Three years ago I saw myself in ‘City Lights’, but I knew I wasn’t ready.
I saw people from different backgrounds and with different interests coming together in pursuit of a common mission. My desk-job in investment banking at the time lacked this type of range in personalities and intimacy of objectives, and it was something I missed deeply from college football.
I saw a for-profit company that was accountable to its stated interest and commitment to meeting truly community-oriented goals, spending marginal dollars at the expense of its own profit to ensure higher living standards for its residents, and in turn the sustainability of its mission. A manifest pursuit of community revitalization and equity that was again distant if at all present in my job at the time, and emblematic of the type of legacy I felt I wanted to leave: local and tangible impact.
And I saw my family. ‘City Lights’ was my father’s vision. A six-phase rebuild of 733 units of affordable housing in one of Atlanta’s toughest neighborhoods, where every resident would have the opportunity to live in new, highly amenitized and secure housing. This vision came about on the shoulder’s of work by my grandfather five decades ago as a pioneer and guinea pig of experimental affordable housing projects in cities that had the courage to try something new and to take a chance on someone who at the time had no real infrastructure at scale behind him. I certainly had no bloodline tie to the work I was doing at J.P. Morgan.
And yet my self-doubt preceded my courage to take part, at least right away.
I felt I hadn’t carved enough of a path on my own to be ready to join a family business.
I felt I didn’t yet have the professional confidence to believe I could be an engine for such lofty goals and with such tangible points of accountability, where a misstep would impact a resident in need as opposed to some corporation with massive profits. A person with a name, and for whose home I would be responsible.
And I admittedly felt unprepared for the pressure that I knew would come with working for my father.
I didn’t know what ready would feel like. I just knew I didn’t feel it then, but seeing ‘City Lights’ in-person for the first time provoked an urgency in me to confirm that Wingate might one day be a proper home for me, and that I could be a formidable contributor to efforts I found so inspiring.
Within six months, I took my first big step to quench my curiosity. I leveraged a human capital program called Masa to find housing and an internship in Israel at a firm called iAngels. I learned about iAngels from a friend I respected highly, and who in turn spoke highly of the leadership team at iAngels. One of whom is Shelly Hod Moyal, who I still keep in close touch with and is writing one of my recommendations. Shelly had offered me to stay full time, but I was also being recruited by large, global household names like Blackstone, Koch, and SoftBank. I decided to join the founding SoftBank team and spent the next two years between Tel Aviv, London, and San Francisco, having experiences and meeting people along the way who I know I will be close with for many years to come. And, perhaps more importantly, I began to build a confidence in myself in moments big and small I could contribute in a way that was met with real positive feedback, and work with people I never thought I’d have the chance to meet.
But on the back of a tumultuous six months of internal restructuring at SoftBank–which translated to a very limited ability to execute on new opportunities for me–I received a timely call from my father. “I’m getting older, the company is at an inflection point, and I’d like you to come and least learn about what we do”. And it wasn’t just Wingate that was growing, so was my family. My sister’s began to have children of their own, and after months of carving a very independent path, I was eager to be close again with family. I took a few months to reflect on my father’s proposal, and eventually my path became clear.
What was I still missing at SoftBank? Local and tangible impact. I was mostly focused on investments in cybersecurity software. The notion of the potential scale of impact was compelling and inspiring, but the reality of seeing that impact come to fruition was distant. After an investment, I would have no idea if a software we had backed had prevented some massive security breach. I wasn’t in the security offices of my portfolio company’s clients, and after an executed opportunity (or, more often, a passed-on opportunity by the powers above me), it was on to the next project. Sure if I had been a part of the team that invested in Uber I’d open up my phone and see an emblem of my work in my hand. But consumer products were not my area of focus, nor were they always community oriented. The juxtaposition with ‘City Lights’ was so clear. I couldn’t shake the memory of a conversation I had with someone in property management, who group in the community we were working to revitalize. I could hear the fulfillment in his voice.
Was I ready? I came to the conclusion that I would never really know. But I had a newfound confidence. I felt as ready as I’d ever be, and I knew I was young enough to still have the energy to figure things out wherever my shortcomings may inevitably fall.
‘City Lights’ became everything I had hoped and much more.
By some stroke of luck, I work for someone who I think is the most consummate professional I’ve encountered. Previously, I’ve worked for people who were incredible at structuring opportunities and threading the needle on solutions, but had no sense of what it meant to build a team. I’ve also worked for people who were amazing at team building but had limited conviction, discretion, or instinct for making decisions. John Tatum, the head of development and acquisitions at Wingate, is the full package. John possesses the depth and breadth of knowledge to quickly and decisively arrive at next steps–a trait which, if absent, can become incredibly tiresome for subordinate colleagues–and John is also deeply cognizant of what it means to build a team and a culture.
