Listen:
Check out all episodes on the My Favorite Mistake main page.
My guest for Episode #308 of the My Favorite Mistake podcast is C.J. Stewart, co-founder and Chief Visionary Officer at the LEAD Center for Youth, an Atlanta-based nonprofit focused on empowering Black youth through sports-based development. Before dedicating his life to mentorship and advocacy, C.J. was drafted twice by the Chicago Cubs and built a successful career as a professional hitting instructor and co-owner of Diamond Directors. He’s also the author of Living to Lead: A Story of Passion, Purpose, and Grit.
C.J.’s “favorite mistake”? Becoming an avid runner. What started as a tribute to the life of Ahmaud Arbery turned into a transformational habit—one that reshaped his health, mindset, and mission. In this powerful conversation, C.J. unpacks the difference between mistakes and stupidity, explores the struggles that shape significance, and reflects on the emotional toll and systemic barriers faced by Black athletes. He also shares how running has helped him connect across generations, communities, and cultures.
Throughout the episode, C.J. offers a candid and thought-provoking look at racism, leadership, and the need for real advocacy—not just good coaching. He shares insights from his own life as a player, coach, and nonprofit leader, challenging listeners to consider how we name and respond to problems, and why protecting others is at the heart of leadership. This is a conversation about growth, conviction, and using our platforms to make a difference.
Questions and Topics:
- What’s your favorite mistake, and what did you learn from it?
- In what way was becoming a runner a mistake?
- How do you define the difference between a mistake and stupidity?
- How has running changed you—physically, emotionally, and socially?
- Did pursuing a career in professional baseball feel like a mistake in hindsight?
- What does LEAD stand for, and what is its mission?
- Why is advocacy more important than just good coaching?
- Why do you think there are so few Black players in certain positions, like catcher or pitcher?
- What needs to change in baseball to address racism and systemic barriers?
- What do you mean when you say you became “openly Black” in 2015?
- How does racism take an emotional toll on Black athletes, even those who succeed?
- Are MLB diversity programs effective, or are they falling short?
- What else needs to happen to create real change and equity in baseball?
Scroll down to find:
- Video version of the episode
- How to subscribe
- Quotes
- Full transcript
Find C.J. on social media:
Video of the Episode:
Quotes:
Click on an image for a larger view





Subscribe, Follow, Support, Rate, and Review!
Please follow, rate, and review via Apple Podcasts, Podchaser, or your favorite app — that helps others find this content, and you'll be sure to get future episodes as they are released weekly. You can also financially support the show through Spotify.
You can now sign up to get new episodes via email, to make sure you don't miss an episode.
This podcast is part of the Lean Communicators network.

Other Ways to Subscribe or Follow — Apps & Email
Automated Transcript (May Contain Mistakes)
Mark Graban:
Hi. Welcome to My Favorite Mistake. I'm your host, Mark Graban. Our guest today is C.J. Stewart.
Mark Graban:
He is the co-founder and Chief Visionary Officer at LEAD—that's L-E-A-D—Center for Youth. So we’ll learn today what that stands for and a whole lot more. C.J.'s first career was as a professional baseball player, drafted twice by the Chicago Cubs organization. He’s also the co-owner of Diamond Directors Player Development and has built a reputation as one of the leading professional hitting instructors in the country. C.J. is also the author of the book Living to Lead: A Story of Passion, Purpose, and Grit.
Mark Graban:
It’s available now at Amazon and other booksellers. So, C.J., thanks for joining us. How are you?
C.J. Stewart:
I'm great. It is a pleasure to be here with you.
Mark Graban:
Yeah, well, I’m really excited to have you here. Looking forward to talking both about some lessons you learned playing baseball at a really high level and the work that you’re doing with kids. But, you know, as always, we’re going to jump into the key question at hand. C.J., what would you say is your favorite mistake?
C.J. Stewart:
Well, first, I am in a season right now where I have done several podcasts and I’m even at a place now where I’m just declining opportunities to do them because I kind of get asked the same questions over and over. And it’s, you know, I don’t know—it just hasn’t been as fun. But your show in particular stood out, and I’m excited about it. Talking about my favorite mistake really forced me to put some thought into it—mainly because—I’ll just kind of go quickly, high level—a mistake is something that we do out of ignorance while trying to achieve a goal and have success.
C.J. Stewart:
So, mistakes are about ignorance. The opposite of that is stupidity. Stupidity is knowing the right thing to do and not doing it.
