Today we’d like to introduce you to Tee-Ta Walker.
Tee-Ta, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
Wow! “My story”… thus far, I guess, because I am still writing it every single day. Well, I look at it like this. I thought the last four months would have been insurmountable for me, but they weren’t. Why? Because I have ‘become Tee-Ta.’ The ‘Tee-Ta’ that was purposefully put on this earth to do my part, to be the person who I am meant to be. And I could only get there on this particular path.
In all honesty, becoming Tee-Ta has been a bit (okay, very) rough. There have been challenges, struggles, obstacles, and pain. But there has also been greatness and exhilaration. Sure, would I have chosen my specific route to get to where I am now? Most likely not. And will I understand some of the circumstances, and even maybe the choices I made? Probably not. With the benefit of hindsight being 20/20, I do recognize now that some of the choices I made were based on a lack of information about, or trust in, the circumstances surrounding me. But I am sure about this—I was more than happy to finally get to this place so that I can do, and be, what God has called upon me.
How did I get to this place of truly accepting me for me? In its infancy, it started around the same time as my separation from my former husband and then divorce in 2018. Those events were the catalysts for me. Either I needed to accept that things were not what I would have liked them to be and take responsibility for my own actions and reactions (even if situations were beyond my control) or continue to live a life full of pain, struggles, and even misery. I could no longer mask my true feelings. I could no longer pretend I was okay.
On August 19, 2018, I came to a crossroads in my life. I either had to allow myself to hit rock-bottom and rip the mask off, admitting that I was not in a good place or continue living a life that was more destructive than constructive. And, truth be told, even as I’m writing this, the mix of emotions is nearly overwhelming. I am thrilled that I made the decisions that would lead me to where I am right now, but I fully acknowledge and respect the pain I had to endure to do so. That’s the thing about transformations—you get to a point where you push your fear aside and choose the unknown instead of allowing yourself to continue to find comfort in the cracks in your life that exist to keep you stuck, stagnated, and stifled. When I look back now, I did not even realize how unhappy or miserable I had been. I hid my reality so well that it was hidden even from me.
This all, of course, started long before 2018. My pain materialized when I was only five years old, immediately after my mom remarried. I remember standing outside of the church bawling, trying to cope with the fact that the life I had known was over, and a new life was about to begin. Yes, I knew this at age five! Even though we had lived in the projects in Seattle, Washington, those years were some of the happiest for me. We (my mom, brother, and I) had a great community filled with love and people who took care of each other. I didn’t even realize that we were considered a “low-income family” or on state assistance. We were happy and safe. My mom was always in charge, as my biological father struggled with his demons with alcohol and drug abuse. So, my mom did it all on her own, and she did amazing, at least from the perspective of her young daughter. Yet, on that day, a day that should be filled with happiness and hope, I cried. I realized that not all changes are for the best, even if they do move you out of the projects.
After my mom remarried, we move to Edmonds, Washington, about twenty-five minutes from Seattle. Edmonds (especially during the late 1970s to early 1990s) was predominately White. Being the only Black family in the neighborhood (or entire city, for that matter) came with a plethora of challenges. Edmonds was not only a White city but also middle- to high-income city. There was an economical line, and we now lived on the other side of it. We were no longer ‘poor,’ but we were compared to many of the other families. My mom and stepfather worked several jobs to keep the home and two cars. So, my brother and I spent a lot of time learning how to raise ourselves.
Besides my brother and I taking care of each other, we had the strain and burden of being the only Black family in the community. We were told we had to behave in a certain way. We were told that we were being scrutinized as a Black family, so we essentially had to try not to be ‘Black.’ When I look back now, it’s no wonder I was so confused at such a young age. I did not understand why I couldn’t be who I was. Not only did we have the unbearable strain of attempting to be people we were not, but being the only Black person at school created another stressor.
