Hi, my name is Dave Slain, and I want to share my story. I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, and let me tell you—I was a shy kid. Really shy. On top of that, I was big. Not just tall, but big in every way. Most people probably thought being the biggest kid meant I didn’t have anything to worry about, that I could just breeze through life. But nothing could be further from the truth.

Being the biggest kid didn’t make me confident; it made me feel even more out of place. I was awkward, quiet, and honestly, I struggled in school. Mostly C’s and D’s. My teachers probably thought I was just daydreaming all the time because my mind always wandered. I didn’t pay attention the way I should, and every low grade only made me feel worse. I started to think,

Maybe I really am just dumb.

Then, something surprising happened: I decided to try out for the 5th-grade basketball team. I wasn’t any good, but I had height, so my coach saw potential. He was tough on me—no breaks, no special treatment. And while it wasn’t always fun, it made me fall in love with the game. Basketball became my safe place, my one bit of confidence. But around the same time, my grades got worse. My parents brought me to see a counselor. She tested me, but what she said after stuck with me more than any test score ever could. She looked at my parents, right in front of me, and said, “You need to adjust your expectations. For him, a C is like an A. That’s just what he’s capable of.” I remember the words sinking into me like stones. So, it’s true then—I’m

stupid. That feeling was one of the worst I’d ever felt.

My parents, though, they were my rock. They always told me I could achieve anything I wanted, no matter what. Even when I didn’t believe it myself, they did. Looking back now, I know how lucky I was to have that support. A while later, I was at the park playing with a friend, when out of nowhere, his mom drove up, stormed over, and started yelling at me. “Why are you playing with my son? You’re too old to be playing here!” She was convinced I didn’t belong there. I tried to tell her we were the same age, but she just kept yelling. I left the park that day feeling crushed. Now, not only did I think I was dumb, but I felt like I didn’t even belong with my own friends.

Despite all of this, basketball was my lifeline. I loved it, but there was a catch: I needed at least a C average to stay on the team. A C! And here I was, the kid who was told he’d probably only ever get C’s and D’s. I had finally found something I loved, and now I was at risk of losing it. Something inside me clicked. Somehow, I pushed myself and went from a C and D student to a B student. I figured out how to study, how to focus. Maybe it was just growing up, or maybe I finally found my own way to learn, but I did it. And from then on, I pushed forward. I graduated high school and even college with a GPA over 3.5, all while playing basketball.

I still had a long way to go with confidence—it didn’t come overnight. But that journey, that slow climb, taught me that no matter what people say or assume about you, there’s something inside that only you can unlock. And once you start to believe in yourself, everything begins to change.