Mark Graban:
Yeah.
C.J. Stewart:
So when I was thinking about that question, I was like, you know, I know a lot of stupid things that I’ve done—and I have some good ones and some not-so-good ones, stupid stuff. But then a mistake, where it’s just like, man, like a true mistake—where I’ve done something out of ignorance while trying to achieve a goal. And that—my favorite mistake—is becoming an avid runner.
C.J. Stewart:
I run, you know, around four major races per year here in the Atlanta area. I’ve yet to travel outside of Atlanta to run, but I do plan on doing that. I’m 48 years old as of today in November 2024. And by 50, I think I am going to try to run my very first marathon.
C.J. Stewart:
I’ll do my first half marathon on Thanksgiving of 2024. But I got into it because of paying homage to the killing of Ahmaud Arbery in Brunswick, Georgia, in 2020. And so now, just that one race—paying homage and honor to him—now I’m like a real-deal runner.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. So, in what way would you say that was a mistake then? Because it sounds like you haven’t given up on running.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, well, it started out just as a mistake, but now it is definitely something that is significant for me. And so, you know, even when I go back to stupidity—stupidity is knowing the right thing to do but not doing it, right? And then the steps after stupidity is struggle.
C.J. Stewart:
Struggle is making mistakes out of ignorance while trying to be successful. And then success is the achievement of a goal. And then significance is using your success to serve others. And so that struggle really, actually—if I don’t run, because of what it has done for me mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually—if I don’t run, then I’m stupid. Because it’s what I need to do to take care of myself. But now through running, I have met so many different people of varying races, socioeconomic backgrounds, religions…
C.J. Stewart:
…I actually see older people in a different light. Because also, too, like when I run, a lot of times I’m not the fastest runner, but I end up competing against older people—and oftentimes older women—and these women are out here booking it!
Mark Graban:
Yeah.
C.J. Stewart:
But if I just regularly see them, you know, in the grocery store or somewhere, I might make assumptions about them—that they aren’t very athletic—and many of them are beating me. So it’s really opened up my eyes. And also, the conversations that I get a chance to have—I use my running experience.
And I’ll just say lastly, you know, running a race is very much like racism. I believe that when we start thinking about racism, before it’s about people, it’s about power. It’s about influence, it’s about affluence. It’s about a starting line and a finish line.
And so, you know, African Americans in this country are losing most, if not all races, as we can think about—whether it’s healthcare, education, economics. But to win these races—for me as a runner—I have to train. I have to have great resources, the right equipment, the right shoes for the right track.
And so even with the program we have with LEAD Center for Youth, we are helping children win these races. And understanding that white people and white supremacy are two totally different things. We make sure our kids don’t go through life hating white people. But it is logical to hate anything that’s focused on the supremacy of one at the detriment of others.
Mark Graban:
Yeah, and back to mistakes versus stupidity—out of ignorance. That’s a word that sounds so negative, but I’m trying to remember back to when I played baseball. If you think a curveball’s coming and it turns out to be a fastball, that’s a mistake—a mental mistake. Or you didn’t pick up the pitch. It’s just… Or when you start a company that you think is going to be successful and it doesn’t pan out, that’s a mistake.
That ignorance, I think, isn’t so negative as it might sound. There are certain things we don’t know. We’re making our best prediction of what’s going to happen, and if it doesn’t pan out, that’s a mistake. That’s kind of how you’re framing it, right?
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, absolutely. It’s the not knowing. But again, even using your example of, you know, the pitch and not knowing, we also need to make sure that we are well-coached so that we can have a very educated guess.
Even now in baseball, with the analytics, you can pick up so many patterns to really understand that this is going to be the third pitch—and that third pitch happens to be a curveball that you don’t hit very well. And you hit the fastball better. So you need not take the first pitch down the middle. You need not foul off the second pitch, which is also a fastball, and foul it off—to now get the curveball and then roll over and hit a ground ball.
But I would say even like in business as well, too, you have to do some forecasting.
Mark Graban:
Sure.
C.J. Stewart:
And so that way, you’re removing yourself from making mistakes out of ignorance—and also from doing stupid things that can be detrimental.
