Entertaining as they are, movies have an innate weakness. They are just so difficult to believe and never match up to the stories that people script every day.
Real-life drama, on the other hand, wins by about 9 and 8 over movies and for proof, provide yourself with a firm embrace of a young man named Kamaiu Johnson. But here’s a warning: You may not want to let go, because his story is that infectious, his saga that inspiring.
“He definitely has the ‘it’ factor,” insists Bill Powers, the CEO and cofounder of Cambridge Mobile Telematics, the world’s largest telematics service provider. “He’s got a 10,000-watt smile.”
Of course, that’s the here and now of this 29-year-old who is scripting a story of success in golf circles as the face of the Advocates Professional Golf Association. But the here and now didn’t look like this in the beginning, and when you study what it did look like, you are reminded just how powerful is the human spirit and how profound is the love people can shower upon you.
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Living in a two-bedroom apartment with his mother, his grandmother, and four other children in Tallahassee, Fla., Kamaiu Johnson had dropped out of eighth grade and was on a path that would have dead-ended if not for “people who poured seed into my life.”
Heroes, these people.
Jan Auger, city golf superintendent in Tallahassee who watched the young teenager swinging a stick and marveled at how effortlessly and rhythmic was the motion. Sensing the young man needed direction in his life, she struck a deal with Johnson – do work around the club that would help pay for his $1 rounds at Hilaman Park.
Ramon Alexander, a member of the Florida House of Representatives since 2016 – and more importantly, perhaps, a graduate of The First Tee – served as a “Big Brother” to Johnson. He provided a place to live and a code of discipline.
Providing different levels of love and guidance, Auger and Alexander helped Johnson’s world take shape. The golf came naturally to him (he won the Tallahassee Open three times), but Johnson was introduced to community service work with at-risk teens and programs that would eventually earn him a GED and provide even more depth to his character.
“I hit the lottery with people in my life. Absolutely,” said Johnson, who calls Auger “mom” and speaks to her every day. He is also in daily contact with Alexander, who asked Johnson to be godfather to his son.
The circle of supporters has grown beyond just Auger and Alexander, thanks to Johnson’s success on the APGA. The non-profit golf tour that helps prepare African-Americans and other minorities compete in tournaments and in the industry was established 12 years ago and has gained traction to the point where 15 tournaments are on the 2022 calendar.
Thus far this year, three have been won by Johnson, including a successful defense of the APGA Tour Championship. He is the 2022 Player of the Year and has secured status on the PGA Tour LatinoAmerica in 2023.
“Golf,” he told Golf Digest’s Tod Leonard, “saved me; it gave me a reason to live.”
It is a beautiful thing, Johnson’s path to a better life because of golf. What strikes at the core of this young man, however, is his understanding of the big picture.
“My grandmother once told me, ‘Someday you’ll be the head, not the tail,” said Johnson. “So maybe I’m the Chosen One of my family. If so, I’ll never forget where I came from. And I know I have to produce. That is why I wake up and grind. You have to truly enjoy the process of getting better.”
That brings us to the here and now and to the presence of such CEOs as Jeff Dailey of Farmers Insurance, Chuck Robbins of Cisco, and Powers. They believe in more than the golf game that Johnson possesses; there is a collective conviction that the young man’s story of perseverance transcends the game.
“I believe he has the ability to change the world. His platform is so big. He has charisma. He will encourage children,” said Powers, who for the past two years has hosted the Kamaiu Johnson First Tee Massachusetts Clinic at The Ridge Club in Sandwich, where he is a member.
To watch as Johnson interacted with First Tee students, then to be with Johnson and his fiancé, Rika, and their 10-month-old daughter, Riyah Zuri, at the Powers’ Cape Cod home provided even further proof to the CEO that his company’s support is well-directed.
Just don’t use the word “sponsor” to either gentlemen.
“I’m less a sponsor and more of a guiding influence,” suggested Powers.
Johnson was more emphatic.
“Bill isn’t a sponsor. That’s just paper,” said the golfer. “He’s a Big Brother to me. I truly believe that you cannot be what you don’t see and Bill sees a lot of powerful things in me. When I was leaving (after the Cape Cod weekend), I broke down crying.”
On the surface, one might consider this an odd relationship – a CEO of a software giant in Cambridge, Mass., and an African-American golfer from an impoverished background. But Powers took a route you won’t see elsewhere in the CEO world (he went to high school at Minuteman Tech, attended Cape Cod Community College, and wanted to be a high school basketball coach) and identifies with the remarkable layers of perseverance shown by Johnson.
“When I read his story, I said, ‘I’ve got to meet this kid. My wife and I personally (met) him to make sure he was who we thought he was.”
Johnson, they agreed, was the real deal and checked all the boxes. Humble. Of strong character. Appreciative. Disciplined. Focused.
Powers, meanwhile, passed an exam of his own, one that Johnson applied to measure the dynamics of this “sponsorship.”
“We hardly ever talk about money,” said Johnson. “This is not the story of a white CEO hanging around with a poor Black kid,” said Johnson. “He’s a very good person who cares about people.”
Loves the game, too. Only Bill Powers, thankfully and vigorously, embraces a notion that golf needs more diversity and more people who can play the game and pull people along. Kamaiu Johnson deserves that opportunity and golf is blessed to have him.
“My faith in him comes from my faith,” said Powers. “His golf is the vehicle that will fuel his story.”
