PHOTO: Stevland Polite, author and technologist, photographed in Central Harlem, showcasing a dynamic blend of wisdom, culture, and creativity.
Survival, Healing, And Thriving Amid Shadows Of Legacy
Stevland Polite explores his journey from East Harlem to global self-discovery, embracing healing, growth, and cultural preservation in his compelling memoir, Named After Legends.
Stevland Polite’s life unfolds as a rich tapestry of perseverance, introspection, and transformative growth. Born in the pulsating heart of East Harlem’s Lehman Village housing projects, amidst the challenges of environment and circumstance, his journey is nothing short of remarkable. What might have been a narrative confined to survival has instead blossomed into one of exploration, healing, and profound self-discovery. Stevland has emerged as a voice dedicated to honouring culture and advocating for the wellness of Black people across the diaspora, a commitment that reverberates through his actions and words.
His memoir, Named After Legends: Self Discovery Amid the Shadows of Giants, invites readers to walk beside him as he navigates the intricate cycle of survival, healing, and thriving. In every chapter, his resilience shines, underscored by a moral compass shaped by names imbued with legacy—Stevie Wonder, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X. These names are more than a tribute; they are guides that have helped shape his identity and his approach to the world. Whether recounting the streets of Harlem or the solemn serenity at Japanese shrines, Stevland’s words radiate a vulnerability and strength that feels as though each page carries the weight of life lived fully and authentically.
In embracing the duality of his analytical profession as Vice President of Technology at Morgan Stanley and his raw creative voice as a memoirist, Stevland exemplifies the power of balance. His writing, shaped by deep introspection and the lessons of therapy, fuses clarity with intuition, creating a narrative that feels disarmingly human. Readers will discover that beyond the pages, the ethos of Stevland’s work lies as much in the wisdom gleaned as in the challenges endured. When grace meets grit, when healing intertwines with ambition, stories like his are born—urgent, beautiful, and deeply necessary.
In Named After Legends: Self Discovery Amid the Shadows of Giants, how did growing up in East Harlem’s Lehman Village shape your cycle of “Survive, Heal, Thrive”?
Growing up in East Harlem, surviving the day was a feat. I was either dodging police, dodging gangs, or dodging drugs. And when this was the norm for almost everyone around you, survival mode was always on. My sense of thriving came from my dreams. And wanting desperately to escape and create a better life for myself. I didn’t factor in healing until recently. I didn’t know I had to heal. I had focused so much on the cycle of surviving and thriving, that there was no room for healing. It wasn’t until I had no other choice but to focus on healing that I realised that was the missing piece. And if I wanted to go any further in life, I needed to take some time to heal. But taking 2 years off to heal wasn’t sustainable. I realise if I bake healing into the cycle and make it a constant in my life, I’d be able to do anything.
Can you describe the emotional challenge of writing the letters to your late cousins, and how that process influenced the memoir’s narrative?
I knew I wanted to memorialise them with my words but I didn’t know how. I got the idea of writing a letter from James Baldwin’s ‘Letter to My Nephew’ in ‘The Fire Next Time”. And it was the hardest part of the book to write. It took the longest and was the last thing I finished. Everytime I would go back to it, I got emotionally overwhelmed. I wanted to make sure I did it justice, but the difficulty in finding the words seemed insurmountable. At one point I knew I was dragging it out and I just had to toughen up and get it done. As far as its place in the memoir’s narrative, I wanted it to feel like a break from the rest of the memoir. I wanted it to feel like its own thing, but within the context of the memoir. It deserved that. And that meant I had to figure out the structure of where to place it in the book, which was influenced by the timeline of events.
How did being named after legends like Stevie Wonder, MLK Jr. and Malcolm X impact your sense of identity and responsibilities?
I’ve always been led by a moral compass. My identity and responsibilities were greatly impacted by that moral compass. And that moral compass was formed from the stories of the legends I’m named after. It helped me make decisions in every area of my life. From how I showed up for others, to how not engaging in violence, and making sure I spoke up for myself when necessary.
Your solo trips to Japanese shrines appear pivotal – what did those experiences teach you about healing and self discovery?
It was very pivotal for me. Making the decision to go on the trip after my cousin passed was one of the hardest decisions I had to make. But making it reinforced the need for me to do whatever I needed to make sure I’m good. And it was my biggest adventure. Being alone and halfway across the world allowed me space to grieve and find healing, while also simultaneously having fun. I found that all three could exist at the same time. And there was no right or wrong way to grieve. And for the first time, I was able to just feel free and do exactly what I wanted to do. With no one weighing in on the itinerary. I let my heart take the lead. I wanted to make sure I did what felt good to me. I wanted to be true to myself by creating the best experience for me. It opened up a level of self-discovery that I never felt before. Even in all my other travels. There was no agenda, no boundaries, no objections, no budget. Just pure intuition. And it reminded me that when I follow my intuition, the most amazing things tend to happen.
As a Vice President of Technology at Morgan Stanley and memoirist, how do you balance the analytical world of tech with vulnerability in writing?
You really have to be confident and sure of yourself to do either one. That’s what’s at my centre and it’s solid, so it allows for the pendulum to swing from analytical to creative vulnerability without feeling off balance. And they aid each other. Being vulnerable at work helps get my creative juices going, which allows me to analyse data in innovative ways that others may not be able to. I then turn data into a story which helps me get buy-in on solutions that I want to implement at work. And on the flip side, being a memoirist means I had to analyse my life. And I had to do so with an objective lens focussed on truth. I had to gather all the data and facts and create a story that would get readers to buy into me and my ideas on how to become your best self.
What insights did therapy bring to your writing process, and how did self therapy become a foundation for sharing your story?
Therapy was where I learned to question things. After every therapy session my therapist would leave me with a question to think about, and I took that work very seriously. I often spent whole weekends just reflecting and drawing mental maps about answers to those questions. And part of that work was being radically honest with myself. And I started writing everything down. Whenever a thought popped into my mind, I pulled out my notes app and just started to write it down. I allowed myself the freedom to write just for me with no agenda, no boundaries, no objections. Just pure intuition.
Your memoir emphasises a growth mindset – can you share a specific turning point where that mindset truly propelled you forward?
It began in High School when I realised how education could give me opportunities and put me in rooms I would never be in without it. And that not only continued in college, it multiplied tenfold. In the book I write about a defining moment as a freshman in college, when I was a finalist in a national marketing competition for Chevrolet. Being amongst the top 5 in the nation got me flown to their headquarters in Detroit, all expenses paid, where I pitched my ideas to Chevrolet’s marketing and advertising executives. I knew then that if I kept going, kept learning and growing that the possibilities would be endless.
What advice would you offer aspiring authors, particularly those drawing from personal trauma or cultural heritage, seeking to tell their own stories?
I think my main advice would be to practise radical honesty and ownership. Don’t worry about what others will think about your interpretation of events, tell your truth. That’s what will make it authentic and that’s what will resonate with readers. And when you face yourself and own your decisions, mistakes and all, you can create a truly well rounded experience for your readers.
