This artist’s obsession? Surpassing every expectation

Editor's note: Bill "B.WELL" Weathers first told this story on stage at the Des Moines Storytellers Project's "Obsessions: Our unabashed passions, from relationships to hobbies — and everything in between." The Des Moines Storytellers Project is a series of storytelling events in which community members work with Register journalists to tell true, first-person stories live on stage. An edited version appears below.

What if I told you, you could have everything you ever wanted, but you’d have to sell a part ofyourself to get it?

Would you still go for it?

It’s cold outside. It’s a typical Saturday in January in the city of Des Moines. The wind chill makes it feel 20 degrees colder than it actually is. The previous night brought a slight layer of snow that barely covered the ground but stuck around enough that it left a mark. A snow plow passed me on Locust as I turned west bound and headed toward Wooly’s.

Typically, I’d be heading into bar back or occasionally bartending if the opportunity arose, but tonight is different.

Tonight, I'm walking into a sold-out show. One that I helped to orchestrate and pull off. The biggestevent of my life to this point. CultureCon, which was a first of its kind in the city. It offered theplatform to musicians, artists of different mediums, and other professionals to showcase theirtalents and work.

Learn more: See other stories, find Storytellers Project tickets to upcoming shows or learn how to tell your own

An event that’ll serve as a landmark for the rest of my life. A night that will change my lifeforever. The energy in the building is electric. It's packed. Shoulder-to-shoulder fans,friends and community members moved along the maze that was the venue. We had a marketin the back that was showcasing local artists, food vendors and more. There was a barber givinghaircuts and line-ups to my right, live painting and a few other attractions.

I shook up with a few familiar faces as I made my way backstage. I had never seen Wooly’s this full. Had worked sold-out events and got my a-- whooped, plenty of times, but tonight was different. Maybe it was because I felt like I contributed to the success and electricity that filled the space.

As I got backstage, I made my way toward the greenroom upstairs. Musicians, artistsand friends filled the space, so I didn’t have a chance to relax or settle in before myperformance, but who cares, we had a job to do! No time to sulk, we had to perform. At a veryhigh level at that.

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I had practiced for weeks on end with my band members, brought videographers to therehearsals to help document, sold over 250 tickets individually, and knew every one of my songslike the back of my hand. I was ready.

But something was missing. I felt a gaping hole that wasn’t going to be filled by success. By the crowd noise. By anything really. I was heartbroken.

Three weeks prior to the event the love of my life and I chose to head our separate ways. We had spent damn near four plus years together. Building memories, stories, a friendship, laughs and love together. Simultaneously growing our separate ways as well. I believe I was reluctant to realize the writing on the wall. I knew the day was coming, but chose ignorance as opposed to acceptance. I didn’t want to give up. I thought I could balance it all. Had it all. Lived in a house full of creatives. We built a studio that we recorded in daily. My love was there with me. It was too much to carry, but I swore I could do it. I was wrong, and it caught up to me.

We came from different worlds. She was born into war torn Bosnia in the early '90s. I had a fairly simple life growing up in Des Moines. She was forced to move to Germany by age 6 and then to America. Biggest move I had was from here to Vegas in 7th grade. Her values were based and rooted within her family, the ideals of a unit and love. That’s not to say that mine weren’t, they were just different.

I watched my mother bust her a-- for my entire life. Watched her put our family into a comfortable position financially, so we could live how we wanted and chose. Not only for our family, but for herself as well. She had something to prove. Predominately men would occupy the positions she was in, motivating her to prove that not only was she capable, but more suited for the positions.

But that came with a sacrifice. My mother was gone… a lot. I remember her being on work trips for days if not weeks at a time. When she was home, we went out to eat, spent quality time, watched "Law and Order: SVU," you know typically family bonding in the early 2000s.

But I watched her make an enormous sacrifice. She chose to dive into her career to help change the entire trajectory of our family. Put us in a better place. Give us all the things we could ever dream of, and it worked. Never had to miss a meal, wasn’t a jersey or pair of shoes I didn’t have on Christmas, vacations, aka mom's work trips, were always fun.

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But it showed me something. It showed me that you make a decision. You decide what’s important, and that’s where your time lies. I know she wanted to be at every taekwondo event, every basketball and football game, every band recital and parent teacher conference, but sometimes she couldn’t. Not because she didn’t want to, but because physics don’t allow you to be in two places at the same time. She made a decision to better our family, and with that, came sacrifice.

At an early age I knew I felt something. Wasn’t sure what it was, but I knew it was something. A calling maybe, an itch to explore. An intrigue to see what I hadn’t. A want for more, and more and more and more. Obsession some might say.

But I wasn’t sure of what was I obsessed with. Was it results, the success, the money, the power, the change, the good, the bad, the accolades, the status, the freedom, or was it the process? The process of all those things combined. I always felt like I had something to prove, and still do.

