“The one thing I would tell the younger generation is to never stop learning.” In this special Detroit is Different x I Am a Genius collaboration, host Candace Cox-Wimberly (She’s a Genius / I Am a Genius) sits with Brandon Young, CEO and co-founder of Safety Ops Specialists, for a conversation that feels like Detroit porch wisdom with a business plan attached. From “Linwood… the stumping grounds” to “east side, also downtown,” Brandon maps how Legacy Black Detroit raises builders—wearing “suits since I was two years old,” shaped by the Nation of Islam, Aisha Shule, and the discipline of being “unapologetically me.” He breaks down entrepreneurship as “getting your time back,” but keeps it real: “It doesn’t start off the gate… you need to… build… a well-oiled machine.” The interview hits deep when Brandon shares how grief became fuel after losing his brother to COVID: “That pain pushed you forward,” leading him to create “between 50 and 60 jobs” and watch people go from “sleeping in their car” to “now I got a house.” He ties mentorship to survival—“closed mouth don’t get fed”—and ends with Detroit prophecy: “our work ethic is second to none.” This episode connects our past discipline to a future of entrepreneurship, wellness, and community-owned opportunity.

“Trump is not the disease of our politics—he’s just the worst symptom,” Abdul El-Sayed tells Detroit is Different, and from that line he builds a whole Michigan-rooted case for why progressives can’t just run against villains—they’ve got to run for people. In this deep, story-rich conversation, Abdul traces his Detroit foundation from an Egyptian father who “literally studied into existence the life I got to live” to a multiracial Michigan family that forced him to “explain myself to people my whole life,” and he connects that lived truth to organizing: the courage to face the bully, because “once you let them take your lunch money once you’re never going to eat lunch.” He breaks down public health as moral politics—“15 hours or 15 minutes” can mean a ten-year life expectancy gap—and calls out a system where CEOs get rich “while denying healthcare to people who they know need it.” From rebuilding Detroit’s health department (glasses vans outside schools) to refusing corporate money, Abdul lays out a liberal, progressive, activist spirit that echoes Michigan’s long tradition of labor, civil rights, and community-led power: “It’s not enough to say what you’re against—you got to say what you’re for.”

“You don’t get a blueprint in Detroit—you just have to be good and consistent.” Spoken word artist, poet, experience creator, and filmmaker Natasha T. Miller joins Detroit is Different for a deeply grounded conversation on what artistry means when it’s rooted in family, responsibility, and legacy Black culture. With humor and honesty, she reflects on being “300 cousins deep,” tracing her lineage back to Highland Park and a 14-bedroom family home that survived without lights or water—proof that Detroit creativity has always been born from endurance. T. Miller opens up about grief, raising her nephew after the loss of her brother, and how those life shifts reshaped her art: “It wasn’t a burden—it was what I was supposed to be doing.” She challenges the myth of the starving artist, insisting that sustainability is part of integrity: “If you’re making a decision to be a professional poet, you need to make money in that decision.” From the explosive era of Detroit’s spoken-word movement to her current work archiving grief, parenting, and memory through film and performance, this episode connects past and future. It’s a testament to Detroit’s experimental spirit—where art feeds community, accountability fuels creativity, and legacy is something you actively build.

“I wanted a red brick house in Detroit. That’s all I wanted.” In this Detroit is Different studio sit-down, Misha Stallworth West—Senior Program Officer at the Ralph C. Wilson, Jr. Foundation—traces a five-generation arc from Selma to Detroit and family full of community organizers. She remembers a “stoic” grandfather, and a grandmother Alma Stallworth nicknamed “the Rep,” whose fierce love for children helped shape the Northwest Activity Center, Beaubien Junior High, and the Black Caucus Foundation of Michigan’s drug, tobacco, and violence prevention work. Misha explains how growing up in meetings made her “a well-trained introvert,” and why she’s “never asked herself if I’m allowed to speak in any space—ever.” From Grant Park Chicago IL on election night of Barack Obama, to part of Detroit’s first school board after emergency management, she connects Legacy Black Detroit’s political education to today’s care economy. Her current focus is caregivers of older adults: “every time you go get a box for my auntie house, I’m talking about you,” and “you can’t pour from an empty cup.” This episode is a blueprint for how Detroit’s past-built institutions can power our next future. and how we honor elders.