Community Vegan makes veganism accessible for all through familiar, savory bites

On the corner of East 11th and Lydia streets, the sweet aroma of Community Vegan’s savory bites draws onlookers and customers to the bustling food truck.

The micro-eatery has become a popular food spot in the East Austin Cultural District with dishes such as oyster mushroom wing baskets, beer-battered cauliflower chicken sandwiches, avocado bites and the truck's signature Vegan Lickin' Good Buckets.

Nearly every meal is crafted by co-owners and vegan cooks Marlon Rison and Ericka Dotson, who shape the restaurant’s flavorful dishes to satisfy cravings for nachos, chocolate milkshakes, southern fried chicken pieces and other popular items.

“It’s all about flavor, right? I know we’re bringing that to the block,” Rison said.

As the Community Vegan name spreads through the city's dining scene, Rison's face grows more familiar, too. Inspired by the logos of KFC, Wendys and other food chains, his radiant smile is at the center of the food truck's sign and its branded products. But beyond the logo, Rison's magnetic energy is the heart and soul of the East Austin operation that opened in September 2021. 

Along with its brunch and main menu items, Community Vegan also offers raw, wildcrafted sea moss packages from Dotson's company, Lott’s Herbs & Remedies; Dotson is a certified herbalist. Sea moss is a species of red algae that grows on coastlines across North America, the British Isles and continental Europe. Advocates say when it's consumed in supplement form, it can help improve heart and gut health and strengthen the immune system.

After seeing an advertisement for Community Vegan, North Austin resident Jai'Sun Alexander stopped by the food trailer in March and since has become a loyal customer because of the eatery's variety and Rison's personal touch.

"(Rison) does a really amazing job at engaging with all of his customers, whether they're first-timers, regulars or whoever," Alexander said. "He makes sure everybody's enjoying themselves or enjoying the food and enjoying the atmosphere. He does a really great job at making great food and making an even greater experience out of it."

Success is still a surprise for Rison. 

“We didn’t expect to create a product and service that could grow into this,” he said. “Like yo, let’s pay these bills and have some fun and be responsible. But fortunately, we’ve been able to do more than that.”

Despite the focus on vegan and herbal options, Rison said they are not trying to convert non-vegans to a meat-free lifestyle with Community Vegan. Only about a third of their customers are vegan, Rison said, and the goal is to broaden the minds of patrons by introducing a veggie-based substitute for the foods they already enjoy, including menu items such as Crab Cake Totchos, "I Used To Eat Fish" Filet Sandwich and Chilli Cheeze Fries.

"By no means are we ‘diet food’ and we don't even put it out there," Rison said. "For us, what we want to do is expose as many people as possible to vegetables, and if that means making it comfortable, we'll make it easier to digest."

Community Vegan co-owners wants to inspire others

Before opening Community Vegan, Rison was a radio host in Dallas and weighed upwards of 360 pounds. As a former powerlifter, he ate chicken, fish and turkey constantly throughout the week and consumed 350-400 grams of protein daily. He quit eating beef in 2004 and pork over 30 years ago, and he decided to make a complete switch to veganism after watching the documentary “What The Health” on Netflix in 2017. 

The film, which focuses on the role of food in health, inspired Rison to take his health into his own hands. He altered his diet – cutting out all meats and processed foods – and dropped 140 pounds in the process. 

Under the “Plantbased G” name, Rison started to share his health journey at speaking engagements and posted vegan recipes and cooking demos on his Instagram page. After seeing his audience grow on social media, Dotson encouraged Rison to write a digital cookbook filled with his top recipes.

In 2020, Rison released “The Quarantine 15,” an e-book filled with 15 (plus one bonus) vegan recipes curated by the Victoria-native.

Rison said he was driven to share his passion for plant-based foods and to encourage other people of color to pursue healthier diets, especially people susceptible to high cholesterol, heart disease and other serious health issues.

