Lynette Sconyers

My name is Lynette Sconyers, and I was born in Houston, Texas, the youngest child of a remarkable woman who lived with cognitive challenges. My mother's name was Jimmie Marie, and my father's name was Lavance Hall. Both of my parents' early origins can be traced to Louisiana, connecting me to a family history rooted in the traditions, strength, resilience, and culture of the South.

I grew up alongside my siblings, Fleada, Sandra, Chedric, and Sylvia. There was a wide age range between us, and because of the circumstances of my childhood, our experiences growing up were very different. My siblings remained in Texas, while my life took me to Illinois at a young age.

At eight years old, I went to live with my grandparents, Ophelia and Fulton Johnson, in Illinois. This became one of the most significant turning points of my childhood. While my siblings continued their lives in Texas, I began a different chapter with my grandparents.

Being separated from my siblings at such a young age was a significant part of my childhood experience. It shaped my understanding of family, independence, belonging, and the many different ways that people can influence a child's life.

My father, Lavance Hall, influenced my life in a particularly tender way. He showed me kindness and gentleness, and most importantly, I knew that he loved me. That feeling of being loved left an impression on me that words cannot fully explain. In a childhood that involved different homes and caregivers, knowing that my father loved me became an important part of my emotional foundation.

One of the earliest influences in my life was my great-aunt, Violet Johnson. She introduced me to strict religious values at an early age. Through her, I learned about discipline, faith, responsibility, and the importance of having principles to guide your life.

My grandparents, Ophelia and Fulton Johnson, had perhaps the greatest influence on me during my most formative years. Their home in Illinois provided stability and structure at a time when I needed both.

My grandmother, Ophelia, was a strong and determined woman. She was extremely serious about education, etiquette, manners, and the importance of how you present yourself to the public. She taught me that how you carry yourself communicates something about who you are.

There were expectations in her household, and excuses were not easily accepted.

My grandfather, Fulton, gave me a different kind of education—what I sometimes think of as "real street life education." He was a hardworking man with multiple entrepreneurial skills. Through watching him, I learned about work, independence, resourcefulness, and the realities of making your way in the world.

His lessons were not always delivered in a classroom or through formal instruction. Many came simply from observing how he lived.

Together, my grandparents believed in a no-nonsense, no-excuses approach to life. They expected you to work, learn, conduct yourself properly, and take responsibility for your choices.

Both Ophelia and Fulton lived to be almost 100 years old. Their longevity was remarkable, but what stands out to me just as much was the wisdom they accumulated throughout their lives and their ability to remain mentally engaged and cognitively strong well into old age.

They represented generations of knowledge that could not be found in books alone.

Looking back, I realize that I was being educated in many different ways by many different people. My upbringing was not defined by one household or one influence. It was shaped by my parents, grandparents, great-aunt, siblings, and the many experiences that came with being raised by different people at different stages of my childhood.

My life has included many beautiful moments, but it has also included experiences that were painful and difficult. Some of those experiences began during my early childhood and left a lasting impact on me.

One of the experiences that affected me most deeply was watching my mother, Jimmie Marie, who had cognitive challenges, being mishandled. Even at a young age, I could sense that something was not right.

I did not always understand the circumstances or have the words to explain what I was witnessing, but I understood that someone I loved was vulnerable and needed protection.

Watching my mother experience situations in which she was not always treated with the care, dignity, or understanding she deserved stayed with me. Those memories became part of the way I viewed the world.

They taught me very early that people who are vulnerable can be placed in situations where they depend completely on others to make decisions, provide care, and protect their interests.

My own childhood also included experiences of abandonment, betrayal, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, and manipulation. These experiences affected the way I understood trust, relationships, love, and my own emotions.

As a child, I did not always have the words or understanding to explain what I was feeling. I simply knew that some experiences hurt deeply and that there were times when I felt vulnerable, confused, or alone.

As I grew older, I began to recognize a connection between what I had experienced and what I had witnessed with my mother.

