“New York has been my stomping grounds for as long as I can remember. Teaching in the same area where I was raised is surreal — it’s like coming full circle."

As one of the few Black male educators in his community, Brian views his role as a form of representation that challenges stereotypes and inspires his students to envision futures unbound by societal expectations. 

"When I walk into a room, sometimes I’m the first Black male teacher a student has ever seen. Representation matters because it challenges stereotypes and shows students what’s possible."

His earliest academic inspiration, though, was from someone who didn’t look like him.

Brian recalls a defining moment in his youth when a white history teacher shattered the barriers of expectation that had shaped his world. Growing up in a community where racial biases loomed large, and opportunities often felt distant, Brian was taught to believe people who didn’t look like him could never truly support him. Yet this teacher defied the narrative.

“This was a white man, teaching kids who don’t look like him, telling us, ‘It doesn’t make a difference what you look like — you have the potential to do great things.’”

Day after day, this teacher encouraged him relentlessly — not with pressure, but with a steadfast belief in his potential. You can do more, his teacher would tell him, urging Brian to stretch beyond what he thought possible. 

It wasn’t just about academics. 

It was about reshaping how Brian saw himself and his place in the world. 

The teacher’s authenticity and care created a space where Brian could thrive academically, proving that representation and allyship could exist in unexpected forms.

“That framework is what I step into every day — being each other’s keeper, showing my students that I want for them what I would want for my own children.”