“We’ve got some of the worst health out of any of the groups that are out there, and it’s because of what we eat and we’re trying to change that tradition in terms of what we eat and how we eat it,” Rison said. “We want to make sure we give (patrons) options that are veggie-based and healthier for you, and hopefully, that will kind of change the way they approach food.”

Months after the release of the ebook, Dotson and Rison started thinking about opening their own restaurant.

Rethinking his life's path during the pandemic

While Rison enjoyed a career in radio, he said time spent in lockdown made him re-evaluate his life’s purpose. Instead of working for a corporate brand, he wanted to pursue something that added to his family’s legacy, and establishing a restaurant was at the top of his list. 

“For me, I said I have to be more responsible for taking care of myself, my family and my loved ones,” Rison said. “(Dotson) was still hitting me with the idea of the food truck thing, and then I said to myself, you know what, that might be the move for me to take control of my future, my destiny and build something that I can pass down to my kids and grandkids.”

Rison didn’t know whether it would be a traditional brick and mortar space or food trailer, and the only commercial dining experience he had before Community Vegan was as a cook at Popeyes at age 16. Dotson, a native Austinite, saw the potential in a mobile vegan restaurant in the central Texas city. 

The couple scoured the web and saw a listing on Craigslist for a 1973 Winnebago Chieftain in San Angelo. They drove three hours out to the seller, who was willing to lower the price of the rugged 27-foot-long RV once he heard their plans to open a restaurant.

They towed the RV to Austin and spent 10 months and thousands of dollars to gut the worn trailer and replace decades-old appliances. Once the kitchen and other items were installed, Rison and Dotson commissioned local artist Andrew Horner, known as APSE, of the ColorCartelto give the food truck its signature coat and began taking their first orders for food.

To find a home for Community Vegan, Rison and Dotson also reached out to Stuart King, president of King-Tears Mortuary on East 12th Street, who referred them to Austin Revitalization Authority President and CEO Gregory Smith. He directed the two co-owners to the Lydia food truck park.

"We knew we could thrive in the East Austin Cultural District while securing the presence of a Black business on the block," Rison said.

Sharing East Austin’s history, reclaiming the district’s influence

Dotson, the great-granddaughter of Ira Lott and Viola Madison Lott, who built a thriving lumber and housing business in the area, said there’s no better corner for the food truck.

Growing up in East Austin and Round Rock, Dotson said it was an area she used to speed past, as crime was an all too familiar occurrence during the 1970s and 1980s. But she said East Austin also was a community filled with Black and Latino-owned businesses and cultural happenings that reflect the area’s rich history. 

Over the decades, the character of East Austin has transformed dramatically as high dollar residential and commercial real estate companies razed old buildings, priced out longtime residents and crippled the traditionally Black community's past influence.

With Community Vegan’s placement, Dotson said she wants to reclaim the district’s cultural roots and remind folks of the area’s origins. 

“With us being planted here, we can share the story about what was here,” Dotson said. “At one time, it was a happy time. My mom would talk about the time there was a theater down here, and they would all take the bus down and go shopping and all sorts of things. But it’s turned into something very different. So, it’s time to turn over the lead, but with us included. It’s important our faces are here.”

Plans to open second food truck, vegan grocery store

After a year in business with the food truck, Dotson and Rison said the next step is to expand. The duo is working on putting together a second food truck in the fall that is drivable and can directly serve patrons in all corners of the city.

As far as big picture goals, Rison said he's thinking about building a Community Vegan grocery store somewhere in the East Austin Cultural District. That way, more people of color will have access to vegan ingredients and herbal supplies. 

Rison's hope is that Community Vegan becomes a national brand. But right now, he said his focus is to continue advocating for healthier lifestyles and continue putting smiles on the faces of the customers and community members who support the business. 

“We got to represent the block and say thank you,” Rison said. “This is our opportunity to say thank you every day. With every meal, we show our appreciation.”

