I went to Girl Guides as a kid. I don’t think I dressed up (I was about 8), but one of my fashion staples was a pair of white Air Jordans with black and red accents. If I remember correctly, the kicks featured an iridescent midfoot swoosh. I believe they were kid boy sizes. During one event, two girls stared in my direction, whispering to each other. A few moments later, one of the girls approached me, admitting they were chatting about my Jordans. The thing is, rocking fresh kicks wasn't a big deal. That was just the story of my life.

I grew up on Nike.

Seeing powerful black celebrities wearing Jordans mesmerized me. Two, in particular—Spike Lee and Michael Jordan—were everything I wanted to be. In fact, all my influences at the time, from Monie Love and MC Lyte to Kid'N'Play and Kris Kross, rocked Jordans.

It wasn’t surprising, at least to me, that I'd want to work for the big SWOOSH as an adult. I'm not an athlete, nor have I tried to be, but the brand's ethos made me feel there'd be a place for me within its content team to help shape Nike's narrative for younger generations, particularly young black girls like me.

Working at Nike's HQ has been on my wishlist for some time, so much so that I added several employees on LinkedIn and even arranged informal Zoom chats. However, I received rejections for every position I applied for. Is it disheartening? It was until it wasn't.

People have told me that Nike has a toxic work culture, but knowing me, this revelation didn't sway my opinion of the brand. When I learned that John Donahoe was stepping down as CEO, coincidentally ahead of the US election, I thought, 'Maybe this is a positive thing!' given that his tenure at the brand wasn’t a fit. However, after reading Forbes' piece about the brand's falling reputation, especially over the past four years, I began to consider that rejection could be a form of protection.

I'm not about to launch this platform as a hit blog on Nike. However, I am a journalist covering streetwear and youth culture beats. Therefore, I feel compelled to report on things as they land on my desk.

Does this mean that I'll never work for Nike again? I mean, never say never. Even though many activists would say, "Don't buy Nike," I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being a Nike stan. As I've gotten older, I still find Nike's shoes and brand messaging aspirational. However, there's a glaring disconnect between Nike's public perception and reality. As the adage goes, nothing is as it seems, but what's going on at Nike, an all-American emblem, feels symbolic, almost like the implosion of the West.

As I said, I'm keeping it light for this post, but I'm committed to seeing where this journey takes me.