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You Next: The Next You
You Next: The Next You
You Next: The Next You
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You Next: The Next You

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The Author writes about a young man who is a native to the culturally rich but mentally challenging City of New Orleans, LA.
Throughout his teenage and early adulthood he has always had a desire to be a successful entrepreneur.
The lack of knowledge and information on how to achieve such a thing was the root of most of his struggles and misfortunes. However, once he began to invest his time in educating himself on how to achieve his dreams, he began to see a dramatic change in his life.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateMay 17, 2013
ISBN9781626759909
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    Book preview

    You Next - Jaye Corley

    You

    Introduction

    I’ve always wanted to be where I am now in life.

    Not that I want to stay here, exactly where I am, but I am appreciative of where I am, and how long it took me to get here. I am at peace the majority of the time. I am free of the mediocre minimum-wage slave mentality. I am free from the concern of someone busting into my house looking for drugs. I used to worry about that because the people in my neighborhood recognized me as a drug dealer. I lived a great portion of my life as a street hustler. But now I am free from the thug mentality. I am no longer drawn to the thug actions that sent me to jail as a youth.

    I’ve always wanted to make a decent living doing something that I liked, and now I am. I wake up every day free from the stress of a boss who is only concerned with his job and the betterment of the company that he works for. I’m in a profession that will provide me with opportunities in any state or country that I decide to live in. And my work ethic keeps my clients happy and means I will always have as many clients as I can handle.

    I have been in a relationship for twelve years (six of them married) with a beautiful woman who I can communicate with on all levels. She doesn’t stress me out. Neither of us have children from previous relationships, so we are free from baby-momma or baby-daddy drama. My wife isn’t high maintenance, nor does she overspend. We are committed to the same financial goals. My wife is open to new things and is supportive of my ideas about business and the pleasures of life.

    So now, in my mid-thirties, I’ve made it past the immaturity of my teen-age years, and the searching for a career of my early twenties. I am set to start the next phase of my life. I want success as an entrepreneur. Now, I have some valuable resources. I have learned a lot from experiences in life and in business and I have the confidence to use these tools to the best of my ability. I keep a positive attitude, which is critical at the moments things aren’t going the way they were planned.

    This positive attitude is an asset that I didn’t have as a youth or in my early twenties. I often had a bad attitude, which worked for trying to survive in the street. But I was unhappy because of it and I often made those around me unhappy. Now, I am able to have conversations with people on just about any topic without the high probability that it will end up in conflict or confrontation. When I was younger, I didn’t like to lose an argument. Now, I can walk away.

    I now make people around me proud to know me and love me. My mother now has a son who she can brag about instead of a son who she can’t get rid of. She is always happy to see me. Once I surprised her on Mother’s Day. My wife and I were driving to our hometown to attend a high school graduation and it was conveniently on the day after Mother’s Day. When we got about twenty minutes away, my wife called my mother. They chatted, my wife not letting on where we were. Then, as we neared the house, I took the phone and asked my mother if she’d received the present I’d sent her. She said, No. So I suggested that she go out and check the mail box again. When she stepped out the door, I was pulling up to the house. Hello!

    I expected the hug and kiss, but not the crying. She was so happy to see me that she started crying, saying she’d dreamed of this. Unbeknownst to me, my pulling up to her house unexpectedly on Mother’s Day was a dream come true for her. That’s the kind son I want to be, the kind of person I want to be.

    On a recent visit, I gave my father a kiss on the cheek as I was leaving, something that I hadn’t done in years. My sister calls for advice, sometimes. She used to not want to hear my advice, about anything. My cousins look to me as a leader now, being the oldest of them. They trust me with their children.

    Before I became the person that I am now, I was the person that I talk about in this book. At one time I was trying to get to the next me, which is the person that I am now. I worked hard to get to this next me and I am so grateful that I did.

    But I am not done. I know that if I can get to where I am now, then I can get to the next person that I want to be, especially with the resources I have now as compared to what I had then. The next me is not about greed, it’s not about wanting things. I have a long-term vision of what I want my life to be. I plan it to be a long prosperous life.

    I have some living to do, as do my readers. I share these lessons on the subject of building yourself to become the person that you want to be and I share your desire to complete the journey. For me, these are lifelong practices that can be shared with generations to come.

    So this book is about concepts. Why? Situations change, but concepts remain the same. In other words, no matter who you are or what you are doing in your life, if you are indecisive, tend to procrastinate, and are full of self-doubt, then you don’t have the mindset to move forward and fulfill your goals. This is often because of fear. But you can build yourself a new mindset.