— Austin American-Statesman

A passion forged: Founder of Austin Warrior Arts shares love for martial arts

At 9 years old, Da'Mon Stith knew his life's purpose. He was going to be a ninja, and there wasn't an invading kick, sword or blade powerful enough to stop him. 

When Stith was 8, his father gave him a toy sword with a bright red ruby on its hilt and a streak of jewels that led to the plastic white blade. It was about as sharp as a cafeteria spork, but once he got his hands on the flimsy dagger, no other toy in his collection mattered and his young, swirling mind was fixated on the world of martial arts. 

What was once a young boy's dream has grown into a lifelong passion, and Stith has explored every corner of it through his practice, his teachings and his own armory. He discovered his true identity in the process.

Growing up with Bruce Lee and Taimak as idols

Before then, Stith idolized martial arts legends and movie stars like Bruce Lee, whose high-flying kicks, rapid strikes and cosmic-level charisma drew the young padawan in. He imitated Lee's moves and tried his best to embody his effortless swag. 

Stith's obsession with martial arts culture grew once he started studying karate at age 9. But with his passion came confusion and, for a time, a sense of self-loathing and displacement. As he was going deeper into East Asian art forms, he was unknowingly pulling away from a culture of his own. 

Without any notable Black martial artists in movies or on TV screens during the era, Stith said he clung to the Asian actors of classic action films and shows of the 1970s and '80s.

"I would tell my mom and other people I was Asian, and I don't look any part of Asian," Stith said. "It was different, but things happen in pieces and in stages. When I found my inner-self, it was like holding my breath for a long time and finally being able to breathe."

It wasn't until Stith saw 1985's "The Last Dragon," which starred Taimak as Leroy Green (or Bruce Leroy), that the 11-year-old Austin native saw a martial arts hero that looked like him and shared his affinity for the combative arts. 

Taimak's Bruce Leroy character became a figure of inspiration for Stith, who started studying karate more intensely when his family moved to Okinawa, Japan, for his stepfather's job on a military base. Okinawa — the birthplace of karate — is also where Stith first recognized African history as his second passion, a discovery that later led to a 25-year career of teaching and practicing African martial arts. 

Through the teachings of his eighth-grade teacher Ms. Gross, Stith learned about the kings and queens of ancient Egypt and the leaders of African empires who ruled the continent and conquered neighboring lands. 

Stith discovered his love for capoeira, African warrior tradition

Stith was struck by his teacher's history lessons, and he started researching warrior traditions rooted in Africa and throughout the diaspora. His curiosity grew after he was introduced to capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art that was created by enslaved Africans in the South American country in the early 16th century. 

Stith, who was studying Jeet Kune Do at the time, began studying capoeira after watching the 1993 film "Only the Strong."

As with "The Last Dragon," Stith was enraptured by the sweeping movements and high-flying kicks in the movie. But more anything, he was drawn to the art form's ties to Western and Central African culture.

"People who looked like me were doing a martial art that I felt I had a kinship to," Stith said. "It wasn't based in Asia or Europe, it was an art form that was very Black and African in its presentation and it filled that void for me.

"I didn't understand the art. I just heard the music and saw the movement and it connected with me."

After moving back to Austin at age 17, he became a capoeirista and began studying the movements of Detroit-based martial artist Kilindi Iyi. He saw an advertisement for $80 worth of Iyi's videos in Black Belt Magazine and watched his instructional tapes for hours on end.

From there, Stith adopted Iyi's deceptive kicks, Zulu and Egyptian stick fighting techniques and sweeping takedowns from historical African martial arts and incorporated them into his form of capoeira. 

Stith said the art form opened up his stiff frame, allowing him to enter a state of free flow he never experienced in other disciplines. But capoeira also debunked the thought that African people willingly gave up their bodies, their names and their cultures during the Trans-Atlantic slave trade.

He began practicing and teaching his own style of the historic art form

As he dove further into African history and martial arts, Stith recognized how many Black men and women fought to obtain their freedom and retain their heritage, often times using the combat skills they learned as warriors of battle. 

