The Wealth of My Mother's Wisdom: The Lessons That Made My Life Rich

by Terrence J

  Finally, I called my mom and told her what had happened.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Remember what I always tell you—the harder you work at this the luckier you’ll get. Never give up. Good things are going to happen to you.”

  I sighed, growing frustrated. “Mom, I just spent my entire life savings on a plane ticket to New York City and got cut. I drove to Atlanta and embarrassed myself and it amounted to nothing. What else do you want from me?”

  She wouldn’t back down. “God always has a plan. When it’s your time, it’s your time.”

  Back in Daytona Beach, I looked at my inspiration wall for a long time. And then I began to tear up. It takes a lot to make me cry, but I was definitely on the verge. The dream was over, for real this time. I reached up, tore the inspiration board down, and trashed it.

  The next three days at work were empty and dispiriting. As much as I loved my job at NASCAR, the fact that I had been so close to my dream made it harder than ever to feel satisfied with my life in Daytona Beach. I was so depressed that I literally got sick—headaches, upset stomach, fever. It served me right for calling in sick the week before.

  Finally, on a random Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang. When I answered it, I heard a strange woman’s voice. “This is Connie Orlando, from BET, looking for Terrence Jenkins?”

  I thought someone had sent a friend to play a trick on me. “Very funny. Shut the hell up.”

  The lady spoke again, in a more serious tone, and I could tell she was for real. “This is Terrence?”

  I thought I was going to have a heart attack. “That’s me,” I said apologetically, squeaking with nervousness.

  “We’re looking at your footage from the audition, and we’re really excited about you,” she said. “You’re now a finalist for the new faces search here at BET, and we’d like you to fly up to New York City.”

  For a second, I almost didn’t believe it. Was this a practical joke? I felt like I was flying. It wasn’t over yet!

  The first person I called was my mom. “I told you the opportunity would come,” she said, proudly. “Now it’s time to show and prove.”

  I flew up to New York a few weeks later, calling in sick at NASCAR yet again. There, I joined nine other people from across the country for a weeklong competition. I told myself I wasn’t making friends—these people were vying for the same job I wanted, after all—but I still couldn’t help but liking some of the people I met—including Alesha Renee and Lamorne Morris, who would later become my coworkers and buddies. All week long, the ten of us went through a series of hosting and reporting challenges. At night we all stayed at the Hudson Hotel, but during the day, they sat us all in a small conference room and filmed us, reality-show style, while cameras followed our every move. It felt like being hazed. The whole time, we had no idea how many people they were going to pick—one of us? Four? None?

  The person who really stood out to me that week was Rocsi Diaz. From the jump, I knew Rocsi was special. Out of everybody there, she had the most experience, and I was impressed with her work ethic. Over the next seven years, she would become one of my best friends.

  Tiffany started giggling, and gave me the look that I get all the time when Rocsi is mentioned. She laughed and said, “Friends, huh?”

  Just to set the record straight, after working with Rocsi for all those years, I can say with all honesty that we never dated or had a relationship. What I will say is that we are the exact same age, started at the exact same time, and went through a lot of life experiences together, from dating people to issues with the press to moving on to the next stage in our careers. Through the good times and bad, I’m just thankful that I had a partner that I could lick my wounds with at the end of the day. Although we never dated, she’s one of my best friends and we share a deep relationship that I’m very appreciative of. But I did see her half-naked in her dressing room one day, and I’m glad I have such a hot best friend.

  But back to the story . . .

  Meanwhile, my bosses down in Florida were growing frustrated with my continued absence. A few days into my stay in New York, I got an email from my boss: “We really need to talk when you come back.” I hated lying to NASCAR; I knew I was on thin ice. If I didn’t get picked, I really needed my job back. Every night, lying in my bed, I’d toss and turn and wonder if I was making the right decision, gambling my future career on something that might not work out.

  At the end of the week, on a live broadcast, BET announced the results of the competition. Five of us were brought onstage in the main BET studio. In front of live cameras, we were given feedback on our performances by two of the top BET execs at the time, Reggie Hudlin and Byron Philips, as well as Stephen Hill. When they got to me, they just said: “We don’t have a lot of feedback for you—you’re going to be a star.” It took a minute to even register what they meant—that I had just been chosen as a New Face. Just like that, my life changed forever.

  But just because a door opens for you, that doesn’t mean your life is going to magically change overnight. People think that as soon as you get hired for a new job, make it to the NBA, or get picked for a reality show, everything is going to be great. You’re done! But that’s not what happens. Instead, this is when the hard work starts, and the training begins.

  For me, the struggle was far from over.

  As it turned out, I wasn’t being offered a job at BET. Being a New Face didn’t mean anything concrete. They weren’t offering me money, a contract, or any kind of a regular gig. In a nutshell, the network needed new correspondents and was offering work on a “pay to play” basis: If I did an on-air assignment, they’d pay me for it, but there was no consistent work to keep the lights on. And what were those assignments going to be? It wasn’t clear. The “opportunity” was ambiguous at best.

  The only thing that was crystal clear to me was that there was a chance to do some on-air work for BET—but I needed to be in New York City, near the headquarters, to make it happen.

