There is no shortage of opinions about young men in America and the choices they're making on education, work and adulthood. But amid all the commentary, one perspective is often missing: their own.
For years, conversations about young men have been dominated by statistics: declining college enrollment, shifting workforce participation and growing questions about what comes next after high school. Those numbers tell an important story. But according to Timothy Lindsey, an Advancing Evaluation in Philanthropy (AEP) Fellow with The Addy Foundation’s Center on Research and Evaluation (CORE) at Southern Methodist University, they don't tell the whole story.
"Broadly, as adults, we sometimes forget what it's like to be young," he says. "If we don't hear from young people and allow them to tell us what the issues are, we may miss opportunities to create something that could be really meaningful."
Over the past two years, Lindsey has worked to better understand what drives young men's views of postsecondary success through a fellowship supported by the Walton Family Foundation's Strategy, Learning and Evaluation team.
"What I wanted to understand was how young men themselves define success," Lindsey says. "If college is—or isn't—part of that picture, what shapes those decisions?"
Through in-depth interviews with six young men in their early 20s, Lindsey examined how identity, family, community, education and life experiences influence their aspirations and the paths they pursue after high school. His research focused on young men connected to two Dallas community-based organizations: For Oak Cliff, located in South Oak Cliff, and the Vickery Meadow Youth Development Foundation, located in Vickery Meadow. Both support area youth through education, mentorship and support pursuing meaningful careers.
"There was a lot of hope and optimism," Lindsey says. "Most of the young men defined success not simply by what they achieve, but by who they want to become and how they want to show up for the people around them."
What emerged was a far more nuanced picture than many narratives suggest.
While college was often viewed as an important pathway, it was rarely described as the final destination itself. Instead, the young men spoke about success in terms of character, purpose, family and community impact.
One of those young men was Anthony Jones II.
Now a substitute teacher at the same elementary school he once attended, Jones lifts ups students in the same way he was lifted up by his community.
Born in New Orleans, Jones relocated with his family after Hurricane Katrina and eventually settled in South Oak Cliff, an historic neighborhood with a complex history for its Black residents, steeped in both injustice and perseverance. "Katrina taught me community and resilience," he says. "Even though everything is gone, we still have each other."
Along the way, Jones also experienced challenges that could have easily derailed his vision of success. "I was one of those kids who was told I wouldn't make it. I was so aggressive, because that school lunch? It was my only meal."
Jones says the mentorship of teachers and coaches showed him that "not everything needed to be anger." Of the children he works with today, he says, "these kids are trying to tell you who they are, but they don't know how to express themselves. You don't know if how they acted was their last option. We have to listen to them."
Jones now defines success as helping his community and mentoring the next generation of students. He plans to return to school to become a teacher in South Oak Cliff.
"To graduate and make it, that's what the story has always been about. We show them that we could."
Juan Aguierre, another participant in Lindsey's research, shared a different but equally powerful perspective. Raised in Vickery Meadow, one of Dallas' most culturally diverse neighborhoods, he credits mentors and community programs like the Vickery Meadow Youth Development Foundation with helping him discover his own potential, turning his passion for sports into a growing online account dedicated to soccer content.
"My family didn't think I was anything," Aguierre said. "My mentors took a bet on me."
While their experiences differ, both point to a common theme that surfaced throughout Lindsey's research: Success is rarely achieved alone.
Family members, mentors, schools, community organizations and social networks all played critical roles in helping young men navigate important decisions about education, careers and adulthood. For some, life circumstances required them to alter carefully constructed plans. Others found confidence through relationships that helped them envision possibilities they had never considered before.
With the support of CORE, Lindsey’s research has important implications for educators, nonprofit leaders and funders alike.
His findings suggest that supporting young men requires more than simply creating educational pathways. It requires understanding how those pathways align with young men’s aspirations, identities and lived experiences. Programs that build social capital, strengthen relationships and help young people connect education to their long-term goals may be just as important as academic preparation itself.
For the Walton Family Foundation, learning and evaluation are critical tools for understanding whether our work is making a meaningful difference. Through support of the AEP Fellowship, the foundation is working to place trust and shared learning at the center of evaluation—improving practices and approaches while ensuring that the voices of those closest to the work help shape it.
At its best, evaluation helps organizations move beyond assumptions and better understand the experiences, motivations and challenges of the people they serve.
"It's important to collect information, measure it and really understand what you're doing, its outcomes and how it's making a difference," says Lindsey. "But it's also important to listen."
The statistics can tell us what is happening. Listening helps us understand why. For funders, that understanding is often where meaningful change begins.
