A personal mission to ensure no one faces career transitions alone
— Dr. Dana D. Wells, Founder
“Earlier this month, a colleague and I spoke about potential collaboration opportunities. He works for a prestigious university that is looking to change its business model and partner with industry practitioners who hold themselves to high ethical and intellectual standards.”
He asked me why I call myself Dr. Dana and whether he could provide some constructive feedback. Of course, I said yes. He explained that addressing oneself as “Dr.” is a red flag and that people who rely on the practice tend to be perceived one of two ways: insecure in their abilities or insistent on leading with a title rather than the content of character.
He claimed that some consultants who lead with titles take projects just for the money and show no concern about their clients’ success. Based on my academic and professional experiences, my colleague knew that neither perception applied to me. He asked why I call myself Dr. Dana. I thanked him for his candor and shared my reasons.
I am Dr. Dana to pay tribute to my dad, the late Rev. Milton E. Wells Sr., a Vietnam veteran who died fourteen years ago at age fifty-nine. When I was eleven years old, he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia due to Agent Orange exposure in the Vietnam War.
Before his diagnosis, my dad was the breadwinner in our family. He worked for Prudential Insurance and pastored two churches. My mom was a stay-at-home mom and an excellent homemaker. She had a high-school diploma. After my dad was diagnosed and could no longer hold down a job, she worked in a furniture factory to support our seven-member family.
We went from living a nice middle-class lifestyle to needing to boil water to take baths and not having heat in the winter. Sometimes, there was no food. Sometimes, there was no electricity. My father suffered delusions and became mentally, physically, and verbally abusive toward my mother, my brothers, my sister, and me. He was not himself. I was a daddy’s girl. I did not understand what was happening to my dad. The entire situation was surreal. This life-changing experience went on for three of my formative years. Eventually, my parents divorced. I lost my dad. I stopped dreaming and living and went into survival mode.
I explained to my colleague that I am Dr. Dana to honor my dad’s legacy and the commitment I made to him in our last conversation, which took place on September 25, 2005. Due to Hurricane Rita, I evacuated Houston, drove to my hometown, College Station, and something told me to go see my dad. He lived alone in my great grandmother’s house, in the neighborhood where I grew up.
The front door was opened, so I knocked on the screen door and went in. My dad was glad to see me. He appeared to be in good health. He was in reflective spirits. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and we started talking. We had not done so for years. Suddenly, my dad declared that he was proud of me and that he loved our family. He apologized for not being there for us and all the pain that he put us through.
For three hours, I had my dad back. We talked about the twenty-four years of my life that he’d missed. Despite being a diehard Cowboys fan, he told me that he wanted to go to a Texans game with me. He said that a certain gentleman I liked at the time was a very good man and that if things should move forward, I had his approval.
“My dad’s last words to me were that he wanted me to get my Ph.D. I told him that I would; I hadn’t yet found a program to fit my goals, but I assured him that I would.”
That was the last conversation I had with my dad. He died three months later, on November 24, 2005. I was devasted. He never told me how sick he was. He never said anything at all. On December 8, 2017, I proudly fulfilled my dad’s request. When I told my colleague the story, I barely managed to do so without crying.
My colleague was silent for a few moments and then said that he hadn’t been expecting my response. He’d thought that I was going to tell him that I call myself Dr. Dana to establish my credibility and respect as a Black woman. I let him know that I’m neither that shallow nor that insecure. The meaning is deeper. He genuinely thanked my father for his service and thanked my family for our sacrifice. I said that no one could ever honestly know the sacrifices that military families experience or make.
My colleague paused and then replied that my name, Dr. Dana, and my branding as a consultant might affect our ability to have a working relationship. I thought about what the two letters and a period mean to me and the wonderful experiences that I’ve had with my clients. Being my authentic self, I announced, “I am Dr. Dana. I understand if we cannot work together because of my title, and I sincerely thank you for your candor. Always be honest with me, and I will be honest with you.” He agreed, and we ended our call.
For days, I reflected on our conversation, my past, and how I should share my experiences.
I didn’t tell my colleague that to lessen the financial burden on my parents; I chose to start working at age thirteen. I didn’t tell him I used to sing first soprano and competed in UIL competitions in junior high school, but I got so mad at God for what happened to my family that I stopped singing.
I didn’t tell him that at age fifteen, I was an honors student but still got an F in chemistry because I worked at McDonald’s until 1:00 a.m. but had to get up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready for school.
I didn’t share that although I originally wanted to become a medical doctor, seeing my dad go in and out of the Temple Veterans Hospital discouraged me from pursuing a career in the medical field. Doing so would’ve been too painful.
I didn’t tell my colleague that my parents did not save for me to go to college; there were neither college tours nor SAT preparations nor discussions of majors. I didn’t share that I had to work full-time and go to school part-time; when I could no longer take night classes at Blinn College, I attended Texas A&M University full-time to complete my bachelor’s degree. The entire process took five years.
I didn’t tell my colleague that I found my passion for being a business transformation consultant through my experience with a merger of the Texas A&M University System’s licensing, business development, and patent offices. I didn’t share that this experience was the reason I changed my major from accounting to psychology and pursued a solid research background; I wanted to conduct research in organizations and help them transform.