I experienced racism and discrimination not only from classmates but from teachers as well. I was called all sorts of names and even chased after school once in fifth grade, being called ‘nigger’ by a mob of white kids. The thing is, I was coached that this could happen to me, and when it did, I was told I should “just brush it off.” But there’s only so much the human spirit can take. Once, I was spat on as I was walking away, trying desperately not to allow the mob to get to me. Let me repeat that – I was spat on just minding my business, walking away. I felt degraded and I had reached my limit. I ended up punching the ringleader. While I felt dignified in that moment, finally standing up for myself, by the time I picked up my backpack and continued my walk home, the feelings of being less than human, crushed, and unhappy surfaced once again. I just could not understand why I was born Black. Why was I born to be attacked? This cruel combination of a lack of acceptance as to who I really was (“try not to be Black”) and acceptance of unacceptable behavior (“just brush it off”) at the same time ultimately was the foundation of my depression later in life.
Unfortunately, my teachers were no better than my classmates. I was either reprimanded more than my White classmates (for example, talking too much, even if I wasn’t the culprit whatsoever) or I was ignored. I couldn’t decide which was worse. For instance, one teacher told me that he didn’t want to spend any more time helping me on a math problem because “my race is lesser than and doesn’t excel anyway.” Or my social studies teacher who NEVER had anything positive to say about Black lives or the Black culture. It’s no surprise then that I got behind in school and didn’t have to take the typically required classes in high school. I was merely allowed to go to the next grade. They just didn’t care. And the devastating piece of this is that I started just not to care either. I started believing the lies, beginning to think I was lesser than. I thought they had to be right – I wasn’t smart, valuable, or worthy. So, I started to play that role. I tried to be who they thought I was. What’s really tragic though, is that I was a spunky, outgoing, energetic, and imaginative child before all of this.
With the move to Edmonds, the horrific treatment I endured in school, and my stepfather’s verbal abuse when I got home, I was losing my spunk. I began to feel like an empty shell, just going through the motions. My stepfather couldn’t stand my biological father. I assumed because he never helped my mother financially with us, so in my stepfather’s warped mind, my brother and I were to blame for that. When we made mistakes, it was because of “my father’s bloodline.” Somehow though, he would only pass that message on to me, not my brother. Let’s not forget, on top of being Black in a White neighborhood, I was also a girl. It’s no surprise that by the time I turned eleven, I was shutting down, masking who I was, and going through the motions of my life – my curiosity and imagination utterly crushed.
As I entered my 20s, I did not make the healthiest choices. Men became my drug of choice. In retrospect, I now understand it was due to the desire to feel love and wanted by a man, which I had never had. All of my relationships were broken because I simply had no idea how to relate to someone on that level. I would meet men who saw this weakness and would prey on me and become verbally abusive (my stepfather’s pattern). I was even assaulted once, which led to the man’s arrest and subsequent court proceedings. As the law of attraction predicts, though, broken people attract broken people.
Much has transpired between my 20s and now, including not having a home, sleeping on various friends’ couches, and being hospitalized for fourteen days due to extreme depression. There were also events involving my biological father with his alcohol and crack abuse and abandonment, which I now understand as ‘trauma.’
However, there was light to be found through all of this darkness. I met some wonderful people who cared enough to invite me into their homes. A Japanese American family welcomed me in their home in exchange for me caring for their children. This family helped me heal through loving treatment and their constant attempts to build me up by telling me how valuable, smart, and intelligent I was. I also met a few prominent Black families in my mid-20s, which is when I eventually made my way to college. Yes, I had to start with the remedial classes at a community college, but I didn’t care – I was finally going to college! Eventually, I made my way up to the college-level courses, which, of course, was challenging. I was taking a full course load while working full-time and struggling through my trauma. Still, I ended up transferring to the University of Washington and eventually got my master’s degree. While I felt some accomplishment through it all, I was still experiencing the “imposter syndrome,” as I truly felt unworthy and as if it really wasn’t me.
So, when August 19, 2018, came around and my then husband said he wanted a divorce after two and a half years, part of me wasn’t surprised. Yet, another part of me was devasted. The devastation had deep, unforgiving roots in that another man was trying to completely blame me for their unhappiness (like my stepfather) and the fact that once again, I was being abandoned (like my biological father). Now, it is nearly three years from the moment I was told I was being left (again), and my life has undergone the greatest of transformations. It’s a “crossroads type of thing.” It was either I go through the pain of accepting what has happened to me… no masking, no imposter syndrome, and truly dealing with the trauma or live a life of misery and prolonged depression for the rest of my days.
