to replace the current family, but we all have. Chosen families. I mean, I love my brother, but he's not coming to the vineyard. I come to the vineyard. I come to the venue. Thank God for my chosen family because my actual family is not choosing me. Dominic, just hit your brothers one at a time. One at a time. Take them out one at a time. Find out which one is the leader and which one you can pick off and then slowly get them into your chosen family. That's actually a good point. Why are you doing all this stuff with all the brothers? Which one are you closest to? And just go and just hang out with him and do that with each one. And I think life is individual relationships. Jonathan, thank you. Jonathan, you are a beautiful storyteller and your life is rich. And thank you. Thank you for your willingness to share it. And thank you for being out there on the front lines fighting for our democracy. It is sometimes thankless work, but you do it with grace. Thank you. It's a calling. Yes, it is. It has been a calling from the time you read in the National Geographic. It's a little kid. A little big kid. Appreciate the truth. It is such a pleasure. Thank you. This was fun. This episode is brought to you by Cologuard. I knew that I shouldn't delay screening for colon cancer. And Cologuard has made that process one million times. It was easier for all of us. I just answered a few questions about my age and medical history. And once their licensed clinician determined I was eligible, they issued the prescription and the Cologuard Plus kit was sent right to my home. No doctor's office visit necessary. For me, there was just immediate relief in getting it done. It cost me zero dollars with my insurance. It took me truly 15 minutes. And now I can rest easier knowing I screened properly. Plus, if you get a negative result, you don't have to worry about it. If you get a negative result, you generally don't need a repeat Cologuard test for three years. If you're 45 or older and at average risk, it's time to screen for colon cancer, even if you feel perfectly healthy. And Cologuard Plus gives you an option you can use right at home. Talk to your health care provider about screening for colon cancer with Cologuard or request it online today at Cologuard.com, where they have an easy telehealth option. Don't wait. Cologuard products are intended. Get to screen adults 45 and older at average risk for colorectal cancer. Do not use if you have had a personal history of colorectal cancer or polyps, have inflammatory bowel disease, a family history of colorectal cancer, or certain hereditary syndromes or a positive result from another colon cancer screening method within that test recommended screening interval. Cologuard results should be interpreted with caution as false positives and false negatives do occur. Available by prescription only.

Podcast Summary

Key Points:

  1. Jonathan Capehart’s memoir *Yet Here I Am* offers a deeply personal and authentic journey through his life, highlighting his upbringing in segregated South Carolina and the enduring influence of his family’s values.
  2. The narrator reflects on his mother’s deliberate drive down Main Street in a brown Mercedes, describing it as a "slow motion protest" symbolizing Black pride and resilience in a racially divided South.
  3. The story of the grandmother and Miss Betsy reveals the subtle, everyday acts of resistance and solidarity in a segregated society, where Black and white communities coexisted through quiet, courageous encounters.
  4. Margaret, the mother, was a single parent who raised the narrator with strong values of self-reliance, education, and racial awareness, instilling confidence and independence despite systemic challenges.
  5. The narrator’s coming out as gay at college was a pivotal moment, shaped by a supportive environment and a key friend, Matthew Brooks, who helped normalize LGBTQ+ identity on campus.
  6. The conversation with Dominic addresses the emotional pain of being an only child, the struggle to be seen and accepted by family, and the importance of building chosen family and setting personal boundaries.
  7. The episode emphasizes that self-awareness, resilience, and choosing one’s values are essential for personal growth and well-being, especially in the face of societal and familial pressure.
  8. Themes of belonging, identity, and freedom are woven throughout, showing how personal stories of resilience can foster deeper understanding and connection across diverse experiences.

Summary:

Jonathan Capehart’s memoir *Yet Here I Am* is a heartfelt and powerful narrative of identity, resilience, and personal growth shaped by his upbringing in a segregated South. The story centers on his mother’s quiet but defiant journey down Main Street in a brown Mercedes, symbolizing a slow-motion protest of Black pride and belonging. Through vivid memories of childhood summers with his Jehovah’s Witness grandmother and the touching encounter with Miss Betsy, the narrative reveals the subtle acts of resistance and solidarity that persisted in a deeply divided society.

His mother, Margaret, emerges as a central figure—a single parent who instilled in him independence, self-reliance, and a fierce belief in education and equality. The memoir also explores the emotional journey of coming out as gay during college, a turning point made possible by a supportive community and a key friend, Matthew Brooks. These experiences, combined with reflections on family, identity, and chosen community, highlight the importance of self-awareness and boundary-setting.

The episode extends to a heartfelt conversation with Dominic, a gay man struggling with family rejection, underscoring the need for individuals to build their own support systems and assert their right to be seen and respected. Ultimately, the narrative celebrates personal courage, the power of community, and the enduring truth that self-acceptance and authenticity are foundational to living a fulfilling life. Themes of resilience, identity, and belonging are interwoven, offering a profound reflection on how personal growth unfolds in the face of systemic and familial challenges.

FAQs

Main Street was the formal name of the road, while White Street was the colloquial name used by the community. The mother's choice to take the first right onto Main Street was a symbolic slow-motion protest, representing a quiet assertion of Black presence and dignity in a segregated South.

Growing up in Severn, North Carolina, with his mother, who drove in a visible, confident way, shaped his understanding of race, identity, and resilience. The experience of navigating a segregated society instilled in him a deep awareness of systemic barriers and a drive for equality.

His mother was a strong, independent single parent who instilled values of self-reliance, education, and self-worth. She protected him from racial hostility, emphasized academic excellence, and taught him to stand up for himself, especially in racially charged environments.

At Carlton College, the narrator found a supportive and inclusive environment where he could be himself. Meeting a gay classmate who was open and supportive helped him come out, and the college community provided a sense of belonging that he had been missing at home.

The relationship with his grandmother and Miss Betsy highlights the resilience and courage of Black women in the segregated South. Their quiet acts of witnessing and mutual support reflect the deep social and emotional connections that existed despite racial segregation.

His mother was initially surprised but ultimately supportive, acknowledging his identity without judgment. She encouraged him to live authentically, and the conversation revealed her deep love and acceptance of him as a person.

Chat with AI

Loading...

Pro features

Go deeper with this episode

Unlock creator-grade tools that turn any transcript into show notes and subtitle files.