  Racing back to Daytona Beach one last time, I called my mom. “On the one hand, I have this amazing job with real growth possibilities at one of the biggest companies in the world. They’ve nurtured me and are offering me stability and a 401k and respect in the business world. On the other hand, I have this pipe dream. I don’t know what it means, what it looks like, or what the money is like.”

  I could have predicted what my mom was going to say. “Follow your heart at all times,” she advised me. “Sleep on it. Think about it. Don’t do anything because you are looking for other people’s admiration, or for money, or for respect. Do it because it’s what you’re passionate about. Do what makes you happy when you wake up in the morning. Do what your heart tells you to do. And you know that, no matter what that may be, I’ll support you.”

  To be honest, though, I knew exactly what I was going to do from the moment I stepped in front of the camera at BET. I walked back into NASCAR that week and quit my day job. It was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life, but surprisingly, they were wonderful about it—“You always have a place with us at NASCAR. Go follow your dreams.” It was the warmest good-bye, and reaffirmed to me that I was on the right path—I support and love NASCAR to this day.

  By the end of the month, I was back in New York City. I’d blown all my money on that initial flight to New York and breaking my lease in Florida, and had no guaranteed income from BET: I was dead broke. Thank God for Fred’s whole family—his mom, Miss Cynthia, let me sleep on a couch in her basement on Long Island. His grandmother Gussie used to make me chocolate cake that I could die for. Everybody in his entire family, from his aunts and uncles to nieces and nephews, supported me through that time, and I am forever grateful.

  I decided that being named a New Face at BET was the equivalent of the door being cracked open. Now it was up to me to kick the door down. I behaved as if I had a full-time job at BET. Every morning, I would get dressed and go down to the studio to see if there was any work I could do, any
assignment I might be able to jump on. It was the hustle, Lisa Jenkins Gonzalez style.

  Some days, especially in the beginning, I spent most of my time just sitting in the lobby. I’d brainstorm segments to produce and pitch them to any producer who walked by. I introduced myself to the directors of photography and the camera guys, to everybody, from Rick Grimes (the executive producer) to Debra Lee (the CEO) herself. I ingratiated myself to Big Tigger, the legendary host of BET’s Rap City, and essentially became his intern. I’d run and buy his sneakers for him, open for him at the club, and assist him with any errands he needed done, and in return he taught me the ins and outs of hosting. He was my first television mentor.

  I jumped at any opportunity to work, no matter how humbling, and assignments eventually began to float in my direction. Every few weeks, the show’s producers would call me up: “Ludacris has a record release party.” “The host of our countdown show is sick and we need someone to fill in today.” Whatever it was, I’d do it. Whenever BET needed someone to cover a fashion show, a red carpet event, a movie premiere, I was there: the guy standing out in the rain, begging celebrities for a sound byte, working his butt off for a shot at the big time.

  There were definitely moments when I wondered what the hell I was doing. Two years out of college, my friends from school were getting jobs as engineers or at law firms, growing real success. I, meanwhile, was living in a kind of hell, sleeping on couches and eating my friend’s mom’s Hamburger Helper. My parents would send money to pay for my metro pass, but they’d already given me so much—my college tuition, my car—that I felt like I’d tapped them dry. I wanted to do this on my own.

  And yet—every day, I woke up knowing that I was finally doing what I truly wanted to do. I was learning, getting closer to my dream. As I’d read in The Alchemist—this was my personal legend, and I was going to see it to the very end.

  The story has a happy ending, of course. After seven months of being what was probably the most persistently visible New Face and unpaid coffee fetcher in BET history, I got a phone call from Stephen Hill. Rocsi was conferenced in with us. “How are you enjoying your time with us?” he asked.

  “It’s been a lot of fun,” I said honestly. Rocsi answered similarly.

  “Well, you’ve shown real dedication and persistence,” he said. “It may not have been obvious to you, but we’ve been grooming you this whole time. And we want you to host 106 and Park.”

  It turned out that Big Tigger, who had taken over from AJ and Free, was moving to Washington, D.C., for a huge radio contract, so BET needed two new hosts for its flagship music show. Rocsi was being tapped for the female host and I—Terrence J, this skinny kid from North Carolina—was going to be the male host.

  It was one of the happiest moments of my life, so far. I was overwhelmed with joy—I’d taken a leap, and it had paid off. In spades: The contract I was offered was more than I would have made in three years at my old job at NASCAR.

  I went on to host 106 & Park for the next seven years, experiencing some of the highest ratings in the show’s history. I interviewed Barack Obama, Madonna, Jamie Foxx, Will Farrell, and—yes, even my personal idol—Will Smith. I leveraged my growing profile on 106 & Park into an acting career, starring in box office blockbusters like Think Like a Man. And finally, I wound up following in the footsteps of Ryan Seacrest, filling his coanchor spot alongside Giuliana Rancic on E! News. And I’m just getting started.

  The lessons my mom has taught me over the years paid off, big time. She was right about so many things, but especially these three:

  1. Surround yourself with positive people. If I didn’t have positive people encouraging me, I would have given up.

  2. The harder you work, the luckier you become. Doors opened to me because I just kept banging on them.

  3. Never, ever, ever give up. There’s nothing to lose if you keep trying. As my mom had put it, the day of that first audition, “If they cut you once, what can they do to you now?” That’s now my motto in life. It all starts, and ends, with that.

