06/10/2026
Lessons From 23 Seasons
A fellow coach adjusted my crown this week without ever saying a word.
She decided to clean and decorate the coaches’ break room and hung up pieces of CAO history—old timelines, milestone moments, and memories from send-offs throughout the years. I never expected to walk in and see them.
For a few moments, I just stood there looking at the wall.
It was a gentle reminder that when you’re busy building, surviving, and carrying the weight of leadership, you don’t always stop to look at what you’ve already built.
And it brought me back to a memory right before tryouts…
A parent looked me in my face and asked,
“Is this how you want your legacy to end?”
The question was in reference to athletes choosing to try out at other gyms.
And if I’m honest, the question didn’t offend me.
It revealed a misunderstanding of what legacy actually is.
Let’s define legacy.
Legacy is not determined by disgruntled parents. It is not defined by people who move in herds. It is not shaped by indecision, disloyalty, or people who can only think in the emotion of the present moment.
Legacy is built over time.
It is forged through consistency, innovation, resilience, sacrifice, and impact.
Twenty-three years of building, breaking ceilings, and doing what many said couldn’t be done—that is legacy.
My legacy is winning on every major stage this industry has to offer.
My legacy is building a Worlds program and stepping into that arena twice—as the only all-girl Black team in Atlanta to do so.
My legacy is creating the first and only Cheer HBCU Combine—opening doors, building pipelines, and changing what representation in this industry looks like.
My legacy is sweeping Summit.
My legacy is being recognized among the best—from NCA Hall of Fame honors to being honored at the Capitol as a Woman of Honor, to being recognized for impact and innovation.
My legacy is twenty-three years of showing up, evolving, creating, surviving, and still standing.
That is legacy.
And truthfully, it took everything in me not to respond with a question of my own:
What is the legacy of the gym you’re choosing?
What ceilings have they broken?
What paths have they created?
What has their trailblazing actually produced for this industry?
Because legacy is not about what feels trendy today.
It is not about following crowds.
It is not about chasing what appears shiny in a moment of uncertainty.
Legacy is about sustained impact.
It is about creating something so undeniable that years later, the evidence still speaks for itself.
People often confuse transition with decline.
Just because people leave does not mean something is ending.
Sometimes it means space is being made for alignment.
Sometimes pruning is necessary for elevation.
Sometimes the people who leave are not abandoning a legacy—they are simply removing themselves from the next chapter of it.
My legacy does not end because people make temporary decisions.
A legacy like mine doesn’t end.
It evolves.
It expands.
It continues to blaze trails long after the noise settles.
And after 23 seasons, if there is one thing I know for certain—
You cannot erase what has already been etched into history.
