Freshman year at Destrehan High School was more than just the start of high school, it was a turning point that tested every part of who I was: my faith, my focus, my identity, and even my safety. Moving from East St. John to Destrehan wasn’t just a change of schools; it was a full-blown cultural shift.

Destrehan might’ve been only a few miles down the river, but the social dynamics made it feel like I’d crossed into enemy territory. I was a kid from LaPlace now walking through the halls of a rival land—St. Charles Parish. There was already unspoken tension between certain groups of boys from both parishes, and my transfer only stirred the pot. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a dog in the fight; just being from LaPlace put a target on my back. Boys I had never met had already decided they didn’t like me. Meanwhile, some of the guys I grew up with back in LaPlace turned their backs on me too, simply because I wore the Destrehan uniform now.

But I wasn’t completely alone. A few of my friends came with me—Derrick Duhe (Jot), Theron Creecy (Hubba), Nick Mitchell was there also, and my best friend and cousin, Vance Jones. The three of us, Vance, Jot, and myself  had a bond rooted in years of brotherhood, backyard football, and growing up on the same streets in LaPlace. Hubba was a neighborhood friend that made an instant bond with us once he decided to attend Destrehan Highschool. Every morning, we piled into Jot’s car and headed to school with stories, jokes, and occasional chaos. We were known as “the boys from LaPlace,” and that label stuck. Whether we liked it or not, we represented our Parish,  regardless who liked it or not.

But this rivalry wasn’t just about where you were from. It was territorial, Norco boys, New Serpy boys, and boys  from Preston Hollow in St

Rose, all had their own identity. And just like in St. John Parish, where The Hilltop in LaPlace, Reserve, and Garyville had their own divisions, some of those neighborhood beefs bled into the school halls too. Sometimes the drama wasn’t even from your own mouth, it was from someone else’s history that you inherited the moment you crossed into their space.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. Being new brought a different kind of attention too, especially from the girls. A new face at a school where most kids had known each other since elementary? That made me stand out. And my mama had me dressed right on that first day, collared shirt, khakis, and Penny loafers with the actual penny in the middle. Trust me, that outfit made an impression. I started writing a girl’s name on my hand each day just to seem taken and avoid the drama. I didn’t really have a girlfriend, my focus was sharper than that. I came to Destrehan for one thing: a scholarship. Everything else was noise.

Even with all the distractions, I knew why I was there. I had to go through it, every side-eye, every whisper, every test of my patience and pride, because I had a vision for my future. And if surviving the storm was what it took to become a Fighting Wildcat, then I was built for it and ready to endure it to the end.

In the next episode: I’ll take you even deeper into the experiences that shaped me, moments with people I’ll never forget and situations that either built me or nearly broke me.