From Mixtapes to a Bachelor’s Degree: Credentials, Clarity, and Calling

 Earlier this month, on the 6th, I was blessed to earn my Bachelor of Science in Music Business from Full Sail University. Graduation was always a goal of mine, but I promised myself I would never go to college just to say I went. If I was going to invest the time and money, it had to be for something I was truly passionate about. Music was never a hobby for me—it was a calling. Walking across that stage wasn’t just about a degree; it was about honoring a promise I made to myself years ago.

I knew I wanted to be in the music industry before I even graduated high school. In fact, I removed myself from my school’s engineering-based magnet program because it wasn’t centered on music. The program director tried to explain how engineering skills would still apply, and she wasn’t wrong. But even in the 10th grade, I knew what I wanted. I compromised by staying in honors classes, but I refused to drift away from the gift God gave me.

After high school, reality hit fast. I found myself working at McDonald’s, writing lyrics on napkins between orders. Life had officially started. I still had the blessing of family support, but the pressure to go to college was always there. I prioritized art over money, even when the balance didn’t make sense on paper.

I enrolled at Full Sail University in 2013 for Music Production, just a year after graduating high school. But by 2014, I dropped out. At the time, the curriculum didn’t seem necessary for the debt I was accumulating. I had already released two self-produced mixtapes before graduating high school. They weren’t polished, but they were good—and people liked them. In my young mind, I thought I was ahead of the game.

YouTube was exploding with tutorials, and information about the music industry felt accessible. I convinced myself I didn’t need to rack up $60,000 in debt when I could learn online. Looking back, I realize I was operating out of scarcity. I had capped what was possible for myself because I was afraid of the financial risk. That perspective felt logical then, but wisdom has a way of revealing blind spots.

I transitioned from fast food into retail, where I discovered sales. Sales became my survival tool. I enjoyed the psychology behind it—the art of conversation, persuasion, and understanding human behavior. But sales also meant long hours, late nights, holidays, and constant pressure to perform.

In 2016, I became a father. That changed everything. Providing for my children added layers of responsibility that reshaped my priorities. I went harder in mobile sales, chasing commissions and stability. But with every promotion and every paycheck, there was still a quiet voice reminding me of the promise I made to myself.

I kept making music, but it felt like I was running in place. I could create, but I didn’t know how to move the music forward. I walked around for years feeling like I had let myself—and my kids—down. That weight sat on me for over a decade. Eventually, I got tired of carrying it.

I grew weary of working solely for numbers. Sales performance. Commission checks. Quotas. At times, I even struggled morally with certain company practices. I knew I had developed real marketing and sales skills, but I wanted to use them for something meaningful—something aligned with who I truly am.

That’s when the idea hit me: go back and finish, but this time for Music Business. Not production. Not just creativity. Strategy. Structure. Ownership. At the end of 2023, I applied to Full Sail again, this time fully aligned with my purpose.

This time was different. I knew sacrifices would be required. I had to pause making music consistently because time simply wouldn’t allow it. But I stayed focused. Real life had shaped me into someone relentless about goals, and I wasn’t going to let distraction win again.

Along the way, I learned hard lessons about decision-making. When I dropped out the first time, my father warned me that I might face obstacles or take the long road. He let me make that passionate decision, but he planted a seed of wisdom. After he passed, I reflected deeply on time and impact. Our time here is limited, and the responsibility to use it well is personal.

I’ve learned that passion has its place—but not in major decisions. Decision-making requires logic, emotional intelligence, and critical thinking. My journey took a ten-year detour, but it built resilience, character, and clarity. Today, I walk into the music industry confident in who I am. I don’t feel pressure to fit into rooms—I belong in them.

Now I have the credentials. I have the sales and marketing experience. I have the perspective of a father, a businessman, and a creative. The degree isn’t the finish line—it’s the foundation. Now it’s time to build, to impact my children and my community, and to operate as the boss I’ve worked so hard to become. And for the first time in a long time, I’m not chasing blindly—I’m building intentionally.