"What we're told is they brought us over, we were slaves and lost everything, but capoeira shows that we resisted what was happening to us by taking up arms and passing on our DNA and culture," he said."We tried to retain what we had in this motherland to the new land, which would become the breeding ground for new martial arts found in the diaspora."

By 1997, Stith was teaching to students capoeira da rua, or capoeira of the streets, which is a more practical form of the Afro-Brazilian style that he and his training partners developed in Austin. 

Stith started teaching alongside other martial artists at various sites around town and on the University of Texas campus, including the Anna Hiss Gymnasium and an undisclosed space they nicknamed "The Boiler Room" that a faculty member opened up for his group.

He taught students of all ages and backgrounds the footwork, bladed weaponry, counter and defensive strikes of capoeira. And ever since then, Stith has dedicated his life to teaching the art form. 

"I felt I had a purpose and a destination I was heading toward," he said. "I'm the best when I'm doing teaching and sharing my practice. Seeing them grow, being a part of their lives and giving them a piece of their culture makes me feel good." 

Stith began making the weapons he spent years wielding

In 2012, Stith formed the Guild of the Silent Sword, which includes his group of students and experienced capoeiristas. Even before then, he and fellow capoeira practitioner Jeffrey DaShade Johnson started making African weapons under the Street Forge Armory name. 

At first, the duo wanted other companies to make their weapons, but when they saw how costly it would be, they started crafting them on their own.

Stith and Johnson make sickle swords, short and long takoubas, filipino swords, nimcha sabre and other items under the armory brand inside of Co.lab, a creative space that's free for residents of color. They have shipped custom pieces across the country and as far as Australia and Germany, with items priced between $30-65. 

"I love using swords, and now we have the ability to create and make these instruments that can be used for destruction but also require skill, math and science," Stith said. "It's a good feeling to have a skill nobody can take from you. As long as I have access to material and tools, I can provide for my family and there's something very empowering about that."

While the brand has been official for some time, Johnson said Street Forge Armory really got its start when he and Stith were kids.

When Johnson was 9 years old, he also idolized the martial arts icons of the time and began making his own swords from hacksaw, duct tape, hammers and a screwdriver as a chisel. In Japan, Stith created his own weapons by hammering down old golf clubs and shaving them down into make-shift katana swords. 

The two Austinites didn't know each other then, but their passions would bring them together in 1999. Johnson trained under Stith and years later he decided to go into business with him, hoping to enlighten others with the skills that come with capoeira and the confidence that sprouts from the knowledge. 

"What we're finding is people want to be more healthy and more confident in themselves, but when they go to a mixed martial arts gym, they don't see people like them, or the people that look like them don't identify or think like them," Johnson said. "We're trying to make it accessible to everybody in the community."

While Johnson was aware of the martial arts rooted in Africa and the diaspora, he said there are few people as well-versed on the history and are able to pass it on to students as seamlessly as Stith. 

'It's honestly been a healing space for me'

Four days a week, Stith teaches hand-to-hand combat and stick and sword training to students as young as 8 at his Austin Warrior Arts studio at 9705 Burnet Road. On Saturdays, the groups meet at Mueller Park to trade friendly blows with Ancient Egyptian, Ethiopian and North African weapons. 

Student Natalie Joy, whose been working under Stith for a year, said she's found community in a city she's long felt isolated, especially in the martial arts world. 

"It's honestly been a healing space for me," Joy said. "I've always loved martial arts, but I always felt in those spaces kind of 'othered.' But in this space, I feel very included and very accepted. It is healing to do something that my ancestors did way back, and another way I can connect with them and that's very important and impactful for me."

Beyond learning the combative stances, student Erika Crespo said Stith has lifted her confidence and opened her heart at times when she's needed it most. 

