Today we’d like to introduce you to Ryan Norris.
Hi Ryan, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My name is Ryan M. Norris. I’m an Event Architect, Artist, DJ, and Education Advocate in the Baltimore-Washington, DC area. My story starts in Durham, North Carolina, at the intersection of a profound love for the arts, education, and music. This current chapter actually began when I was 10 years old in Montgomery, Alabama, authored by Mrs. Althea Thomas at her music and fine-arts school, “House of the Arts.”
She encouraged me to pick up a paintbrush and a musical instrument at a young age, nurturing a creativity that would eventually shape my entire life. Mrs. Althea Thomas was my maternal grandmother, widely revered for serving as the organist at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church from 1955 to 2015. That position was personally offered to her by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Sadly, she passed away the weekend of my birthday last year, but her legacy remains my foundation.
Naturally, I chose the only instrument I thought would attract girls: the alto saxophone.
The soundtrack of my childhood stretched from Michael Franks, Marvin Gaye, and Steely Dan to Beanie Sigel and Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band. That range shaped me.
In 2008, two of my Line Brothers and one of our closest friends created LifE KiT Lifestyle Co. at North Carolina Central University. LK specialized in the manufacturing, distribution, and advertising of accessories, apparel, and other lifestyle items consistent with the company’s core values: Love, Energy, Knowledge, and Time.
I initially contributed creative direction and marketing ideas before eventually being invited to serve as Director of Marketing. Our “Stay Humble” campaign, a subtle yet timeless reminder that it’s often the simple things that inspire us and that what we take for granted usually matters the most, became one of our more notable and recognized initiatives. We were collectively invested in the branding, product ideas, reception, and cultural impact, fueled by a creative restlessness and the feeling of being big fish in a small pond.
In 2011, I stepped out on faith. At almost three years to the date that LK was born, decisions needed to be made. Sales had remained consistent, brand awareness was growing rapidly, and we were still doing everything organically and authentically. We developed a longer-term plan and even mapped out a road trip from Durham to Las Vegas to participate in the fashion-focused POOL Trade Show for apparel.
Our goals were aligned and the vision was clearer than ever. Our social media presence had grown exponentially, and we’d gotten our products on major television networks and into the hands of people in Hollywood. The promise of more pushed me to make a decision for myself, too. I couldn’t stay in Durham.
So I packed my life into one suitcase, bought a Megabus ticket, and moved to Washington, DC. The original plan was for our team to relocate together, but the momentum shifted and I soon found myself alone in a new city, splitting time between DC and Durham. During the week, I was plotting our plan to take over the world, filling out job applications, and taking whatever interviews I could get before Thursday night came.
Thursday nights meant catching the last Megabus from Union Station back to Durham to work valet shifts at Southpoint Mall. I hadn’t planned on telling them about the move because I didn’t want to risk losing the job.
It was hard, sure. But it didn’t compare to the hardest job I’ve ever had: co-parenting a two-year-old son from a distance.
It was humbling, but I wasn’t going back.
My breakthrough came in March 2012, six months after becoming a DC resident and one month after a successful showing in Las Vegas.
It was also one month after the release of “The LOVE Quarter Mixtape,” a musical project highlighting rising artists across multiple genres, all handpicked by me. As Executive Producer and A&R, I asked poets, singers, rappers, and musicians who followed me on Twitter to submit music for consideration. The selected artists became part of a growing creative community that extended far beyond the project itself.
I took a personal passion project, packaged it as a marketing initiative, presented it to the company, and just pressed play. I poured everything into it. Produced entirely from a Blackberry Curve and my ex-girlfriend’s futon. I’ve never doubted my abilities and I have always trusted the process. However, at times, I did wonder if maybe I was in over my head and jumped in the big pond too soon. But the roll-out and reception of the project was much better than i’d have ever imagined. For the first time in this story, all of the stars felt aligned.
My next trip back to Durham started like any other until I got a call from my supervisor regarding an employee audit. He explained a discrepancy with my address. He assured me it was probably nothing. He told me not to worry, but asked that I not come into work until it was sorted out. Right then, I knew it was a wrap.
I took a deep breath and locked in. I spent part of that day going over what I had been up to in DC with LK, and the other part with my son, applying for more jobs. That afternoon, around 4pm, I received a call back about a part-time position supporting children with special needs in an after-school program. The interview was that upcoming Monday.