I understood that vulnerability can take many forms. A person may be vulnerable because of age, disability, childhood, circumstances, emotional wounds, or simply because they have placed their trust in someone else.

That realization became a powerful part of my purpose.

I determined that I wanted to help people navigate their lives with someone they could trust with themselves.

I wanted people to have someone who would listen, advocate for them, respect their dignity, and help them make their way through situations that might otherwise leave them feeling powerless or alone.

I became particularly sensitive to people experiencing feelings of abandonment, betrayal, fear, shame, confusion, and emotional pain.

I understood that sometimes what a person needs most is someone who will listen without judgment, believe them, and help them understand that what happened to them does not determine their worth.

This is why protecting vulnerable people became more than an idea to me.

It became personal.

I want to help protect and advocate for elderly and vulnerable individuals, women, children, and people with intellectual or developmental disabilities.

I have a particular concern for those who may have difficulty protecting themselves, recognizing abuse or manipulation, communicating what is happening to them, or finding someone willing to stand beside them.

My mother's experience helped me understand the importance of having a trustworthy person in your corner. My own experiences taught me what it feels like when trust is broken.

Together, those lessons shaped something deep within me: the determination to become someone others can trust.

As I grew older, I discovered that my interests and talents could take me in many different directions.

I have always loved beauty, fashion, creativity, and the arts, and that passion led me to pursue an education in cosmetology.

I eventually became a cosmetologist and cosmetology instructor, allowing me not only to express my creativity but also to teach others what I had learned.

For me, beauty was never simply about outward appearance. It was also about confidence, self-expression, and helping people feel good about themselves.

Teaching gave me another opportunity to connect with people and share knowledge.

My professional journey eventually led me in another direction—into nursing.

I went on to become a registered nurse and later a nurse practitioner.

Healthcare opened an entirely new chapter of my life and allowed me to combine my love for helping people with education, advocacy, and service.

Throughout my healthcare career, I have been remarkably blessed to encounter seasoned nurses and physicians who became mentors to me.

They guided me, challenged me, taught me, and shared the wisdom they had gained through years of experience.

Their influence helped me understand that becoming a healthcare professional is not simply about acquiring credentials or learning clinical skills.

It is about learning how to treat people.

Those mentors helped me appreciate the importance of compassion, dignity, patience, listening, clinical judgment, and respect for every individual.

They showed me through their example that the person sitting in front of you is more than a diagnosis, a medical record, or a task that needs to be completed.

I carried those lessons with me as I continued to grow professionally.

My career eventually included serving as a nursing professor at Purdue University and working as a nursing consultant.

Each role gave me another opportunity to teach, guide, and influence others.

Becoming an educator was particularly meaningful because education has always been such an important part of my life.

I think about the lessons my grandmother, Ophelia, instilled in me about education and presenting yourself with confidence and purpose. I also think about my grandfather, Fulton, and the practical lessons he taught me about working hard, being resourceful, and understanding people.

In many ways, my professional life brought together lessons from every generation that influenced me.

My journey from cosmetology and the arts to nursing, advanced practice, teaching, and consulting may appear like several separate paths, but I see a common thread running through all of them: People.

Whether I was helping someone feel beautiful, teaching a student, caring for a patient, consulting with healthcare professionals, or advocating for someone who was vulnerable, I learned the same fundamental lesson: How we treat people matters.

My spiritual journey has always been an important part of who I am.

I have a deep interest in spiritual thought and the many ways people understand their relationship with God and the world around them.

Over the years, I have independently studied various religions, as well as receiving religious education through church school.

My curiosity has allowed me to explore different traditions and perspectives while continuing to develop and deepen my Christian faith.

For more than 20 years, I have been an ordained Christian minister.

I have been blessed with opportunities to serve through ministry, including ministry in my home church, The River Jordan Ministries.

Ministry has given me another avenue through which I can teach, encourage, counsel, serve, and walk alongside people through the different seasons of their lives.