Mark Graban:
Yeah, I mean, I think in business or in other settings, we can do our best to research, forecast, do some studies—make sure we’re not just taking a wild swing, but that it’s sort of an intelligent guess. And it still might turn out to be wrong, as opposed to something that might be stupid. Let’s say somebody has trouble controlling their emotions and they’re upset at a client and they yell and scream at them, curse at them—they’re probably, on a lot of levels, aware that that’s the wrong thing to do. Doing it anyway would be, I guess, stupidity, right?
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, absolutely. I mean, and so, yeah, that would be stupid. And also too, it’s even further stupid if you’re not emotionally in a place to actually be at work—and you don’t just take the day off. It’s also one of the things, even for me—emotionally—when I show up places and I’m not 100%, I usually start by setting that context. Like, on a scale of 1 to 10, I’m a 6 today. Here’s what I’ve got going on.
I mean, I set the context. Even when we started this podcast—I’m saying no to a lot of them—but I said yes to yours. So if I was on a podcast right now other than yours, I would not be full of energy. And I would have to tell that person, because I’m tired of doing these same old podcasts. So the answer is no.
But then, even as I think now, there are some questions that you could probably ask me. If it’s questions about racism, athletics, so on and so forth—that’s definitely in my wheelhouse. If you ask me a question about the stock market, that’s not. But then even if I start to try to go down that rabbit hole, answering questions that I don’t know the answers to—that’s not a mistake. If I say the wrong thing, it’s stupid, because I don’t know and I don’t care.
Mark Graban:
Yeah, and I’m not going to be asking you about that.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But back to the more serious subject you brought up—the murder of Ahmaud Arbery, a Black man out jogging and murdered by two white men, convicted.
Mark Graban:
I mean, stupidity—I can’t… I mean, taking the law into your own hands and shooting somebody is something that you’d like to think people know is wrong.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah. And it was a third person who actually recorded it. And so he’s also incarcerated.
Mark Graban:
Oh, that’s right.
C.J. Stewart:
So, you know, essentially, he was killed by three people. And so, you know, they—I don’t know if they used the word themselves, “mistake”—but it definitely was framed as being self-defense. And they tried to say all these other things, and so on and so forth.
And again, that’s why the distinction between mistake and stupidity is so important—because there’s a level of mercy and grace that does need to be offered to people who are making mistakes, versus people who are stupid.
C.J. Stewart:
Now, if Ahmaud Arbery had broken into their house, and—well, no, that’s not good. All right, if I have a weapon and I have somebody in my house and I start to discharge my weapon and—out of mistake—not knowing, I don’t know who it is, I’m just assuming it’s somebody bad, and I subsequently harm a family member, I would have a defense. I’m in my home, I have a weapon, I hear somebody—I made a mistake and shot them.
Mark Graban:
Out of ignorance of who was there.
C.J. Stewart:
Out of ignorance. I just—I don’t know. But some people will go so far as to actually stage the killing of people under the guise of, “I was ignorant, I didn’t know.” And so then you’ve got to go through a whole court proceeding. But the bottom line is, there’s a difference between “I made a mistake” and “I was stupid.”
Mark Graban:
Yeah. I mean, let’s say those guys saw Ahmaud jogging and went up and said something and accused him of being a robber—that’s a mistake. That’s ignorance. They didn’t know. Their assumption very well could have been driven by racism. But then life goes on. But then, you know, this idea of taking the law into your own hands and shooting somebody seems to go beyond the pale. That’s not a mistake to forgive. That’s a criminal act.
Mark Graban:
It’s stupid. You should have known better—to act on whatever bad… I mean, it’s just—it’s stupid. It wasn’t even a bad assumption to think, “Oh, we can shoot somebody.” Like, no.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah. And then the consequences should be accordingly, again based on whether or not it was a mistake or whether it was stupid. And, you know, again, as I think about the mistake of me becoming an avid runner—because I wasn’t planning on becoming an avid runner—but now that I have become one, short of me physically not being able to do it…
C.J. Stewart:
I’ve had a lot of gains. I’ve gone from a triple extra-large shirt to now I wear a large shirt.
Mark Graban:
That’s a big difference.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah. My mood is a lot better. The only thing that’s not getting better is my hairline—it’s still not coming back. But everything else is just so much better.
C.J. Stewart:
And so if I stop doing these things—in fact, there are lots of mornings where I don’t want to go run, or it may be raining outside, or my body’s a little tight—but I think about these races that I have coming up, and I’ve got to run them. Because when I’m in them, I’m running a 13.1-mile half marathon. I’ve got to be able to push through. And what I’m addicted to now is not just the training, but also the feeling of pride when my family sees me crossing the finish line.