"Coming to these classes has helped me learn how to get close to somebody and trust them," Crespo said. "When you come from a trauma history or you're anti-social, you don't get close to people. But in this case, I had to learn how to go with the flow and trust that I don't react too much out of fear or anxiety. I'm really doing something that's making me feel whole and it's been a hard but really beautiful journey."

In continuing his practices and weapon-making, Stith's dreams as a ninja have taken shape in other ways. While he's far from an agent of espionage, he's dedicated his life to education and craftsmanship, and he's looking to amplify everything with the opening of his own studio.

Having taught at local schools, community center, daycares, fitness centers and other spaces for 25 years, Stith said having a place fully dedicated has been his ultimate goal, and he's been living it for the past three months. 

Stith said he has the studio, but they need help keeping the doors open until they can build up their student base, so he and the Austin Warrior Arts team started a GoFundMe  to help pay for the space's rent. 

So far, the group has reached $9,115 of the $12,000 goal from current and former students of Stith and community members, which Stith said is a testament to the support and importance of African martial arts and history. 

"It's like mind-blowing to be honest," Stith said. "I can't describe what it feels like having this space and knowing it's dedicated solely to this is really humbling."

– Austin 360

From small galleries to primetime TV, Dawn Okoro is shining under international spotlight

As a "tall, thin and quiet bookworm" with a love for fashion and culture magazines in Lubbock, artist Dawn Okoro said she always felt like a black sheep in the small, northwestern Texas city. 

While others her age played on playgrounds, she spent hours flipping through the pages of Vogue, Essence, Jet and Ebony magazines.

Her artistry blossomed as she studied the covers and spreads of the iconic publications, with the images of models like Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks broadening her scope and sparking her creative talents.

"For me, my window to the world was in magazines," Okoro said. "My grandma would get them and my mom had a subscription to Jet Magazine and Ebony Magazine, and every month there would be a couple of pages dedicated to fashion. They featured Black fashion designers and some of the Black models and I would just think, 'Wow.'"

With each weekly or monthly issue, Okoro was inspired to replicate the images captured by editorial photographer Richard Avedon and other creative minds of the time. 

In elementary school, she began making drawings of the clothing designs from the magazines, sometimes filling the skin with a mahogany shade where it did not previously exist. And by the time Okoro, 42, was in high school, she took her fashion-centric style to the canvas. 

But Okoro said her family didn't believe a career as a full-time artist was sustainable. 

"Where I grew up, people heard of (Pablo Picasso) or whatever, but my family was kind of like, 'That's a nice hobby, but you need to go be a doctor or a lawyer or engineer,'" Okoro said.

To appease her family, Okoro pursued other avenues. 

She graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in psychology and a minor in fashion design. She later earned a law degree from Texas Southern University, but despite the opportunities that bloomed from her academic success, her creative passions were always on her mind.

After graduating from TSU, Okoro uprooted her life in Austin to start anew in New York with the hopes of making it as an artist in the Big Apple. 

Okoro began meeting with different artists and curators, but after a year, she and her then-boyfriend — now-husband — were forced to move back to Central Texas due to family and financial strains that worsened with the Great Recession in the late 2000s. 

With no interest in practicing law and to please her family, Okoro put her artistic pursuits on hold and decided to start a career in journalism.

"In my heart, I knew I wanted to do art, but there was still that drive to feel like I'm actually doing something with my life in a way that my family would understand," she said. 

'I thought there would be less struggle and anxiety'

While working at Spectrum News Austin, Okoro said, she wouldn't pick up a paintbrush for months or even years at a time. 

"It was a process," Okoro said. "When I moved back to Texas from New York, I just decided to give up on art. I liked making work, but I think I had a vision of what an artist was. I thought there would be less struggle and anxiety. But it's impossible not to see art in your life. You really can't avoid it; it's everywhere."

Okoro eventually found time to create new art series and finished paintings she hadn't touched in years. 

Her creative revival came at a time of emptiness.

