My Journey! From Rural Jamaica to Real Estate: A Journey of Persistence I was born in a small farming village in rural Jamaica, where life moved at the pace of the seasons. My parents left for America when I was very young, chasing opportunities they couldn't find at home. My grandmother raised me in a modest house where we had everything that mattered—love, laughter, and the kind of community where everyone looked out for each other. Those early years taught me that wealth isn't measured in what you have, but in who stands beside you. At eight years old, I joined my parents in the United States. I'll never forget stepping off the plane in winter, seeing snow for the first time, and wondering what kind of place this was where the sky fell white and cold. The transition was harder than that snow—kids at school didn't hide their opinions about my accent, my clothes, or the way I didn't understand their references. But I learned. I adapted. That's what you do when you are left without an option. The inner city presented its challenges during my teenage years. There were moments when I could have taken easier, darker paths, just like many of my peers. Instead, I kept my head down and focused on education—the one thing my parents insisted no one could ever take away from me. I worked my way through community college, then university, and eventually earned dual master's degrees. Not because I love sitting in classrooms, but because each degree was a promise kept to my parents, who sacrificed everything for their children's future. I discovered real estate by accident while working a corporate job that paid the bills but numbed my spirit. A small classified ad led to an opportunity in apartment rentals and home sales.
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