C.J. Stewart:
I’m addicted to that. I absolutely love it. The Atlanta Track Club also has really cool medals. And I also want to be able to do a marathon and travel. I mean, I’ve got some different countries I want to go to and take my family with me and just feel special.
C.J. Stewart:
I want to feel special. And I want to do tough things. And I want to train for it.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. So maybe, you know, transition and talk a little bit about your baseball aspirations and your baseball career. I know from reading your bio that at some point you decided that wasn’t really the right path for you. I don’t know if you feel like that was a mistake to have pursued professional baseball, or if it might have been a mistake to stick with it any longer.
C.J. Stewart:
So it wasn’t a mistake to get connected to it, but it definitely would have been a mistake to keep trying to pursue it. Because ultimately, what I now know is my calling—for me to be significant—is to serve millions, beginning with my wife, Kelly, and then our daughters, Mackenzie and McKenna.
And then my vehicle for doing that is through coaching, which is my earthly talent. My spiritual gifts are discernment, leadership, and hospitality. And so I get a chance to live life on purpose.
But it all started in 1984. I was eight years old, born in 1976 in the inner city of Atlanta. And “inner city” just basically meant you were Black and you were poor if you lived there. Now, we had white people in the late ’70s and even beyond that who worked in the inner city. And actually, we had white people that lived in the inner city as well, too.
But white flight—because of the integration of schools—caused white flight across the country. And so when I say I was born and raised in the inner city of Atlanta, that meant that I was Black and I was poor. That’s where I was relegated to.
So much so that even today, in 2024, four out of five Black children in the city of Atlanta are living in concentrated poverty. And so in ’84, I remember—it was hot in Atlanta—and my granddad would, in the daytime, be watching Chicago Cubs baseball games. Later that night, my grandmother would watch the Braves games. And in between, we would watch the news and all that stuff.
But I would watch those games. Wrigley Field had ivy on the wall, which I thought was kudzu—because my grandparents had kudzu in their yard. So it looked the same to me.
So I made, in my mind, my grandparents’ backyard into Wrigley Field. I would get rocks and a stick, throw them up in the air, and hit them. And my favorite player was Gary Matthews Sr.—The Sarge.
And so my aunt told my parents that every summer, when I was over there, I was always hitting these rocks, and they needed to get me on an organized team. I got on an organized team at Cascade Youth Organization, which was in southwest Atlanta. I grew up in northwest Atlanta, which was Black and poor for the most part. Southwest Atlanta was more Black and middle class.
So a lot of civil rights leaders lived there. Hank Aaron. The late wife of Dr. King, Coretta Scott King. Ralph David Abernathy. All of these people that I was studying about in school would be at the field, at my games, watching hundreds of Black kids play baseball.
So it was just a great place. I mean, it was community.
C.J. Stewart:
Even up until that point—up until about 16 years old, when I started playing travel ball—I’d say probably about 16—I had not been in the presence of more than 10 white people in my life. Being Black in the city of Atlanta, there was no reason, no context for that to happen.
But travel ball opened up the opportunity. I had my first workout with the Chicago Cubs at 14. My mentor, the late T.J. Wilson, was an Atlanta Police Department officer, and he arranged that workout. Denny Pritchett was my first hitting coach, and Preston Douglas was my first Cubs scout. I worked out with them for four years, was drafted out of high school by the Cubs, went to Georgia State University, and then was drafted again by the Cubs and played in the organization.
It was a great experience. I had a lot of technical things going for me—my height, my speed, my arm—all those technical tools. But I lacked a lot of the tactical things like core values: humility, integrity, loyalty. I lacked social-emotional learning strengths: social skills, self-management.
It got to a point where mentally I wasn’t strong enough to keep going. My body was working, but emotionally and mentally I wasn’t.
So all of those things I struggled with and lacked—I became a coach to make sure that boys in general, and Black boys specifically, had the things that I did not have. And to date, we’ve had over 40 young men that we worked with as teenagers who have become Major Leaguers through our for-profit business, Diamond Directors.
So it definitely would’ve been stupid for me to keep trying to play when I was so far behind tactically.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. Thank you for sharing that. I mean, it’s a tough road. The percentage of players in the minor leagues who get drafted and then make it all the way to the top—it’s a funnel that narrows quickly. And I’m glad you found your true calling—whether it’s coaching hitting or coaching children.
