Is anyone listening? Is this thing on? Hello? Hello? Testing. Testing. 1, 2, 3.
Imagine me standing on a stage, tapping the microphone, looking out into an empty audience. That’s how I feel right now, as a CEO, Chairwoman, and most importantly, a mother. I’m Ruby N. Lewis, founder of Please Don’t Die Black Men (PDDBM), and I’m reaching out with a mix of frustration and gratitude.
Let me start with the frustration. I came to Clark County, WA, hoping to build a better life for myself and my child. I’m not from here—or anywhere, really. I’m an army brat, a wanderer who has seen every corner of this beautiful country. But while the land is stunning, the people have a way of making it feel unwelcoming, even horrific at times.
I grew up with Black teachers. I was in step class and on the drill team. (For those unfamiliar, stepping is a form of percussive dance rooted in African traditions. Drill teams are synchronized groups that march or perform with precision and pride. These are vital aspects of Black culture that build confidence, unity, and identity.) I want Black youth here to know what it feels like to see someone who looks like them, who understands them, leading the classroom. Studies show that Black students thrive academically and emotionally when taught by Black educators. It’s not just representation—it’s a lifeline.
But here? Many Black children in Clark County may never know that feeling.
Like Imani in Surviving White People (yes, I read it too), I ended up here not by choice but by circumstance. I came with hope and resources, but I watched them dwindle as I encountered systems and individuals determined to break my child’s spirit. My vibrant, happy, and beautiful daughter was reduced to tears, confusion, and pain by grown adults who should’ve nurtured her.
When public schools labeled her as autistic (a diagnosis that OHSU later refuted), they used it as a weapon. When they said she needed afterschool programs, they systematically blocked her from joining any. And when I realized no one would advocate for her, I created the programs myself. Under PDDBM, I built spaces where children like her—vulnerable, overlooked, often dismissed—could thrive.
These programs are free. They are for every middle and high schooler who feels unseen, unheard, and undervalued. They are my lifeline to kids who might otherwise slip through the cracks.
But here’s the thing: I am not Michelle Obama. I don’t have Barack’s charisma. I’m not an influencer, and when I speak, people tune me out. No matter how hard I try, my words seem to fall on deaf ears. I have proof of this.
Right now, nine middle and high school students, and even one determined fifth grader, have poured their hearts into designing clothing and creating a Wix website to showcase their work. These students are hosting a fashion show on February 8th, 2025, and as of this moment, there will be no one in the audience.
I’ve posted. I’ve emailed. I’ve told every school district I could. Tickets aren’t expensive, but they are necessary to cover costs. I’d make them free if I could, but as a single mother on Section 8, I can’t fund this alone.
And it’s not just the fashion students. At 4 PM today, my film students are holding a casting call for their short films—scripts they wrote themselves. They need actors and actresses to bring their stories to life. These kids have worked so hard, but if no one shows up, what does that teach them?
So, I’m asking—begging, even—for your help. Show these kids that they matter. Buy a ticket. Donate. Share this post. Post it everywhere:
Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, LinkedIn, Snapchat, Zepeto, and any platform you use. Share it with your family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, grocery store clerks, doctors, and whoever else will listen.
These kids need to see that people care. They need to see that their voices matter, that their work matters. Every ticket sold, every share, every dollar donated is a step toward proving to them that they are worth it.
Click HERE to donate, buy tickets, and learn more about the casting call.
Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for listening, even when it feels like no one does. Let’s show these kids that someone is listening. Let’s show them they are seen, heard, and valued.
Sincerely,
Ruby N. Lewis
Chairwoman, President, and CEO of PDDBM
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