Today we’d like to introduce you to Brittany S. Lee-Wright, Ph.D..
Brittany S., we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
My story began long before titles or degrees—rooted in a deep love for learning and a belief that education could be a tool for liberation. As a young Black woman navigating academic spaces, I quickly recognized that my voice—and the voices of so many students who looked like me—were often overlooked or underrepresented. That recognition sparked my earliest form of advocacy: teaching students, especially Black students, how to find their voices, claim their narratives, and navigate educational systems that weren’t always designed with them in mind.
For nearly 15 years, I’ve worked as an educator committed to transforming classrooms into spaces of empowerment. Whether it’s guiding students through literature, supporting families on the path to college and career, or developing inclusive curriculum, my work has always centered equity, expression, and excellence.
But advocacy took on new meaning when my husband and I began our journey through infertility. It was a deeply personal and private struggle—one filled with unanswered questions, silent grief, and emotional isolation. It opened my eyes to the quiet battles so many families face, especially Black women, whose stories are too often unheard or minimized in conversations around reproductive health.
Rather than allow that pain to remain in the shadows, I used it as a new platform for advocacy. My children’s book, “The Biggest, Smallest Adventure,” is both a celebration of storytelling and a reflection of my own journey. It’s about hope, imagination, and what it means to believe in something even when the path is uncertain. Through it, I now advocate not only for academic success but also for healing, representation, and voice in all its forms.
Today, as an Assistant Professor of Reading and Program Coordinator at Florida Memorial University and founder of the Dr. BLW Visionary Collective, I stand at the intersection of education and advocacy. From classrooms to community spaces, I remain committed to ensuring that every learner—every dreamer—knows their voice matters and their story is worth telling.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
It hasn’t been a smooth road—far from it. But every twist, every trial, every detour has shaped me in profound ways.
As a young Black woman in academia, I often felt the pressure to prove myself in environments that questioned my expertise before hearing my voice. I carried the weight of representation—knowing that when I walked into a room, I wasn’t just showing up for myself, but for every student, colleague, and community member who saw themselves in me. That responsibility is powerful, but it can also be exhausting.
Then came the deeply personal struggle of infertility. My husband and I walked a quiet, painful journey filled with disappointment, loss, and emotional isolation. Infertility is not just a medical condition—it’s a heartache that seeps into your daily life, your relationships, and your sense of identity. And in Black communities, especially, it’s rarely talked about. I found myself advocating for students by day, while silently praying for my own miracle by night.
What sustained me through it all—what continues to sustain me—is my faith. My faith has been the anchor in the storm. It reminded me that my worth isn’t tied to titles, timelines, or outcomes. It reminded me that even in waiting, I wasn’t forgotten. There were moments I thought I couldn’t go on—but God met me there. In classrooms, in hospital rooms, in moments of both triumph and tears.
Faith not only walked me through, but it transformed how I show up for others. It deepened my empathy, broadened my mission, and gave me a peace that surpasses understanding. Today, my advocacy is stronger because of what I’ve walked through—not in spite of it. I stand as a witness that the road may not be smooth, but it can still lead to purpose.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
At my core, I am an educator—and I believe teaching is an art form. As an Assistant Professor of Reading and Program Coordinator at Florida Memorial University, I specialize in literacy instruction and teacher preparation, particularly in the areas of reading assessment, curriculum development, and equitable classroom practice. I am deeply invested in how we teach students to make meaning—not only from texts, but from their own lived experiences.
I’ve spent over a decade working at the intersection of literacy, identity, and justice. From my time as a high school literacy coach and Cambridge AICE instructor, to now teaching and mentoring undergraduate and graduate students in reading education, I have seen how education—when done well—changes lives. My scholarly work amplifies the voices of Black women, explores counter-storytelling, and challenges systems that exclude or diminish the brilliance of marginalized students. I also contribute to the field through conference presentations, curriculum development with the Florida Department of Education, and academic review work for national journals.
What sets me apart is my ability to bridge the academic with the personal. Whether I’m leading a seminar on evidence-based reading strategies or writing a children’s book on IVF, I approach all my work with empathy, authenticity, and rigor. I’m most proud of using literacy not just as content, but as liberation—empowering others to tell their stories, challenge injustice, and find hope in hard places.
Ultimately, I believe education should not only inform, but transform. And that’s the mission I carry into every classroom, keynote, and page I write.
We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?
I wouldn’t call myself a natural risk-taker—I genuinely love comfort! I enjoy structure, clarity, and knowing what’s around the corner. But the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized that some of the biggest goals in life—whether personal, spiritual, or professional—require you to step outside of what feels safe. Growth demands discomfort, and purpose sometimes requires you to leap even when you’re not sure where you’ll land.
So while I may not be someone who moves without hesitation, I’ve become what I’d call a “moderate risk-taker,” I’ve taken risks that have changed my life: publishing a deeply personal children’s book about infertility, transitioning from K-12 education to higher ed, and using my own story to advocate for others when silence would have been easier. None of those choices were without fear, but I made them afraid—and I made them anyway.
That’s what I’m learning: taking a risk doesn’t mean you’re fearless. It means you’re willing to do it scared. I think there’s something powerful about moving forward even with trembling hands. It’s in those moments that you discover just how much faith, resilience, and vision you really carry.
Pricing:
- 15. 99 (Paperback “The Biggest, Smallest Adventure” Children’s Book-Amazon)
- 18.99 (Hardback “The Biggest, Smallest Adventure” Children’s Book-Barnes and Noble)
- Starting at $150/hr-Educational consultant and literacy advocate. I offer customized workshops, keynote talks, and curriculum support—tailored to uplift equity, literacy, and educator impact.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.drblw.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/doc_blw?igsh=bXV6cG0wYWFyc2lo&utm_source=qr
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brittany.lee.wright.2025/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/brittany-lee-wright-ph-d
- Other: https://doctorbleewright.weebly.com/