When I got back to DC, they hired me on the spot. I accepted and immediately called one of my best friends with the good news. He suggested I meet him and his colleagues for drinks that week. He told me about his favorite bar near Howard University’s campus, right off of 9th St and Florida NW, in the U-Street Corridor. That Wednesday, I was introduced to Darnell’s Bar & Lounge.
We were catching up and preparing to order drinks when I noticed that the bartender seemed stressed. She was taking food orders, serving patrons, and rushing to the other end of the bar to change the music every few songs. I asked jokingly asked her why does she hate so much music. She laughed and explained that their regular Wednesday Night DJ had cancelled last minute, so she plugged in the bar’s laptop and was playing from YouTube and iTunes. She had been trying to keep the vibe consistent with the crowd.
I immediately saw an opportunity.
I introduced myself to the owner and told him I was a DJ who wouldn’t mind stepping in temporarily. He recognized my friend as regular, gave me a couple guidelines, and then accepted my offer. I told him he wouldn’t regret it and got right to work.
What I didn’t tell him was that my only DJ experience at that time came from a couple of Alpha Kappa chapter “KooKouts” in college using iTunes on my MacBook Air.
But I made it work and impressed him enough to earn my first professional “payment” for live DJ services: free Bacardi Limon and Sprites all night (but no more than three), and an open invitation to come back anytime.
I held him to that. Amazing what a little self-confidence and an aux cord can do.
From there, I showed up consistently, accepting any opportunity to do it again. I built a rapport with his regulars and stayed late to help around the bar even if I didn’t get to DJ that night. I gradually became a part of his community, and eventually became their resident DJ. Darnell Perkins gave me a floor when I had nothing, but he didn’t know that. I’ll never forget that.
As LifE KiT evolved and my bookings increased, I hit a somewhat stagnant or stifled spot creatively. I had a job, a place, DJ gigs, etc. but I felt a shift outside. I felt like I kept seeing or attending the same events, over and over. This was around the time when sections and selfies really flooded the clubs, and the bottomless brunches all started to blend together. soul. I wanted to go to an event that didn’t exist, so I decided to throw it myself. I turned my attention back to R&B and created R&Brunch, an soul-inspired, R&B centered experience born from wanting to fill a void. That commitment to the genre became a staple of my work, most notably through my annual mix series, “From Ryan, with Love,” which recently reached its 13th installment this past February.
At the same time, I could feel the changes my work with youth was having on me. I realized I didn’t just want to support students part-time after school or during summer breaks; I wanted to shape their environment. I wasn’t sure how to make that transition because I didn’t have formal experience in education or a real understanding of how the system worked.
Through a suggestion from a friend, I applied to become a dedicated aide for fourth-grade students with severe emotional and behavioral disabilities. That became my first step toward eventually leading school culture initiatives.
Eventually, there was far more work than life in the balance, and I needed a break. In a short 4 years, I had been promoted from a Dedicated Aide, mainly supporting one student in a classroom, to being the Behavior Intervention Lead. On a day to day basis, I was supervising roughly 15 Dedicated Aides, and supporting an entire elementary school of students’ maladaptive behaviors. DJing had been very good to me and I was planning to just take a short leave to recalibrate. Ironically, I stepped away just weeks before COVID to recalibrate.
During lockdown, I mapped out ideas on dry-erase boards, recorded the “Red Tape Series,” commissioned customizable mixes, launched limited merch tied to different projects, and tried my best to stay connected with my tribe. I picked up writing poetry and painting portraits again as creative outlets.
Randomly, I started sending friends Google questionnaires filled with thought-provoking questions to spark conversation and deepen connection. It felt important during a time when so many people felt isolated. I’ve always been more interested in depth than chit chat.
One night, I decided to take it a step further and record one of those “Google Docs-turned-Real Talks” on GarageBand. No microphones or mixers, just raw dialogue recorded on one mono channel.
That became the seed for “Friends x Strangers” (FxS), a platform built around the tension between the familiar and the unfamiliar. Production has begun and the first installments will be released later this Summer.
After a 3.5-year hiatus, I returned to education in 2023, but at the high school level.
Today, music, community, and education are finally converging. They keep bumping into each other, and that’s an amazing feeling. Whether I’m in a classroom, a club, or a studio, I am still doing the same thing: creating spaces where people feel seen.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
I probably don’t look like what I’ve been through. I love a good challenge, but the road hasn’t been smooth. A personal hurdle for me is “casual complacency,” letting comfort or familiarity keep me in spaces too long. When Darnell’s closed in 2018, I realized I had momentum but no plan for what was next. That moment became a catalyst for how I approach my brand today.