  I often think about that epic drive from New York City to Atlanta, back in 2005. Everything in my current life seemed to start that day. But looking back even further, I think of the drive that my mom made from New York City to North Carolina, fourteen years earlier. That was my real start. “Baby,” she’d told me. “I have big dreams for you, and those dreams start in North Carolina. I have to follow them. I don’t want you to give up on me.”

  I never gave up on her, and she never gave up on me. And now we are both living our dreams.

  I could hear Tiffany’s call waiting clicking again. I glanced at my watch—somehow we had talked for two hours. “See, I told you it was a long story. Go ahead, I gotta run anyway.”

  “It’s a good story. Really inspiring,” she said. “But I still don’t know how I’m going to find another job in fashion.”

  “You don’t have to know—that’s the point,” I said. “You just have to keep trying.” But she had already clicked over to answer Sean’s call, and I wasn’t sure if she’d heard what I’d said.

  * * *

  In Her Own Words: Lisa on Dreams & Perseverance

  Dreams help us soar. When you dream, you can go as far as your imagination goes. Think of the Wright brothers, dreaming to fly. Dreams are how things are created, inventions come about, and companies change the world. Dreams are why people become movie stars or surgeons. They are vital.

  But you have to put the work in to make your dreams real. You have to focus, and not get distracted. A dream is only that—it’s just a dream. If you don’t work on it, it’s only potential—and you can have all the potential in the world, but if you don’t focus and work hard and persevere, it’ll only ever be potential. My dream was to have Terrence go to college, and so I focused; I put in the time and support and money that was needed to help him get there. I persevered for twenty years, and he made it.

  If you’re going to dream, you have to also come up with a plan and work hard. Terrence has become successful, fulfilled his potential and lives his dreams, because he works it like an animal. He sees how his dad and I work like animals. I get up at five in the morning to work at my job. Every day I ask myself, What is it that I’m doing to propel my company forward today? Did I contact a new customer? Did I try something new? Did I put in the work?

  A dream only goes as far as the work, the focus, and the plan behind it. Otherwise it’s just a dream.

  * * *

  Kevin Hart Talks About His Mom

  Kevin Hart is one of the funniest people I know. He is also one of the smartest businessmen, too. One of the most celebrated names in comedy today, his most recent special Let Me Explain and tour changed the business model for comedians forever. The resident scene stealer on Think Like a Man and Think Like a Man Too, Kevin also has a string of films on the horizon, including Ride Along with Ice Cube and About Last Night. The sky is the limit for Kevin and I’m privileged to call him a friend. Kevin told me about his mom and how tough she was on him. Kevin’s mom passed away in 2006, and his love and respect for her are still clear today.

  My mom was overreligious to the point where it was scary. She put God first before anything, and everything had a spiritual side. She was strict, the kind of woman who would beat your ass and then tell you that God told her to do it. It was confusing. But you know what? They don’t make them like her anymore. She was strong-minded, independent, and stubborn.

  I remember in high school I wanted to play basketball, but to get to practice at 5:30 in the morning I had to catch the bus. It was just too early. My mom told me it wasn’t safe. Instead, I set all the clocks in the house forward two hours, so when I left the house at 4 A.M. it looked like I was leaving at 6 A.M. She got to work two hours early. When she realized what I had done, the level of trouble I was in was insane. She whupped my ass, but it was worth it because I made the team.

  But because of how strict she was, and the way she stuck to her beliefs, she raised
me as a nice, amazing young man. There was no bending with my mom—you’d get home from school and do your schoolwork and go outside for an hour, and then when you were done, you’d come inside and read a book. It was all about learning and education. That’s all she believed in. Fun wasn’t a priority.

  She made sure I was active but in productive activities: I was on the swim team from ages eight to seventeen, three different ball teams, and the track and field team. She wanted to keep me focused. I take that with me to this day, and am the same way with my kids, putting them in everything so they have lots of outlets.

  I’m a success today because of her. It all goes back to the work ethic I learned from her. I want to put my all into the things I feel like I can achieve. There’s no better reward for hard work than a payoff. I saw it work for her, and now I see it for myself. My goals are high and I feel like if I continue to put my mind to them, I can achieve all of them.

  My mom died seven years ago. She was very proud of what I’d achieved. She’d be even prouder now. But she never took credit for my success. After all, she was religious, so she didn’t like the cussing.

  8

  My Mother’s Words of Wisdom About Putting Others First

  Tiffany and Sean are over, for real this time. Tiffany called me last night, in tears. “He’s been cheating on me for months,” she said. “I only found out because the other girl posted about it on her Facebook page, calling me out in front of everyone. I feel like an idiot. He totally played me.”

  I can’t say I was surprised to hear it. And honestly, I had to hope that this was an opportunity for her to get some better influences in her life. Sean had been holding her back from the things she wanted, anyway. But I wasn’t going to say that. And it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—especially coming only two weeks after she lost her job.