    Building yourself will always come with sacrifice. Changing the way you think, being open to new things, having more discipline, and making the most of your time is how you build yourself. It’s never easy in the beginning because you are used to doing things a certain way, but you can get used to doing things another way. The fact is, we see solutions to our problems all the time, but choose to search for an easier way, look for things to do that won’t require us to make any sacrifices. And that cannot be done.

    At some point, all of us desire some sort of change in our lives. This book was written especially to reach young men, because building and growing early in life is much better than doing it later. But any man or woman, any age, can benefit. Every man and woman wants the best for himself or herself, but the avenue they choose to get it is often a long and hard one. Don’t go down that road. Stop now! And make the decision to build your courage, build your confidence, build your desire for success, and in doing so you will build yourself.

    Chapter 1: Growing Up

    I grew up in Louisiana, in a two-parent household in a low-to-middle income neighborhood. It was a good neighborhood for the most part, because crime was minimal and to be honest, unnecessary. Ninety percent of the parents worked decent jobs and ninety percent of the kids were properly fed and clothed. Most of the kids went to good public schools, which means they were of some quality. At least until a kid got into a situation where they were transferred to a lower-quality school. I was one of those kids.

    My elementary school was located in the Lakeshore area, named after its prime location near Lake Pontchartrain. My school was clean and had nice classrooms. Every morning, I walked a sidewalk trail through grass and trees to school. There was a small beautiful lake across the street, and at one end of it were sailboats, seafood restaurants, and a few apartment and condo complexes. Further on were houses in the high hundred-thousand-dollar price range. There were grocery stores and gas stations.

    Along the lake, there was a recreation area about a mile long. There was a grassy area, which was popular on Sundays, and could accommodate a large number of people. It was furnished with a gazebo and concrete shelters that were used for family cook outs, the way some people hang out at Piedmont Park in Atlanta. This was known to most people in the city as the black side. I’m sure you know what the other side was known as.

    I had to travel only a short few blocks home from school every evening, through a safe neighborhood. My sister Kim and I walked home together, and at twelve years old I was responsible enough to see to it that we went straight home, went inside, and locked the door. Of course our parents called to check on us. And in a few hours, they were home from work.

    Life was simple. I was a kid, cute and then handsome, nice and respectful. I was just my parents’ son and my sister’s brother. I played Little League sports. I got a whipping or two, but I wasn’t any trouble. I was a cousin to play with, a brother to argue with, a grandson to sleep over.

    The only thing I worried about was five o’clock. Whatever I had going on needed to be over before five o’clock. Both of my parents got off at that time and as small as our city was, it didn’t take long before they made it home. If I let a friend in the house, they had better be going by five o’clock. If I had my school clothes on the floor and homework hadn’t been done, it’d better be changed before five o’clock. Once our parents got home and everything was okay, they’d let us go outside for an hour or so. Then they got to relax a little, and by dark we were both inside. When we were a bit younger, we went to my paternal grandparents’ house after school let out. My grandparents didn’t live far from us. It was the same neighborhood, but a different street.

    When I graduated sixth grade, I was enrolled in Andrew J. Bell junior high school. The school wasn’t anywhere near the lake. It was on the other side of town. And for three years — grades seven, eight, and nine — I rode a city bus across town to get there.

    The neighborhood where my new school was located was very different from mine. The houses in the neighborhood were not like the houses in my neighborhood. They were smaller, less attractive, and less inviting. Sometimes you couldn’t really tell if people lived in them or not.

    Looking back, this was a character-shaping experience. It was fun, it was dramatic, it was intriguing, and it was challenging. The biggest difference between my old school and my new school was the surroundings. Where I was once in a quite modern neighborhood, I was now in an edgy, be careful, watch-your-back type of neighborhood. There were corner stores on almost every block. The stores were small and many included a small deli. They sold po-boys, sandwiches on French bread dressed with lettuce, pickle, and tomato. Shrimp po-boys, ham and cheese po-boys, roast beef po-boys, hot sausage po-boys. They were good.

    Though the school was in a low-income neighborhood, it had some good teachers and staff members who genuinely cared about the students. The school also had some good students, and good programs. I was in the choir for about one semester, but hey, I couldn't really sing anyway.

    The other side of that picture was that many students weren’t interested in learning but were still young enough for their parents to force them go to school, so that’s what they did. And they brought something to school with them, something we can call life. When these students left school they did not go to a

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