I also battle the creative’s curse: convincing myself an idea isn’t ready for execution until every detail is exactly how I envision it. That perfectionism is a blind spot I have to be mindful of. More recently, grieving the passing of my grandmother has been a profound challenge. Especially as I am weaving so much of what I learned from her into something real. She is the seed and the soil for all of this, and her absence is felt in every project I touch. Shoutout to the strong friends who remember to check on other strong friends.
Staying encouraged as an entrepreneur in the early stages is tough; every pothole teaches you something different. But some of the detours led me to the most meaningful destinations. It’s better to have tried and fallen short than to let your dreams live forever in the Notes app on your iPhone.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
What I do has honestly evolved alongside who I’ve become. Professionally, I work in education at the high school level, primarily focused on culture, connection, mentorship, and creating environments where young people feel supported and seen. Creatively, I’m a DJ, artist/curator, creative strategist, host, and community builder. One of my more recent, memorable affirmations happened in August 2024 and August 2025. Towards the end of my first year at my current school, I was unexpectedly invited in to meet with a few School Administrators. They wanted a plan for building a stronger rapport earlier in the year, and increasing student interest and engagement. I was invited to collaborate and quickly offered my thoughts. I suggested having music at the Main Entrance of the building, also offering my DJ services and a brief explanation of the benefits. After some consideration, they decided to book me to DJ for the students during their arrival on the first day of school. After seeing the success of the initial event, they decided to run it back a second time at the start of this current school year. Planning for the student celebration, and hosting a “DJ in the Atrium” has now been integrated and added to our school’s pre-week planning schedule for years to come.
Most of my work exists at the intersection of music, art, intentional experiences, culture, and human connection.
I’m probably best known for the energy I bring to rooms, and an ability to create atmosphere and emotional resonance. Whether it’s DJing a brunch or a baby shower, facilitating a conversation, building a brand, curating a mix, or simply putting people together in a room. I’m assertive and observant. I pay attention to how things feel. I think people remember experiences long after they forget specifics, so I’ve always approached my work with intentionality and emotional awareness. What I’m most proud of is the community I’ve built and those that i’ve been a part of for so long. organically. Just consistency, authenticity, and showing up for people over time. I’ve been fortunate enough to impact people across classrooms, clubs, creative spaces, and personal conversations.
I think what sets me apart is my personal approach to anything I pour into. maybe? A lasting impact is more important than a first impression. Just like a legacy is greater than I’ve never been interested in simply being seen or known of. I realized that my energy attracts, but also sometimes disarms people. So in those moments, I not only want people feel seen, but also felt.
I feel like most people know how to plan an event. Some people also have a talent for planning, organizing, marketing and hosting. I personally think there’s a chance to add another layer. In my planning, So my process involves brainstorming how whatever i’m working on will land within the people supporting it. I like coming up with new ways to foster authentic, organic and genuine connections through community. That’s always been something that mattered to me and it just happens to be the throughline in my work.
We all have a different way of looking at and defining success. How do you define success?
“Success is in the eye of the beholder”, ha. It’s subjective, to me. It’s so dope when that idea in your iPhone Notes App, grows into a moment or an experience, that grabs somebody’s attention. For most of us, just starting something and finishing it is success. I feel successful when I can gauge my impact, whether directly or indirectly. Sharing a creative or innovative concept or idea feels great. Closing a deal feels amazing as well. But the measure of the impact from my input, or idea, or involvement determines how successful I am. I want to be recognized for my intentionality in all of my efforts, actions and/or accomplishments. Now, if you want to take it a step further, and go a little deeper? My ultimate success will be when I can come up with a practical process and a predictable plan, that integrates my purpose, and is aligned with my path. Now that’s bars. My definition has changed drastically over time, but my relationship with it hasn’t. I have always had a strong sense of self, and never hid my assuredness. We become unstoppable once we no longer need or seek external validation.
Sometimes, “success” is whatever I need it to be to navigate the forest in front of me. But each small win counts toward the ultimate goal.
I don’t use the word “failure.” I’m familiar with the feeling, but I don’t live there. Nothing is over until it’s over, which means there is always an opportunity to succeed in whatever season you’re in. The story isn’t finished just because a chapter got challenging. I’m always growing. Always.
My room for improvement has a skylight and marble floors.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @RyanMNorris
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheRyanMNorris
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ryan-m-norris
- Youtube: @RyanMNorris.mp4
- Soundcloud: https://www.soundcloud.com/theRyanMNorris