I have also been honored with an honorary doctorate in religion, which I regard as part of the spiritual and educational journey I have pursued throughout my life.

My faith has taught me that spirituality should not exist only in words.

It should be demonstrated through how we treat people.

I believe I have a moral obligation to love, forgive, understand, advocate for the vulnerable, and protect those who may not be able to protect themselves.

These principles are deeply connected to my life experiences.

What I witnessed with my mother, what I experienced during my childhood, and what I have encountered throughout my professional life have reinforced my belief that every person deserves dignity, compassion, and respect.

I am married to Gerald Sconyers, and I am grateful for the family we have built together.

I have been blessed with ten wonderful children: Gerald Jr., Dion, Gabriel, Miguel, Brianna, Darryl, Dorein, Jalen, Jerelyn, and Malachi (the family dog).

Each of my children has brought something unique and special into my life.

They have helped me understand motherhood in different ways and have given me countless opportunities to learn, grow, laugh, love, and sometimes simply hold on to my faith.

My children are a significant part of my legacy.

When I think about the future, I think about what I have taught them, what they have taught me, and the example I hope to leave for them.

And then there are my grandchildren—the most beautiful grandchildren in the universe, at least according to their grandmother!

They bring another kind of joy into my life.

Watching another generation grow reminds me that the things we teach, the values we demonstrate, and the love we give can continue long after our own immediate experiences.

My family flavors my life in ways that are difficult to put into words.

They are part of my joy, my motivation, and my reason for wanting to leave something meaningful behind.

My youngest child, Jerelyn, has a story that will forever be a part of mine.

There was a time when Jerelyn was placed on the kidney transplant list, and our family was told that she might not live.

Those words are difficult for any parent to hear.

There is a particular kind of fear that comes when your child is seriously ill and you are faced with the possibility of losing them.

During that time, I experienced a level of vulnerability that changed me.

I understood more deeply what parents experience when their children are sick—the fear, uncertainty, helplessness, prayers, hope, and determination to keep believing even when circumstances seem overwhelming.

And yet, Jerelyn is still here!

Not only is she here, but she is very much alive and, as I like to say, "wreaking havoc on our world."

That expression carries humor, but underneath it is tremendous gratitude.

Every day with her is a reminder that life is precious and that sometimes the very person we feared we might lose becomes one of our greatest testimonies to perseverance and hope.

Jerelyn's experience expanded my understanding of families with sick children.

I had cared for patients professionally and had spent years learning about healthcare, but experiencing serious illness through the eyes of a mother is different.

It reaches a different place in your heart.

I learned that sometimes the person sitting beside the hospital bed needs care too.

Parents need someone who understands their fear. They need someone who can listen. They need someone who will not minimize what they are experiencing.

They need hope, compassion, information, and sometimes simply another person willing to stand beside them.

That experience deepened my desire to advocate for vulnerable people and their families.

My life has given me the opportunity to experience many different roles.

I know what it feels like to be a mother.

I know what it feels like to be a stepmother.

I know what it feels like to be a wife.

I know what it feels like to be a daughter and granddaughter.

I know what it feels like to be a healthcare professional, educator, minister, mentor, and advocate.

And I know what it feels like to be hurt and betrayed.

Each role has taught me something different about people and relationships.

Being a wife has taught me about partnership, patience, commitment, communication, forgiveness, and the reality that two people bring their own histories and experiences into a marriage.

Being a stepmother has taught me that love can take many forms and that family relationships require patience, understanding, boundaries, and grace.

Being a mother has taught me that your heart can live outside your body.

Your children can bring you extraordinary joy, but they can also introduce you to fears you never knew existed.

Being hurt and betrayed has taught me that love and trust are precious.

I have learned that forgiveness does not necessarily mean forgetting or pretending that something did not happen.

Sometimes forgiveness is about releasing yourself from the burden of carrying the pain forever while still learning the lessons the experience gave you.

These experiences have made me more compassionate toward other people because I understand that I am not the only person carrying complicated stories.

Everyone has a story.