So I’d love to talk about the LEAD program. First off, as an acronym—L.E.A.D.—tell us what that stands for.
C.J. Stewart:
LEAD stands for Launch, Expose, Advise, and Direct. Our mission is to empower the next generation to lead and transform their city of Atlanta.
We use the methodology of sports-based youth development to help Black youth—girls use tennis, boys use baseball—to help them overcome the three curveballs that threaten their success: crime, poverty, and racism.
It was established in 2007 because one of my white clients, Stan Conway—a very wealthy white man in real estate development—I was training his middle school-aged son, Davis. And Stan challenged me. He said, “There’s this constant decline of Blacks in baseball—and you’re not doing anything about it.”
I felt convicted—which is not the same as feeling guilty. If I’d felt guilty, I would have been paralyzed and done nothing. But the conviction was empowering. I had a sense of responsibility. And his financial support gave us some authority and capacity to get things done.
We have year-round programming. We’ve served over 5,500 students since 2007. Right now, we serve pretty close to 250 per year, partnering with Atlanta Public Schools for year-round in-school and after-school programs. And we’ve had over $15 million in investments over 17 years.
Financially and with time, we’ve proven that Black boys do want to play baseball. Our tennis program is very new—it started in 2023.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. I saw a recent article about Mookie Betts talking about his experience as a Black man in Major League Baseball and how he still sometimes gets overlooked. What’s your take on that?
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, that article just came out. One of the things I called out on social media was—prejudice is a reason. It’s a tough pill for people to swallow calling it racism. But when there’s disenfranchisement or marginalization based on race—that’s racism.
Now, MLB doesn’t have any explicit policies preventing Black players from succeeding. But as a Black man on the ground level, I know for a fact there are tens of thousands of kids who want to play this game. And if you look across the country, that’s hundreds of thousands of kids with the ability to play.
But the structure that exists—white owners, white executives, white scouts, white managers—there’s a prejudice toward people that are similar and familiar. And there’s rhetoric out there that’s negative about Black boys in baseball.
If you’re going to say that the reason Black kids don’t play baseball is because they don’t have fathers, or they don’t have baseballs—that’s ridiculous.
Baseball was invented in 1845 in New York. The Emancipation Proclamation was in 1863. Juneteenth was 1865. African Americans were playing baseball while enslaved.
In 1884, Moses Fleetwood Walker became the first Black man to play Major League Baseball. Cap Anson, arguably the best player in the league, basically created a handshake agreement to exclude Black players—because he was racist and didn’t like Moses.
The Negro Leagues, founded in 1920, barnstormed and brought baseball to Canada, to Japan—that’s Shohei Ohtani—and to Latin America.
So the game wouldn’t even be played in those places if not for the Negro Leagues. And now we want to say Black kids don’t want to play?
If they don’t, it’s because something systemic is keeping them out.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. I mean, I’ve been a huge baseball fan my whole life. I’m 51 years old—you mentioned 1984. For me, that was the Detroit Tigers winning the World Series when I was a kid, which was very exciting in the Detroit area. Same dynamics, like you mentioned—white flight and this segregation of very white suburbs and a city that was becoming increasingly Black as the white flight continued.
I think of these trends and the numbers that show that, in the modern era, we’ve got historically low percentages of Black players. But then the other thing I can’t help but notice—compared to back in the day—very few Black catchers, fewer Black pitchers than there were. And I think it begs the question: is there some racism that still exists?
I think of the awful things Al Campanis said back in the late ’80s—early ’90s maybe—when he was general manager of the Dodgers. He disparaged Black people, saying they weren’t capable of being managers, which is stupidity. It’s racism. It’s nonsense.
You know, the NFL had a problem for the longest time—thinking Black men couldn’t play quarterback. That’s changed. But in baseball… what are your thoughts? Do you think Black players get steered to certain positions because of “athleticism”? Or racism? Or all of the above?
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah. Again, just using these words—racism and athleticism. Racism, before it’s about people, it’s about power. It’s about influence. It’s about affluence. It’s about financial capital and social capital. That’s racism.
Athleticism, for me, is someone who’s able to get things done even when they don’t fundamentally know how to do it. That speaks to physical and mental prowess. So rather than someone being called athletic and it being a four-letter word—equivalent to the other bad four-letter words out there—I let kids understand that that is high praise.
