Goalsetters Would Like To Introduce You To D. Lamar Handy!



There was a night when D. Lamar Handy sat alone and asked himself a question he had never said out loud before:

“What are you doing?”

The question did not come from a lack of compassion, nor did it come from a loss of belief in the mission of the DL Handy Foundation.

It emerged after months of uncertainty, repeated outreach for funding that did not always result in support, and the slow, demanding work of building trust within a community that has learned to be cautious.

On the surface, the foundation appeared to be growing. Events were being organized. Conversations around mental health were beginning to open.

Scholarships were being discussed. Yet beneath that visible progress was a quieter reality. Funding sources were not always predictable. Partnerships required persistence.

Community buy in required patience. The responsibility of carrying a vision forward often felt heavier than the applause that occasionally accompanied it.

That night, the question lingered longer than usual.

“What are you doing?”

It was not an accusation. It was exhaustion speaking. It was the honest reflection of a man who had invested time, energy, and personal resources into something that was still finding its footing.

Building a nonprofit from the ground up is rarely glamorous.

Lamar has spoken openly about the disappointment, confusion, and frustration that accompanied those early seasons.

There were moments when support did not match effort and when silence followed carefully crafted requests for collaboration.

He acknowledges that building trust within one’s own community can be one of the most difficult hurdles an organization faces, and he felt that tension deeply.

There were multiple times when stepping back seemed reasonable. He admits without hesitation that he considered slowing down.

The pressure was real, and the road often felt lonely. However, what ultimately stopped him from walking away was not public recognition or financial breakthrough.

It was the quiet conviction that even one or two people could benefit from the foundation’s existence.

Too many individuals struggle with mental illness in silence without clear direction. Too many families navigate crisis without knowing where to turn.

The DL Handy Foundation was built to close that gap by providing education, resources, and safe spaces for conversations that many communities avoid.

If even a small number of lives could be impacted, then the struggle to build it was justified.

The mission became even more personal when tragedy and illness touched his own family.

The loss of his cousin, Ashantye Williams, to suicide reshaped his understanding of urgency and legacy.

Around the same time, his younger cousin began battling leukemia, a fight that continues with courage and resilience.

Those experiences did not weaken his resolve; they intensified it.

When he reflects on that period, he describes a mixture of sadness, determination, thankfulness, and renewed motivation.

Life can change in an instant, and those moments reinforced his commitment to build something that would outlast temporary discouragement.

In honor of Ashantye’s brilliance and work ethic, he established a scholarship bearing her name so that her legacy would continue to impact future generations.

The night he questioned himself did not become the end of the story. It became the turning point.

Instead of allowing uncertainty to dictate the outcome, he chose to continue. He continued reaching out for partnerships.

He continued organizing conversations around mental health. He continued trusting that the right connections would align in time.

Slowly, encouragement began to meet endurance. Supporters emerged. Resources followed.

Panels were hosted across multiple cities. Funds were raised to support mental health initiatives and childhood cancer research.

Looking back, Lamar now sees that the question he asked himself was not a signal to quit, but an invitation to decide. He chose to build despite doubt.

He chose to persevere despite slow progress. He chose purpose over discouragement.

For anyone reading this who feels the weight of a mission that seems larger than the visible support around it, his message is grounded in lived experience.

He encourages them to keep going, even when results feel delayed and recognition feels distant.

Meaningful work rarely unfolds without resistance, and the presence of difficulty does not invalidate the calling.

The toughest battles, he has learned, are not given to the weak. They are entrusted to those strong enough to carry both responsibility and compassion.

On the night he sat alone with his question, D. Lamar Handy could have chosen retreat.

Instead, he chose resolve, and that decision continues to create impact far beyond what he could see in that quiet moment.