FULL SPECTRUM HEMP OIL

Article photo

When I was a girl, sports didn’t just give me confidence — they gave me a voice.

On the court, on the field, and in the huddle, I learned how to speak up, how to lead, and how to trust my instincts. Sports taught me how to navigate pressure, build resilience, and believe in my ability to rise — not just in competition, but in life. That voice, first shaped through the rhythms of practice and play, has carried me ever since.

Today, I use that voice in rooms far beyond the gym. It’s taken me from grassroots nonprofits to boardrooms, from locker rooms to conference stages. It’s allowed me to lead cross-sector initiatives that drive equity, justice, and real impact in communities across the country.

I’m Joneé Billy — a social impact strategist, speaker, and advocate for girls and women in sports. My life’s work is centered on a simple but powerful idea: access matters. And when we create access — to resources, to opportunity, to leadership — we create lasting change.

Throughout my career, I’ve built programs that don’t just check boxes; they change lives. I’ve designed youth empowerment initiatives that help young people not only participate, but thrive. I’ve secured corporate sponsorships that go beyond writing checks and instead form true partnerships rooted in shared values. I’ve worked with stakeholders across sectors — private, public, and nonprofit — to craft equity-focused strategies that turn big ideas into measurable outcomes.

Now, I’m bringing that experience to the CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility) and social impact space with a vision grounded in three pillars: storytelling, partnerships, and purpose.

  • Storytelling, because narratives shape how we see one another — and ourselves.
  • Partnerships, because no one drives change alone.
  • Purpose, because the work is too important to be anything less than intentional.

I believe deeply in the power of business to do good, and the power of sports to move culture forward. My work sits right at that intersection — where mission meets strategy, where community meets capital, where impact meets innovation.

Whether I’m on a stage speaking about the importance of inclusive leadership, or behind the scenes aligning stakeholders to create meaningful, community-centered programs, I lead with passion, precision, and purpose.

At the end of the day, I’m still that young girl who found her voice on the court — only now, I use it to make sure others can find theirs too.

I wasn’t the best player on the team — not even close. I used to hang back, hoping someone else would take the lead. But that day, something shifted. We were behind. Tired. Losing. And our coach looked at me and said, “You’ve got this.”

That was the first time I believed I did.
I didn’t score the winning point or make a perfect play. What I did was take the shot — one I normally would’ve passed off to someone else.

And even though we didn’t win that game, something changed in me.

That moment taught me what power really feels like — not loud or flashy, but quiet, steady, and brave.

Too many girls grow up thinking they have to wait for someone to hand them permission — to lead, to speak up, to take a shot. But I’m here to say: you don’t need permission. You need opportunity. You need people who see you. Coaches, mentors, teammates, family — people who remind you that your voice and your presence matter.

That single play didn’t make me a star. But it made me feel seen. And when girls feel seen, they start to shine.

I carry that with me into every room I speak in — reminding young girls and women that power doesn’t come from perfection. It comes from courage. From showing up. From trying when it’s easier not to.

So to every girl reading this:
Your first moment of power might look small. It might be messy. But it will be yours. And it will shape who you become.