Growing up mixed brought about its own challenges. My mother is white and my father is Black, making me a little mixed kid looking for identity, a place of belonging and acceptance in an otherwise cold world. I have a lyric that reads, “too dark for the whites, but not Black enough for your race,” which encompasses how I felt for a majority of my life.

I knew the rules that I played under were different. Unless I told someone I was mixed, I knew what I looked like to the blind eye. A Black man. In America. And too many, that’s a threat. The same rules don’t apply to us. The mistakes, the mishaps and shortcomings, the excuses, the opportunities and chances are all under a microscope.

That same privilege, grace, understanding and room for error that’s given to white America, isn’t extended this way much. If we make a mistake, it is usually costly. If not our freedom, our life. I moved different. I drove different. I studied different. I excelled and thrived different because I knew that I had to.

You see, I notice the dynamic of this country. I study. Very well. I’m aware and understand at an extremely high level. The system in which we live in has been made to separate, destroy, anger and survive by any means necessary. Therefore, when an entity, individual or power becomes too big, he/she must be taken care of. All of my idols; Martin Luther King Jr., Huey P. Newton, Bungie Carter, Fred Hampton, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, 2pac Shakur, Christopher Wallace, and the late great Nipsey Hussle have all been silenced. And for what? Because they became too strong. Their voice was too powerful. They untied too many people to combat the evils that exist.

I believe that’s where my obsession lies. With a want to understand why. Why did this happen? How could this happen? Where would this be tolerated or allowed. When people were told they couldn’t go to their favorite bar or restaurant during COVID, people almost lost their minds. They posted it was an outrage, that their freedoms were being purged. Their First Amendment rights were in question. That they wouldn’t be told what they could or could not do.

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But imagine not being able to participate in a country you built. Imagine not being able to get a bank loan to build the home of your dreams, or start the company you’ve always wanted, because that particular firm doesn’t lend to colored people. Imagine the head start you would have with 256 years of free labor. Imagine the businesses, wealth and greed you’d have.

Imagine reading “whites only” or “coloreds in the back” for a majority of your life. What do you think that would do to your brain, your spirit, your heart and your conscious mind. Do you think it would damage it? Maybe hinder it? Maybe create a chip on your shoulder? Maybe you start to fit in where you can. Search for acceptance. Search for a love that doesn’t exist. A belonging you so badly want, may even need, but can’t find. What would you do?

What I’ve chose to do is live my truth. I chose to make my decision. I know I can’t balance it all. Have it all, but I will live out my mission, by any means necessary. Succeed, excel, thrive and master everything I put my mind and body toward. For those that sacrificed and came before me, to those with me now, to all sisters and brothers that are sure to follow. And you know, it may never be enough. No accolade will suffice, no trophy will tell me I’ve made it and no amount of money raised or sitting in my bank account will satisfy that need for more. That want for more.

Since that sold out show on that cold night of January 2019 I’ve come to realize my vision. I’ve sold out that same venue five more times. I was named the Outstanding Young Iowan. Got the Recent Alumni Humanitarian award by my alma mater, Simpson College. Won volunteer of the year and friend of education in 2020. Made the Des Moines Register’s 2021 People to Watch. Performed on the steps on the capitol in front of 50,000+ people for Yankee Doodle Pops behind the Des Moines Symphony. Helped lead numerous peaceful and well-organized rallies through the streets of Des Moines. Have raised over $250,000 for Des Moines Public Schools to help level the playing field between socioeconomic disparities in our city. I’ve been lucky enough to be named to the Business Record's Forty Under 40.

I found my mission. And one simple slip up, mishap or false step could take that away. So I’m obsessed with the details, the focus. The little things that nobody else can see. Cares to see. Has to see. I honed in on my vision. I’ve decided what I want from myself and my time on this planet and refuse to let anything compromise that. Because I chose to fight for something so much bigger than myself.

I believe balance, love and taking time for myself is necessary. But I'm not sure I get to do it all just yet.

No relationship, no doubt, no individual or unseen power will slow my will or offer enough to have me sacrifice my integrity, dignity and obsession with betterment, effort and want to see more, demand more, do more and become more.

ABOUT THE STORYTELLER: Local hip-hop artist, humanitarian and creator, Billy "B.WELL" Weathers, was named the Des Moines Education Association Volunteer of the Year in April 2020; American Civil Liberties Union of Iowa Iowan of the Year in July 2020; Des Moines Register “People to Watch in 2021” in January 2021; Simpson College Recent Alumni Humanitarian Award in November 2021; and Business Record 40 Under 40 Award in April 2022 for his work in founding a local nonprofit organization, the B.WELL Foundation, which strives to build stronger futures for youth and lift them to a place of prosperity.

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This article originally appeared on Des Moines Register: Iowan Billy Weathers has an obsession with surpassing expectations