After experiencing the death of loved ones, Okoro recognized the fragility of life and decided to turn to a paintbrush and canvas again. 

"It felt like something was missing," Okoro said. "After maturing, seeing life and experiencing the death of people close to me, it kind of felt like life really is short and I need to start living and I started small from there." 

In 2018, Okoro showcased her "Punk Noir" exhibit at the George Washington Carver Museum, a show that featured towering canvas paintings inspired by local artists and influencers in and around Austin that exuded a "punk spirit," Okoro said. 

The exhibit also included music from Austin-based band BLXPLTN to coincide with the artist's vision. And with the exhibition's success, Okoro drew the attention of local and international gallerists. 

Among her many admirers was Phillip Niemeyer, owner of Northern and Southern Gallery, who marveled at Okoro's eclectic style. 

"When I first saw Okoro, I thought she was amazing from the get-go, and everything she's doing now is just reinforcing that," he said. "I love the way she's constantly exploring her work. She doesn't stay in one place."

Mauve Doyle, the artistic director at Maddox Gallery in London, said she was drawn to Okoro's transparency and creative mind. 

"I like her confidence and her ability to engage with people, take chances and trust in the process of things," Doyle said. "Her future is really bright, and her work is uplifting."

Doyle said Okoro's background in fashion bleeds into her artwork, with many of her subjects painted in deeply enriched colors and positioned in ways that mirror the covers of editorial magazines.

Where to see Dawn Okoro's work

The relatively withdrawn artist has come into her own.

Since 2017, the Houston-born artist has held residencies and exhibitions in Seattle, Miami, New York and London, and she recently collaborated with PepsiCo to have her artwork placed on the brand's Lifewtr bottles. Her work also has been featured in Season 2 of NBC's "Law & Order: Organized Crime." 

"When I watched the episode where Jennifer Beals said my name and showed my painting, I squealed a little," she said. "I’m happy to see some of my goals begin to come to fruition. There is so much more that I can do with art. I’m just getting started."

Okoro has continued to expand her artistic reach since becoming a full-time artist in August 2021, with works such as "VantaBlack," "Kool-Aid Drawings," and "Crown and Glory."

Along with international exhibitions and TV show appearances, her contributions to the arts also have been recognized by Austin organizations.

In February, CapMetro placed portraits from Okoro's "Kool-Aid Drawings" project on city buses, and a wooden bust of the artist was placed inside the Carver Museum for the center's "Peace to the Queen" exhibit of work by artist Jamel Shabazz. 

Given her success as an artist, Okoro said her mother and other family members have applauded her chosen path and accomplishments.

"I think they're proud of me," she said. "I think now that I have more opportunities that are more tangible to see, they understand it better now. I think they're happy to see me happy and doing what I love to do."

After her career pivots and periods of artistic inactivity, Okoro said she's now fully embraced her artistry and individuality. 

"It's taken me years to come to that conclusion, and there are still some times as an adult when those feelings creep in again. But I think just doing my art has helped me a lot, and getting my art out there lets me know it's OK just to be who I am," she said. 

Okoro said her goal is to inspire other artists to accept their differences as their superpowers and to add beauty to the world. 

– Austin American-Statesman

'An earworm that never left': Columbus jazzman embraces musical gifts to inspire others

For jazz musician Miles Smith, the poignant sounds of classical strings and soothing tunes from the likes of Duke Ellington, John Coltrane, and other legends of the genre echoed through his home. 

There was never a moment of dullness, Smith, 21, said. Every morning, his ears were filled with the reverberating sounds of trumpets, saxophones and piano keys, with jazz seemingly becoming an inescapable fix.

And with both his parents dedicated musicians and music professors at Ohio State University, the Fort Collins, Colorado native — who moved to Columbus at age 12 —said his  culmination as an instrumentalist was a near formality.

"I like to joke that I was either going to become a musician or be disowned by my parents," Smith said jokingly.