From November of 2018 to January of 2021, I went through what can only be described as a life transformation. A wise friend of mine said it well – “I was hit by a hornet’s nest.” And trust me, I got stung all over! Not only was I grieving my marriage, but I also ended up working through all my childhood traumas from the age of five. The repercussions of these events had long-lasting effects. I was completely broke (I came out of the marriage with less money than I went into it with), I was emotionally and physically drained, I was unable to work from depression and even immobility at times, I was disappointed with my mother because of my childhood, and I was learning to accept that my biological father simply cared more about himself than anyone else, including his children, that my stepfather never valued me, and that my upbringing had me fighting for my existence every single day.
Through this acceptance, I was finally able to surrender and understand my experience without shame and become the ‘Tee-Ta’ that I was met to be. Yes, I do feel like I was robbed growing up. However, if that had to occur in order for me to get where I am now – to recognize all the greatness within me and the assignments and missions I am now able to embark upon – then I can accept it for what it was and be grateful that it led me here. Only through my own experience and perspective could I be there for others in the ways that I am, feel the intense empathy I do for other children facing adversity, or feel the need to break my family curses and accept guardianship of my niece. And the ability to speak my truth and not be afraid has been the most liberating of experiences. Yet, the greatest gift of all, I love the skin I’m in and love that God chose me to be Black in America. Honestly, for everything I’ve been through, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now, I have been able to step fully into my business, missions, and assignments. Even though clients didn’t flow in as I had hoped until now, I understand it. We must experience what we need to first before the life we know is waiting for us begins to unfold. Only then can we understand and appreciate all that we have. And it is not specificity here that’s important. It’s life. For example, for me, the lessons I needed to learn had nothing to do with owning a business. It had to do with me understanding my value, gifts, and talents. Going from me not feeling valued and being subject to racist and discriminatory behaviors to now knowing what God wants from me was what I needed.
Today, my branding business helps other businesses increase their value. Talk about coming full circle! I am a co-host of a podcast where we talk about Black and White life in society to spearhead having tough but necessary conversations. I am embarking on becoming an author, as I truly believe transparency saves lives and that we go through experiences to help others through theirs. I do believe this is the really good part for me… that I’m on the other side of the darkness now, but that I am a work in progress… aren’t we all? Next time the darkness comes (and I know it will in some form because that’s life), I will take comfort in knowing that there is light on the other side. This is the beginning of becoming ‘Tee-Ta,’ and I am all for it!
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know?
Tee-Ta Walker & Associates, a co-creating digital branding and marketing agency, exists to help you discover and explore the essence of your business. We’re here to help you develop and establish a solid brand that gets you noticed and remembered when it matters most. We promise to deliver a True Brand Identity that expresses your authentic existence, engages your audience, and retains your customers through your:
Purpose and Why, Rally Call to invoke and appeal, Content to connect and relate, Visibility with purposeful and valuable design.
Alright, so to wrap up, is there anything else you’d like to share with us?
Along my journey, I have learned that it isn’t about money or materials. It is about people. Now, this doesn’t mean we cannot strive for wealth or material things, but ultimately, we must understand happiness is found within. And even if it is painful, it is best to work through whatever we need to become who we are. Spending time with yourself to self-reflect and heal is the best way to become who you are meant to be.
When folks ask me, “What do you do?” I don’t respond that I am a ‘Brand Strategist.’ I believe that is a false identity because our work or business title is NOT why we are here on this earth. We are here for a much bigger purpose. Larger than our titles, where we work, or where we went to college. We all have different journeys to lead us exactly to what is truly meant for us. So, instead, I answer what I do with who I am. I am the person who believes that everyone has greatness within, and through that belief, I have the honor of helping increase the value others offer. I am Tee-Ta!
Contact Info:
- Email: presence@teetawalker.com
- Website: https://teetawalker.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/theonlyteeta/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ablackgirlawhitegirl
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/TeeTaWalker
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPB2U41kxyoJp7XufVEJT9g
- Other: https://blackgirlwhitegirlconversations.com/
Image Credits
Tee-Ta Pic: Oluwaseyi Thomas Tee-Ta & Tiffany: Riley Blanks
