My American Dream:  By Ryan Blair

The day started out as the best day of my young life.  Considering that we were together again, living with her for the first time in over a year, it’s no wonder it felt like a dream.

I was 13 years old.  My mother and I were reunited, moving into a new house with only one room.  My “bedroom” a worn-out mattress on the floor of the living room, her bedroom, a curtain that she would pull across half the room for privacy.  She worked in a deli, making minimum wages. She never made enough money to get ahead, to have security, to provide for her son or to enjoy life.

That day, my expectations were filled with hope, because I knew that for once, my father was not going to hurt me or my mother anymore.  I knew we were finally out of the reach of his drug induced rages.  Never again was I going to walk into a room to see my mother suffering, her face beaten in, with a gun held to her head.  Never again was I going to watch an ambulance drive off with my mother in the back, unsure if that night’s beating was to be her last.

For the first time in over a year, I felt hopeful on that day, hopeful that the future would bring me joy. Hope on that day, would not last for long.  Mom and I took a trip to buy food.  So excited to get back home and unpack the boxes, we did not take long.  While we were gone, mere hours after we moved in, my mother and I were robbed of our every possession.  Faceless criminals in our new neighborhood took all that I had valued in life.  I recall crying at the loss of my stereo, my music and my clothes.  We moved in with next to nothing.  By our first morning, we had nothing.

Despite my single mother’s determination to make a better life for us, I let the challenges of my youth bring me down.  In my new neighborhood, safety was determined by the set you hung around, the gang you pledged your allegiance to.  The violence and crime I witnessed, no child should.  My first crush, Jennifer Jordon, was innocently murdered in a drive by shooting, as a result of the gang violence I suddenly found myself in the middle of.  I could name 20 friends with 20 year sentences, a half dozen that lost their lives to the war on the streets.  At a sentencing of my own, a judge told my mother that I was one of California’s most dangerous youths.  I remember vividly the look on her face as she burst into tears when she realized her dear son was in serious trouble.  To home I would not go the judge said.  I was facing 5 years for my rebellion.

My poor mother, having struggled to survive, moved us right into an environment that prays upon the disenfranchised youth.  She, having saved her own life now found that of her sons, a single decision away from tragedy.  Faced with no other options my mother decided she would save me by finding me a mentor and that’s exactly what she did.

One day my mother told me of a man she had met at the deli, a wealthy, successful businessman that would like to help us. In our first meeting I asked him for money; three hundred dollars to be exact, he asked back “what for”, “clothes to get a job” I said.  With the mentality of a businessman he offered me a deal.  “I’ll give you a job running errands, take you to the store and buy you some clothes, I’ll help you catch up on your education and one day you’ll pay it forward and help others.” A smile on his face he reached his hand out to mine, and I shook it.

That night, so excited for the future, I would go for a run.  A run to exhaustion, I ran so many miles I almost collapsed as I returned to my home.  I went straight to the shower and fell to my knees, with cold water pouring down on me, I started to pray “God if you help me get out of this place, if you take care of my mother and give her the life that she deserves, I will be a better person, I will become an example for others to follow and I will share my voice with millions of people” my prayer ended. I did not know it at the time, but it was answered.

In less than a year I went from a troubled youth high-school drop out to a college student on the deans list, a computer engineer, making nearly six figures a year.  My mentor was there every step of the way, encouraging me to work harder and harder at every turn.  He taught me about entrepreneurship, about salesmanship, he taught me about investing, most importantly he tough me how to believe in myself.  I could not wait, to one day, be like him, happy like him and rich like him.

The wait would not be long.

With nothing to loose and only the future to look forward to, I broke from my corporate gig and started my first company at the age of 21 when I saw an opportunity to fill a market need.  My first company blossomed to nearly $1 million in sales in just two years.

At the age of 23 I felt I could take on the world.  I owned a home, was liquid for over one hundred thousand dollars, drove a BMW, eat the finest cuisine, traveled to exotic locations, and had achieved nearly every goal I had set.  But I wasn’t happy.  My small business did not meet my ever growing ambitions.  Risking it all I decided that I would not stand for less than what I dreamed of.  I started another company and sold my first.

My new company, with a grander vision required millions to start.  With a talent for persuasion I secured 2 million dollars in venture financing and a new mentor.

Over the next three years I was mentored by one of the most successful venture capitalists of all time.  He would call me his protégé and as a student of his, unimaginable doors were opened. These doors were to influencers, to education, to financing, to knowledge, to other mentors and to a confidence I found in myself.  Through these doors my vision grew strong. With three years of hard work we built something great, a company that would sell for over ten figures.

The minute I signed over the rights to my company and the sale was complete, I called my mother on the phone. “Mom” I said with a shaky voice.  “What’s wrong?” she replied.  “Mom I just sold my company, I’m a success mom, I’m a success, I said in tears.” “I knew you could do anything you dreamed of Ryan.  I always knew you would achieve great things.” Growing up, my mother and I had shared many cries together this time was the first of joy.

Today, ten years into my journey as an entrepreneur I spend my time honoring the deal I made with my first mentor and those in prayer.