I didn’t tell my colleague that I sought more practitioner experience and earned a master’s degree in industrial/organizational psychology from the University of Houston Clear Lake. I didn’t share that I designed my rotational program to gain hands-on knowledge of business transformation consulting or that because of my initiative, the university gave me Outstanding Graduate Student and Outstanding Leadership awards.
I didn’t tell my colleague that during my master’s internship, the US EEOC Houston District Office used my case analysis to file an Americans with Disabilities Act Commissioner’s Charge in Washington, DC. I didn’t tell my colleague that I did a study abroad and worked on a business transformation program with the Kaohsiung City Government in Taiwan, ROC, the world’s third largest container port, at the time.
I didn’t tell my colleague that the Veterans Administration awarded my dad his 100% service-connected disability when he was fifty-four years old. However, because of my age, twenty-nine, I was ineligible to receive the education benefits, and they did not include retro pay education expenses. I did not let that stop me. I am still paying off my $113,000 student loan.
I didn’t tell my colleague that twenty years ago, despite my desire to earn a Ph.D., the time was not right for me to do so. Instead, I focused on my career and targeted companies that were going through mergers or acquisitions or creating startups in their existing businesses. I honed my business transformation and consulting skills.
When I spoke with my colleague, I didn’t share many of the experiences that have made me Dr. Dana, but I am sharing them with you now.
I have the utmost respect for my colleague. Our dialogue was more significant than either of us suspected at the time.
We had an open, honest, respectful, and transparent conversation. My colleague and I learned a great deal about each other, more than we would have if he hadn’t asked the question. We have mutual respect for and like each other as people even if we cannot do business with each other.
The conversation encouraged me to share my personal story with you. I recognize that I’ve been in survival mode for a very long time. Until now, I could not share my story. I’ve had several close colleagues ask me why I always work so hard. I didn’t understand what they meant. Hard work had been my way of life for decades; it was my normal behavior. For me, survival was earned through hard work. Now, I’m living instead of surviving. I’m honoring my past instead of trying to work myself away from it.
I showed my real character by forgoing a potential opportunity because it did not align with my values. My dedication to honoring my dad and the commitment that I made to him supersede any perception of two letters and a period and any branding as a consultant. I am an evidence-based research practitioner. If a position requires me to be less than entirely authentic or to compromise my ethics or integrity, I pass on the opportunity. I won’t do my best work. It will hurt my brand, my reputation, and my legacy (what my dad sacrificed and what he meant to me).
I am an advocate of career planning for middle- and high-school students, especially those who have grown up in single-parent and socioeconomically disadvantaged families; those who have been victims of domestic violence; and those who have parents and loved ones with mental illness.
I actively support veterans’ initiatives. Veterans, thank you and your families for your service. My company—Dana Wells & Associates (DW&A)—supports Veterans at Work and is a supporting sponsor of the Houston Energy Breakfast, underwritten by KCA.
I love Mike Evans, Ashli Evans, and the Mike Evans Family Foundation. Mike is not only a phenomenal Aggie, a two-time Pro-Bowl player, and one of the greatest wide receivers in the NFL today but also a servant leader. By sharing his story about domestic violence, Mike helped me find the strength to share mine. I am finally able to express my story verbally and in writing but have always helped others through my actions with existing organizations such as Dress for Success; Girls, Inc.; Girl Scouts; Junior Achievement; Lakewood Church; Purple Heart; The Star of Hope Women’s and Family Emergency Shelter; and The Association of Former Students.
KCA pays special tribute to veterans by providing them with direct access to energy-industry decision-makers and career opportunities. DW&A coordinates the Veterans Networking Event and has built relationships with the Gulf Coast Region Texas Veterans Leadership Program, Combined Arms, and Lone Star Veterans Association to ensure career prospects for veterans.
My life experiences with a Vietnam-era veteran who suffered from mental illness make me an unofficial ambassador for these organizations. I share information about the Texas Veterans Leadership Program and Combined Arms with every veteran I know. I encourage them to use the available resources. All of our veterans and their families deserve special treatment. Our sacrifices for our country are too high.
As you can see, the conversation with my colleague helped me open up and share my story. I am forever grateful to him for his honesty. I asked him to co-write this article, but he graciously declined.
On Memorial Day 2019, I am thinking about my dad and reflecting on everything that he meant to me. My dad taught me courage. He taught me the importance of academic excellence, character, servant leadership, and social responsibility. I understand why my colleague declined to co-write the article.
Help individuals in transition by making a tax-deductible donation to the DD ME Wells Foundation.
Become a Wells Impact Partner by supporting career seekers every month on their journey to economic stability.
Sponsor a career coaching scholarship for someone overcoming systemic barriers to employment.
DD ME Wells Institute provides career training, financial education, and employment services to help individuals achieve economic independence. We’re committed to transforming lives through practical skills development and personalized support.
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Disclaimer: The DW&A Career Transformation Accelerator
has supported clients in achieving significant outcomes, including salary increases of $35,000 or more. However, results are not guaranteed and vary based on individual factors such as professional background, engagement level, market dynamics, and application of program strategies.
