This month, my wife, Kelli, and I were honored as 2025 Grove Park Heroes, alongside Wendy Stewart, Eric Pinckney, and Leah LaRue. Together, we joined a legacy of leaders recognized for their service and love for this historic Atlanta community.
Kelli and I were humbled to receive the Education Award, recognizing our work through the LEAD Center For Youth — not only in Grove Park but across the city of Atlanta. For me, this award is deeply personal for three reasons.
- I Was Born and Raised in Grove Park
I am a product of Grove Park. I attended Grove Park Elementary School, and this community shaped my earliest dreams and convictions. Growing up here, I saw the strength and resilience of Black families who made something out of nothing—people who built community despite the odds.
To return now and be recognized not as someone who “made it out,” but as someone still deeply connected to the neighborhood that made me, means everything.
- I Received the Award with My Wife, Kelli
To stand beside my wife — Kelli Stewart, CEO of the LEAD Center For Youth — was powerful. We’ve built our lives around the belief that love is leadership, and leadership is service.
Over the past 18 years, we’ve served more than 5,500 Black boys through year-round programming in partnership with Atlanta Public Schools, working with students from 3rd through 12th grade.
And this year, our legacy expanded even further. Our daughter, Mackenzi, now serves as LEAD’s Director of Tennis, leading our new program for Black girls in grades 3–12. Seeing her carry the torch forward is one of our proudest moments as parents and leaders.
Our work is our ministry. Our marriage is our message. And this award affirmed that the seeds we’ve planted in the soil of this city are bearing fruit.
- We Received the Education Award
This part might surprise some people. Because when most folks talk about education in disenfranchised Black communities like Grove Park, they only mean academics.
But I’ve always believed that education is learning what I need to learn to do what I need to do.
As a boy growing up in the cradle of the Civil Rights Movement, I was told that “success” for a Black boy meant becoming a doctor, lawyer, or engineer. Those were noble paths — but I knew early that wasn’t my calling.
While Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. represented the Black intelligentsia, one of my other heroes, Hank Aaron, represented the Black athlete. Both were scholars in their own way—Dr. King studied theology; Mr. Aaron studied excellence through baseball. I found myself somewhere in between: using athletics as education and education as liberation.
At eight years old, I fell in love with baseball watching Cubs games in the day and Braves games at night with my grandmother. By 14, I was working out with the Chicago Cubs. At 18, I was drafted. At 20, I signed professionally.
But my story is not just about baseball—it’s about access. The City of Atlanta, through Parks and Recreation, my church (Elizabeth Baptist Church), my family, and mentors like the late TJ Wilson, gave me room to grow.
When Kelli and I launched LEAD in 2007, it was my love letter to Atlanta — a way to say thank you for helping me become who I was destined to be.
So, Who Do I Think I Am?
I’ve been asked that question before—sometimes with sincerity, sometimes with cynicism: “Who does C.J. Stewart think he is?”
If you ever Google that question, this blog is the answer.
I am a follower of Christ.
I am a husband and father.
I am a transformative force.
I am openly and unapologetically Black.
I believe that athletics is a gateway to access and upward mobility.
I live and lead in a city where:
- Two-thirds of Black children live in concentrated poverty.
- Atlanta ranks #1 in America for income inequality based on race.
- A child born in poverty has only a 4% chance of escaping it.
My mission—our mission—is to change that.
A Generational Full Circle
Our daughters, Mackenzi and Mackenna, are proof of what’s possible.
- Mackenzi graduated with a 4.0 from The Westminster Schools.
- Mackenna graduated with a 4.0 from The Lovett School.
Both schools are in Buckhead—one of Atlanta’s most affluent communities—yet they share the same 30318 ZIP code as the Grove Park neighborhood where I was born.
My late grandmother, Lizzie Moss, was a domestic worker who helped raise children in Buckhead. She used to bring home hand-me-downs from the white families she served—some with the Lovett logo on them. That was my first exposure to that school.
Years later, my daughter would graduate from there.
That’s not coincidence. That’s providence.
Belief vs. Confidence
Here’s what I’ve learned:
- Belief is a feeling—it’s what you think and feel might be possible.
- Confidence is a fact—it’s what you know from getting things done.
I stand confidently today because of proven results, hard work, and grace. So when I speak with conviction, ask hard questions, and stand tall—it’s not arrogance. It’s assurance.
I need to learn what I need to learn to do what I need to do. Because Atlanta will never become a truly world-class city until hundreds of thousands of Black people are living sustainable lives of significance.
That’s who I am.
That’s who we are.
That’s what this Grove Park Hero award means to me.
Photo Credit: @zinointhecutt
Event: Grove Park Heroes Awards 2025
Venue: Mercedes Benz Stadium