Some stories are filled with joy. Some contain trauma. Some include illness, loss, betrayal, abandonment, disappointment, or unexpected miracles.

Most people carry a combination of all of these things.

My own life has taught me not to judge a person solely by what I see on the surface.

Community service has become another important expression of my values.

I volunteer with multiple organizations and participate in efforts designed to strengthen communities through education, collaboration, and the exchange of resources.

I believe communities become stronger when people stop asking only, "What do I have?" and begin asking, "What can I contribute?"

Through service, I have had opportunities to share knowledge, resources, mentorship, and practical assistance with people and organizations in need.

One organization that reflects this commitment is She Slays Giants.

Through this organization, we have worked to create opportunities and provide support to others.

Our efforts have included helping send students to school for EMT training, giving them an opportunity to develop skills that can become part of their own careers and their ability to serve others.

We have also donated services and resources and provided mentoring to local nurturing homes, homeless shelters, and various families.

For me, these efforts are not simply about giving something away.

They are about helping people gain access to education, resources, mentorship, encouragement, and relationships that can help them move forward.

When I look at the many chapters of my life, I see a common thread running through all of them.

I believe in love with action behind it.

I believe forgiveness can release people from carrying the weight of the past.

I believe understanding requires us to listen before we judge.

I believe vulnerable people deserve advocates.

I believe children deserve protection.

I believe elderly people deserve dignity.

I believe people with disabilities deserve respect, opportunity, and someone willing to stand beside them.

I believe women deserve to feel safe and empowered.

And I believe that education, mentorship, collaboration, and access to resources can change the trajectory of a person's life.

My faith has given me a foundation.

My family has given me love.

My mentors have given me wisdom.

My career has given me opportunities to serve.

My experiences have given me empathy.

All of these things have brought me to a place where I understand that my life is not only about what I have accomplished.

It is also about what I can contribute to the lives of others.

When I look back over my life, I see a journey that I could not have predicted when I was a little girl in Houston.

I see a young girl who left Texas at eight years old and began a new life in Illinois with her grandparents.

I see a child who learned discipline from her grandmother and practical life lessons from her grandfather.

I see a daughter who watched her vulnerable mother and developed an early understanding of the importance of protection and advocacy.

I see a young woman who discovered beauty, fashion, and the arts and became a cosmetologist and instructor.

I see a nurse, nurse practitioner, professor, consultant, mentor, and lifelong student.

I see a woman whose spiritual journey led her into more than two decades of Christian ministry.

I see a wife, mother, stepmother, grandmother, daughter, granddaughter, and friend.

I see someone who has experienced love, joy, pain, abandonment, betrayal, illness, forgiveness, and restoration.

And I see someone who has been given countless opportunities to serve.

My story is not perfect.

It is not supposed to be.

It is mine.

Every chapter—the beautiful ones and the painful ones—has contributed to the woman I am today.

I cannot change everything that happened in my past. I cannot go back and protect the little girl I once was or undo every difficult experience my family endured.

But I can carry the lessons forward.

I can choose to use my experiences to help someone else.

I can be a voice for people whose voices may be overlooked.

I can advocate for those who may struggle to advocate for themselves.

I can encourage families who are facing circumstances that frighten them.

I can mentor those who are trying to find their way.

I can teach.

I can serve.

I can love.

I can forgive.

I can protect.

And I can continue to learn.

I have been remarkably blessed by people who invested in me, mentors who guided me, family members who loved me, teachers who educated me, and opportunities that allowed me to serve.

Now I want to use what I have been given to help others.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson of my life: Our experiences may become part of our story, but they do not have to become the limits of our story.

My life has been shaped by faith, family, education, adversity, love, healthcare, ministry, motherhood, mentorship, and service.

And I believe my story is still being written.

There are still people to help.

There are still lives to touch.

There are still lessons to learn.

There are still giants to slay.

And there is still much more life to live.

This is my story.

This is my journey.

And this is only the beginning of the legacy I hope to leave behind.