I’ve seen my family in a new light. I’ve realized how truly visionary my father’s vision was in understanding that Wingate’s preservation effort at ‘City Lights’ was foundationally dependent upon Low Income Housing Tax Credits–an instrument not previously utilized by Wingate. And I learned that my sister, albeit unsurprisingly, was so dedicated to the idea of the intimacy of home that she knocked on the door of every ‘City Lights’ resident to personally and clearly articulate alternatives available: relocation to one of the new ‘City Lights’ Wingate communities or receive a 12-18 month subsidy from the federal government and find housing elsewhere. Given the extent of our community support–predominantly via Operation P.E.A.C.E–which I learned about since joining, more than 95% of residents have elected to live in one of our new developments. And, most importantly, no resident has been bereft of the opportunity to ask questions about what our work means for them. That’s because my sister, Nikki, intimately respects the intimate nature of what it means to decide a home.
I’ve found myself refreshed. I interact with a range of professionals on a daily basis and in turn a range of personalities and backgrounds. Residents, management, construction teams, architects, environmental specialists, local government officials, federal government officials, and even basketball coaches (we sponsor the Atlanta Kings). I hadn’t realized it until I joined Wingate how synonymous the enormity of my prior professional dialogue had been–everyone when to a fancy school, most were essentially driven by self-promotion (either for pay or status), and most of the problems being solved only had consequences for the already successful. Wingate has been supremely different.
The most consistent thread with my prior experience has been that relationships and an open-mind have been primary drivers of progress.
I never could have closed the fourth phase of ‘City Lights’ by myself if I was not able to rely on the insights and expertise of our head of construction or the leadership teams of our lending teams at Prudential that participated in all prior ‘City Lights’ financings.
The same story pertains to Wingate’s largest potential current development opportunity in Ohio. Six months ago I went to college-friend’s wedding. I knew my friend Erik would be in attendance, and had similarly made a transition from private equity to real estate. We got coffee the morning after the wedding. Erik was manifestly curious about the LIHTC program. We met weekly for 3 or so months thereafter and I poured into Erik everything I knew and was learning about the LIHTC program. Erik quickly realized the barriers to entry, and that they applied to him and his firm. He asked if I knew any potential partners. I suggested that we set a formal meeting to discuss with our respective teams. Now we are bidding on the most significant and challenging affordable projects in Ohio via a joint-venture with Wingate and Erik’s firm, a construction company with deeply rooted local relationships in Ohio but no experience in the affordable industry–the precise reciprocal of Wingate, limited experience in Ohio and a deeply rooted history in affordable housing.
Its ironic but unsurprising that relationships have been the foundation of my decisions to bring on two new team members. I was called upon by John Tatum to add horsepower. I created an online application on ‘workable’ for potential hires. We received over 1,000 applications, which were admittedly difficult to diligence. Two hires, however, came from references.
Lorenzo Lindsey was a freshman quarterback at Georgetown when I was a senior. I remembered him as thoughtful and softspoken. He reached out to me on LinkedIn since he started a role in Atlanta-focused (City Lights is in ATL) market-rate acquisitions at GID. He later told me that a medically retired Georgetown football player named Graham Hill was looking for a job in real estate, and that this individual was one of the most exceptionally hard-working and well-liked people he had met. Both of which are critical in affordable housing, given the magnitude of time-sensitive documents and broad range of personalities, respectively. I called my coach as a reference, from whom I learned that Graham had grown up in a family of 16 siblings, 12 of which were non-blood related. His parents were missionaries, and had adopted and welcomed numerous individuals to their home. After what felt like infinite interviews with candidates from prestigious schools–I had a hunch that Grahams background was unique, and therefore was his ability to interact with a broad range of potential partners. When I interviewed Graham, my hunch was confirmed. We hired Graham one month after.
Three months after hiring Graham, we heard from the third highest ranking person in our management company that a 2x Captain and 2x National Champion of UVA Men’s Lacrosse was looking for a job. 3 months later we had two new members of the team, who have since contributed indefinitely.
It wouldn’t be easy for me to take a hiatus and don’t take it lightly
But I grew up around Harvard, I always had a dream of attending, and anecdotally I’ve been able to sense the impact it can have on peoples lives. Whether its connections or curriculum.
My cousin-in-law who is an HBS-grad once gave me a piece of advise that I haven’t forgotten. “If you live a long life, you won’t regret attending HBS; and if you live a short life, you won’t regret attending HBS”
I think he’s right. I’ve always loved school but the chance to attend HBS would be the first time I could conclusively engage in a curriculum and with a student body that I think would have a long term impact on my life/
Would miss the City Lights but I want to make them brighter.
Look at programs and professors