Named after American trumpeter Miles Davis, Smith, now a Dublin resident, picked up the drums at age 3 before switching to the trumpet in sixth grade. From there, "jazz was an earworm that never left his body," Smith said.

"That was the turning point," he said. "I pick up the trumpet in sixth grade and think, 'Maybe this will work.' I picked it up, notes started coming out, it was feeling pretty good."

Instead, his affinity for jazz music soaked deep within him, becoming a sequential part of his every day. And while many his age gravitated to other popular R&B and hip-hop artists, he leaned toward the genre that got its start in the backwaters of New Orleans. 

"It's something to be prideful about," he said. "With jazz becoming a lost art, but still very present even in 2021, is something I'm very proud of. It found its way to me, and jazz music just felt right." 

An affinity for teaching

Now, Smith is a member of the OSU Jazz Emsemble and the OSU Fusion Jazz Ensemble, led by his father Mike Smith.

As he held a picture of a younger Miles Smith resting in his arms as he conducted a band, Mike, 61, looks at his son's artistic growth in awe. 

“He has an absolutely amazing ear," Mike said. "He can hear (the sounds) and spit them out. He formed an intimate relationship with the trumpet. He could figure them out and play them out.”
Mike, a lecturer and jazz professor at OSU, said even during those early stages, he knew Miles would morph into an incredible artist.

That never shocked him. What surprised him is Smith's affinity for teaching, a role he vowed he’d never do.

“I'm thrilled by it," Mike said. "I really am.

"Me and his mom laugh at it because they seemed to do anything but teach. Both of them have found they excel at it. It’s funny but it's heartwarming to see it happen. I hear him giving lessons on Zoom to people and I marvel at how good he is at that.”

Between his commitments at OSU, Smith works as an instructor at various Columbus-area schools and previously held teaching stints at the Lincoln Theatre, a place he frequented often as he built up his own command of the leadpipe. 

Smith's influence on local musicians

Gamal Brown, associate director of The Lincoln Theatre, said Smith’s involvement there has been an incredible addition and has provided assistance toward to developing local musicians through practice and education.

“I'd love to see organizations use (Smith) as the poster child for what jazz is in the city," Brown, 49, said. "They would benefit from him as a source,"

Smith said he works as an instructor to inspire other young, Black kids to embrace their inner musician, just as his professors and mentors did for him. 

Along with his parents’ influence, Smith credits the mentor-to-mentee relationships he’s developed with famed musicians and former professors for his musical maturation. 

Having met and briefly instructed Smith when he attended OSU, Jon Lampley, 32, said he had the talent from the start.

‘He had talent from the start’

Lampley, who currently plays with the house band of "The Late Show With Stephen Colbert," quickly recognized Smith's desire to be great in the time they spent together.

From listening to Smith, Lampley said he knew he had the tools to be a great musician.

"I gravitate towards people who are inspiring and uplifting, and to be able to have a direct line of inspiration at an early point is really cool," he said. "I'm excited to see how Smith progresses, and hopefully, we can make some music in the not-so-distant future."

Anthony Stanco, 32, Smith's former trumpet professor at OSU, said the young musician's budding talents are only surpassed by his dedication to the craft.

"I've always been blown away from his talent," said Stanco, who currently works as a professor at Michigan State University. " To play this music, you have to be around the culture, and Smith does that."

From transcribing the solos of Miles Davis and fellow trumpeter Clifford Brown, Stanco said given Smith's love of the genre, the sky is the limit.

"If you take care of the music, the music will take care of you," he said. "That is huge, and I don't see him having a national name as a far stretch. As his previous instructor, I'm going to help as much as I can."

As his young musical career marches forward, Smith said there are many things he wants to pursue. While grad school is a possibility, he's thought about a full-time role at the Jazz Arts Group or the Columbus Jazz Orchestra and, more recently, teaching on the collegiate level like his two parents. 

But above all, Smith said he wants to reach the heights of Lampley and others who have inspired him. 

– The Columbus Dispatch