Often, we are inspired by the greatness that surrounds us—by those who came before us or by legacies of success. But my story is different. It isn’t one of legacy, privilege, or linear success. My story is rooted in hardship, resilience, and transformation. It is a story built not from what was handed to me, but from what I fought to become.

I was born and raised in Manhattan to parents who were more engaged in street life than in planning our next meal. I am the youngest of three children. We were proud when I graduated from John F. Kennedy High School in 1989—because for our family, even that was a major milestone. College wasn’t discussed. It wasn’t expected. My older brother never finished high school and has spent much of his life in the correctional system. My sister, however, became a light in our story—returning to school to earn her GED and eventually her bachelor’s degree in technology from Bronx Community College in 2012. Her determination sparked something in me.

Losing our mother while I was still a teen shifted everything. My sister Anita became our caretaker, a role she embraced with limited means and great heart. We all did what we could to support her, but the loss left a void that shaped much of my early adulthood. I became a teen mom, still learning how to care for myself while responsible for another life. Instead of being a motivator, that experience revealed just how broken the world could be—and how unprepared I felt to navigate it.

Everything changed in 1998 when someone referred me to a job supporting young adults with developmental disabilities and mental health needs. I applied, not out of passion, but out of necessity. What I didn’t expect was that these individuals would become my teachers, my motivation, and ultimately my purpose. The experience awakened something within me. I discovered a gift for connecting with this population—people who are too often overlooked or cast aside once they age out of traditional systems. They gave me meaning, and I became committed to giving them a voice.

I realized I wanted to do more, but I hit a wall: my lack of formal education. I had the drive, the vision, the experience—but not the credentials to influence decision-making on a broader scale. Fear held me back, but purpose propelled me forward. I returned to school and pursued a bachelor’s degree in psychology, knowing that a promotion would not only provide personal growth but also allow me to advocate more effectively for those I served.

This journey led me to establish Tracey's ClubHouse—a reflection of the lessons I’ve lived and the lives that have inspired me.