When somebody calls you athletic, it means that even when you don’t fundamentally know how to hit this pitch or throw this pitch, you’re still able to figure it out and make it happen. So it’s a word of endearment. However, it’s something that has been looked at as negative when attached to our boys.
And so—he who owns the definition owns the movement. I don’t own a team. I don’t have the power to draft players. But as someone established in player development, I lead with the definition I give.
I do think the catching position specifically is very much like a quarterback. You are the leader on the field. And from a race standpoint—just like the quarterback position—to give up a position like catcher and suddenly have an influx of Black players, that’s going to upset a lot of people.
Baseball is America’s pastime. It’s indicative of America. And if you start putting Black men in positions of power, that’s definitely going to upset people.
I’ve been around. Right now I coach kids who have the potential to be great catchers—Black kids. I’ve had a ton of white kids who had potential and became Major League catchers.
What Black kids need more than good coaching is good advocacy. They need someone who will go before them and protect them. That’s what I commit to doing. At LEAD, protection means making sure you get the benefit of the doubt, respect, and trust.
If you’re on track to becoming a catcher and then you get moved to first base—my job is to help make sure that move happened because it’s where you’re best used, not because you’re Black.
We don’t need more good coaching. We need Black people—and people in general—but Black men specifically—in positions where they can make sure our boys get a fair shot and are known for doing so.
When I walk into the room, I want people to know CJ is going to come in focused on fairness—not the latest hitting technique.
Same thing with pitchers. What happens on the ground level—whether in poverty-stricken Black communities or in the suburbs—is that kids want to know they have a shot.
But I also don’t want change to happen solely because white men say, “Now it’s time for Black kids to catch or pitch.” That change will have to involve white men, but I want to be on record as a Black man—also working with white men—who’s ensuring our Black boys receive permission to be great.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. I just did a quick search. There are ripple effects that go through catching. I don’t know the exact percentage, but a high percentage of Major League managers were former catchers.
Because, like you said, the catcher understands pitching, hitting, field leadership. A lot of them become managers. And as of early 2024, there were only two Black managers in Major League Baseball—and only one Black general manager.
And if we go up the chain to team presidents… I know in the NFL, Jason Wright—he’s a fellow Northwestern graduate—I remember watching him play. He’s now president of the Washington Commanders. Different sport, but it’s still relevant.
Coming back to baseball, those opportunities are few and far between. Something’s got to help change that pipeline. Would you agree? What else needs to be done?
C.J. Stewart:
What needs to be done is words. Your show is My Favorite Mistake. And we’re talking about the difference between mistakes and stupidity.
It’s either racism or prejudice. Prejudice probably feels better, but we’ve got to start with conviction—naming things for what they are.
Because what’s stupid is trying to spend money to change the problem when it’s a matter of politics and positioning. A lot of the efforts in baseball right now are public relations and development. If you wanted your podcast to be the number one podcast in the world, that’s a problem that can be solved with money—but there’s also politics and positioning required, so that money and time aren’t wasted.
People talk about financial cost, which is stupid. Like, Black people don’t have money? That’s just not true.
C.J. Stewart:
If you look at how much money poor people spend—of all races—people receiving subsidies still spend money, and a lot of it. Probably more than wealthy people, in some cases.
So to say Black people don’t have money is just stupid. But then we also have to look at the emotional cost—of being Black and playing baseball, of being Black and trying to start a podcast, or a business, or becoming a chef, or a doctor, or President of the United States. All of these things take emotional effort and toll.
Even the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has identified racism as a mental health issue.
I didn’t become “openly Black” until 2015. I had been code-switching and trying to act white for so many years. It’s tiring. Before going into a meeting, I’d have to think: Here’s how I talk, here’s how I act. Then in the meeting, I have to talk differently. And after the meeting, I have to switch back. You go through a whole day like that, it’s hard to even know who you are.
Now, I wear what I wear. I talk how I talk. This is me. And it would be stupid for me to put myself in places where I can’t be myself.
So there are places I don’t go today because I can’t be me. And there are people who don’t ask me to be on their podcast because I am who I am. But I have a level of freedom now that is going to let me live a longer and more fulfilling life.
You’ve got a lot of Black boys—say five years old—who are watching TV and see Mookie Betts. “That’s what I want to be.” Then they get older, they’re 14, and they’re on a team where they’re the only Black player. Maybe they’re competing with a teammate for the same position, and that white teammate calls them the N-word.
