Book honors grandmother’s legacy and lessons — including “sweat equity”
AMERICUS, Georgia ― In 1987, Marcus Johnson was living in his grandmother’s one-bedroom duplex with several other family members who shared a small kitchen and a single bathroom whose tub and shower were not functional, leaving the 13-year-old to bathe in a foot tub with water heated on the stove..
It had been that way for years — until a tall, lanky man with an unapologetic Southern accent and unbridled enthusiasm came into the home to have a chat with Ms. Lillie Bell Johnson about partnering to build a simple, decent home.
As Johnson recounts in his new book — Ten Lessons from a Praying Grandmother — the conversation his grandmother had with Millard Fuller (then president of Habitat for Humanity) changed everything for his grandmother and his family.
Granted, he was not excited to hear that partnering to build the home required “sweat equity,” and his grandmother demanded that the whole family pitch in.
“I was 13 at the time, and I wanted my Saturdays off for cartoons and stuff,” he recalled this week while visiting the headquarters of The Fuller Center for Housing, also founded by Millard Fuller. “And she’s like, ‘No, we got to go build a house.’ I think she even used the term ‘sweat equity.’ We would go over on Saturdays, and in a couple of months, the house was built.”
“I actually had my own room,” he continued. “More importantly to me, it had a working bathroom. I was able to take showers for the first time. I feel like it really changed the trajectory of our family. It definitely did for me because that same year, I ended up being one of the first freshmen to ever start at Americus High. I got my own room right before we started fall camp my freshman year. I think that had a lot to do with me being at peace.”
While he may have been at peace, he terrorized opposing quarterbacks and receivers on the football field under legendary Americus High Coach Alton Shell over the course of four years and signed to play with Valdosta State University in 1991. By 1994, he was an All-Conference safety who helped lead the Blazers to their first-ever Division II playoff appearance, helping lay the foundation for future national championships at VSU..
It was during his days with the Americus High Panthers that one of his grandmother’s most endearing lessons — humility — was drilled into him, keeping him grounded even as accolades and awards piled up.
“She rarely went to any of my games,” Johnson said. “I think she may have seen me play once.”
After one of his best games with a couple of interceptions and many pats on the back from Panthers fans and relatives, he came home to a different reaction.
“I remember coming home and being excited about all the stuff I did,” he said. “And she would be like, ‘Okay, that’s great. Make sure you wash those dishes in the morning.’ But I needed that to be grounded.”
She also preached that life was about your intention more than attention, and actions speak louder than words.
“She taught me that it’s okay to be proud of yourself, but just be humble with it,” he said. “Let other folks talk about you rather than you talk about yourself. It’s not about being loud. It’s not about being the person that’s getting all the attention. Let whatever you do speak for you.”
Through the years, Coach Shell at Americus High and Coach Hal Mumme at Valdosta State reinforced perhaps the most important lesson from his grandmother — the value of hard work.
“She was very big on putting in the work and knowing that nobody in this world has to do anything for you,” said Johnson, who today is Director of Community Relations & Volunteer Services at Phoebe Sumter Medical Center in Americus.
It’s one of the reasons his grandmother embraced the “sweat equity” component of becoming a homeowner partner, something that remains a foundational principle of The Fuller Center for Housing. Johnson still believes “sweat equity” is an important concept.
“I think it means a lot,” he said. “I think it gives you immediate ownership. It means that it also goes back to what my grandmother said. You know, nobody has to do anything for you. I really think that it makes a difference when people are actually being a part of the process. It’s a hand-up, not a handout. You’re not giving me anything. I’m actively participating in what we’re doing.
“And when somebody does do something for you, you need to thank them and you need to be in there with them,” he added.
That connects to another lesson from his grandmother — expressing gratitude. In fact, one of his grandmother’s favorite sayings is on the cover of his book: “Give me my flowers while I can still smell them.”
“Just tell people thank you,” Johnson said. “That’s a big thing with me. I really notice when people don’t say thank you. And don’t wait until they’re gone and can’t hear you. Make sure you tell people thank you. Make sure you give people their gifts while they know about them.”
His grandmother’s home remains in the family. It was passed down to his mother, and today his sister lives in the home.
“To this day, you know, when we have important family events, that’s the house that everybody goes to,” he said. “It’s still the family house because it was such a turning point in my life and in our family’s trajectory.”
Over the past two years, Johnson has been among the hundreds of volunteers (including dozens from Phoebe Sumter) who have built homes during the Americus-Sumter Fuller Center’s Big Event Build. In many ways, volunteering with The Fuller Center today helps him remain connected to his grandmother and to the younger version of himself.
“It takes me back to when I was 13,” he said. “It takes me back to knowing the joy that my grandmother had. In a lot of ways, she had a hard life. I just think back to all of her sacrifices, all of the stuff that she did up to that point manifested into that house.”
And, he’s ready to build again, even though he readily admits he’s no construction expert.
“I just think it’s important — and not only just for the families, but also the community. It shows that the community cares. It shows that the community cares. When a house is built, the community is immediately better. Health is better. Crime goes down. Taxes are paid. It’s just a general sense of pride and accomplishment. It takes away the blight that’s in the city. It’s a win-win for everybody.
“And, as long as I’m physically able, I’m always going to be out there doing whatever I can.”
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