Until that point, they’d never been called that. And the parents are trying to help, but maybe they don’t want to call out the coach because they’re afraid their kid will lose his spot. If he loses his spot, he might not get a college scholarship or get drafted.
So the kid is learning how to deal with being mistreated to accomplish a goal. Then maybe he makes it to the majors—and he’s still being called the N-word. And he keeps his head down. Then he teaches his child to do the same.
And then someone like me calls it out—and I look like the bad guy—because the other Black guy didn’t call it out.
So if we want change, we have to have conversations about racism and prejudice.
Mark Graban:
Yeah. And it’s difficult, but… it’s either a mistake not to have those conversations—or it’s stupid. I don’t know. Where do you land on that?
C.J. Stewart:
It’s stupid.
Like, if I’m having chest pains and they’re getting worse—and I don’t go to the hospital—that’s stupid. I actually had a colonoscopy for the first time this year. One reason I didn’t want to get it was because I was scared to find out I had cancer.
Thankfully, I’m healthy. But I was afraid of dealing with the facts. That fear kept me from acting.
So it would’ve been stupid for me to not get the colonoscopy. If I didn’t get it and ended up dying from a preventable form of cancer—I would’ve died stupid.
Mark Graban:
Yeah.
C.J. Stewart:
So with MLB—if Black people have played this game since its beginnings, and we know how much Black consumers spend, and we know there’s a financial benefit to having Black people in the game—and we keep seeing a decline, while spending more money to fix it?
That’s unacceptable. MLB teams don’t spend more money on something and then tolerate declining results.
Mark Graban:
I mean, it seems like MLB at least touts that they have programs to get Black kids and underserved kids into the game. Are those token efforts? Are they ineffective? Do they need new approaches?
C.J. Stewart:
They have great programs. The issue is not the programs—it’s the advocacy.
Because once Black players get into the system, they show up giving 150%—which is stupid. You can only give 100. They're doing way more than they need to, wasting mental, emotional, and physical energy—and still not getting drafted. Still not getting college scholarships.
And then people in the community see all that work and think, “It didn’t work.” And then kids start to avoid coaches like me—not because we’re not qualified—but because we’re Black.
I’ve had kids who would rather go outside their community and be coached by a white man—because they believe he can advocate for them better. And I know that’s true because I did the same thing growing up.
I avoided Black coaches because I didn’t think they had the power to advocate for me. That becomes a cycle.
But one solution is to name the problem: racism.
Mark Graban:
Yeah.
C.J. Stewart:
And/or prejudice. And, well, if you do it in baseball—baseball is a microcosm of the world. If we were having a public health crisis like COVID-19, you wouldn’t solve it by saying, “It’ll just go away.”
You have to name it. You have to define the problem. You have to recognize that it exists.
You can’t say, “There’s a problem,” and then not take action. And that’s what we’re doing in baseball—we’re not naming the problem. It’s not just a matter of development. It’s racism. It’s prejudice.
A success story is Tim Corbin—he’s the head coach at Vanderbilt University and a friend of mine. He has several African American players who commit to play for him. And he says publicly, “Come here, I’ll protect you. I’ll make you better.”
The number-one player in the 2027 class—Keon Johnson, out of Macon, Georgia—just committed to Vanderbilt, passing on other schools. He knows Coach Corbin, as a white man, will do more than just coach—he’ll protect.
Mark Graban:
That’s great to hear. And CJ, thank you for sharing your stories, your experiences, and your insights on these important topics. Thank you for your advocacy and everything you’re doing to help kids and to help others in other communities help kids.
Again, our guest today, C.J. Stewart. I’ll make sure there are links in the show notes to his website, to his organization, to his book. Again, the book is titled Living to Lead: A Story of Passion, Purpose, and Grit.
CJ, I hope you would agree here after about 45 minutes that it was neither a mistake nor stupid to come on here and have the conversation today.
C.J. Stewart:
Yeah, it wasn’t. This was absolutely great. And I also have a blog I’m going to finalize, because this was the first time I’ve been on a podcast and had to get my thoughts together. And as I was doing that, I said, “I might as well write a blog about this.” I’ll share that with you.
Mark Graban:
OK, we’ll make sure that’s in the show notes as well. CJ, thank you again. Certainly from my side—not a mistake to have you here. I’m glad you joined us. Thanks again.
C.J. Stewart:
My pleasure. Thank you.