Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Who's Amazing Life early and ad-free right now.
Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or Wondery Kids Plus on Apple Podcasts.
From Wondery, I'm Ace Anderson, and this is Who's Amazing Life.
You've heard of people who changed the course of history, but before they made their mark on the world, they were people like you and me, still trying to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives.
On this episode, you will be that person everyone knows.
You might be a musician, or an athlete, a scientist, or a painter.
You may know what the person accomplished later in life, but now you can experience everything they faced along the way.
From challenges and heartbreak to triumphs and excitement.
All the moments that built this person into someone who would change the world.
There will be clues, so pay attention.
But only in the end will you find out who you are.
So sit back and imagine your amazing life as The Competitor.
Imagine you're running through a bamboo forest when suddenly you catch a glimpse of another ninja, clad all in red.
It's your rival.
He's keeping pace with you on the other side of the tree line.
You lock eyes, but the moment you blink, he's gone.
You scan your surroundings.
Everything is completely still.
You can hear your heart pounding, but you fight to stay calm.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
Where is he?
Where is... There!
Your eyes snap open just in time to dodge a super-fast ninja attack.
You spin down low and land a strike right to his chest, knocking him back.
Now, it's time for your special move.
Your 360 spinning jump kick.
You're ready to launch high into the air when... You open your eyes and see a world of green.
But you aren't in a bamboo forest.
You're in the schoolyard, lying face down in the grass.
You roll over and look up at the group of kids who pushed you.
They tower above you, laughing.
Did you really think you could play near us?
You don't belong here.
Why would you think you're good enough?
They leave you on the ground and run off together as you rub the dirt and grass off your face.
You may only be six years old, but you're no stranger to bullying.
You're one of only three kids of color at school.
And on top of all that, you're pretty small.
You clench your hands into fists and shake with frustration.
You're tired of feeling like you don't fit in.
You take a deep breath and think about your hero, Bruce Lee, the greatest martial arts fighter of all time.
You love his movies.
Bruce Lee fights enemies who are bigger than he is all the time.
He's so fast and so confident.
If only you had the same confidence, maybe the bigger kids wouldn't try to push you around so much.
You convince your dad to let you take karate lessons so you can learn to be just like Bruce Lee.
He finds a dojo in your neighborhood and today is your first lesson.
You line up next to the other kids and eagerly await instruction from your sensei.
Finally, you're in a real dojo learning karate and it is so, so boring.
How many times do you have to work on the same punches over and over again?
Where's the good stuff?
The fun stuff?
The flashy stuff?
Keep practicing.
I'll be coming around for individual adjustments.
Oh, good.
Even more punching.
You keep at it.
Although your hands become a little looser and your punches a bit lazier with each strike.
It's not like anyone will notice.
Someone looks a bit bored.
It's Sensei.
Of course he noticed.
Well, there's no hiding it now.
I want to practice cool moves.
Like Bruce Lee.
You're a fan of Bruce Lee, hmm?
Yeah, there's nobody like him.
That's true.
But skills like that didn't happen overnight.
Even he had to train and master the basics.
It may be boring at first, but mastering a simple punch, making sure that your punch is the best it can be, that takes discipline.
Discipline.
You've never heard that word before.
What's discipline?
It's when you decide to do hard work and stick to it, especially when it's not easy.
It's how we build strength and confidence.
Strength.
Confidence.
That's why you came to karate in the first place.
You nod your head determined.
If you're going to stand up for yourself, it's going to take discipline.
I have discipline.
Good.
Go on then.
Show me a strong punch.
You jab out a punch with all your might, letting out a powerful yell.
Now that feels strong.
That feels confident.
That feels like the version of you you want to share with the world.
You keep thinking about that new word, discipline.
Working hard and sticking to it.
Actually, that sounds just like your dad.
He puts all of his effort into every single thing he does, including building and fixing up the radio-controlled cars you love to play with.
These aren't just tiny little toy cars.
Your RC car is about the size of a shoebox and you love everything about it.
You love the feel of the huge controller in your hands.
You love racing the car down the hallways of your house.
And most of all, you love that it lets you spend time with your dad.
He works four different jobs just so your family has enough money.
He's really busy, but he always makes time to help you with your car.
He knows you struggle to fit in at school, but he sees the way your face lights up when you're racing.
That's why he found a local racing club for you to join.
You'll be able to take your radio-controlled car to the miniature track and race against the other racers.
You're excited to show off your car and your skills on the track.
It's a Sunday morning, your first day at the racing club.
As you and your dad walk around, you notice how much bigger everyone is than you.
In fact, you don't see a single other kid there.
All of the other racers are adults!
You clutch your RC car tightly to your chest, Are you really about to compete against adults?
These people have been racing for years.
One of the adults starts making his way towards you.
You nervously duck behind your dad's leg.
This your first time at the club?
It sure is.
This is my son.
He's very excited to race.
Well, we're excited to have you, fella.
Let's get you something sturdy to stand on so you can see a bit better.
The man finds a pair of milk crates for you to stand on so you can see the track.
Your dad places your car behind the starting line with all the other cars.
Everyone turns their attention towards the starter, who holds a checkered flag ready to start the race.
Your sweaty palms force you to keep readjusting your grip on the controller.
You're anxious, but at the same time there's something thrilling about seeing your car out there next to everyone else's.
This is really happening.
Your first race is about to begin.
The starter raises the flag and then... Three, two, one, go!
You're off.
All the cars speed out at the same time.
It's complete chaos, but your eyes are locked onto the red blur that is your car.
Your thumbs fly across your remote control, maneuvering it to break away from the crowd.
You hug a turn and start gaining on some of the faster cars.
What would it feel like to actually win?
You have to know.
You jam your thumbs against the acceleration stick, willing the car to go faster faster faster, until The race is over.
And Well, you didn't win this time.
But you're not upset.
In fact, your heart is still pounding with excitement.
If this is the thrill of competition, you want more.
You look around at the adults collecting their race cars off the track.
They're all just as excited as you.
A few of them even give you a thumbs up.
It's clear that you and all of these adults share the same competitive spirit and love of the race.
And even though you're the only kid here, you feel a sense of belonging.
But off the track, you still feel excluded, especially at school.
Your classmates are picking teams for soccer, and you really wanna play.
There's only one other boy who hasn't been chosen yet.
One of the team captains points to the other kid.
I want him on my team.
Great, looks like all the teams are squared up.
Let's get started.
As all of the other kids make their way onto the pitch, you are left behind watching from the sidelines.
They picked everyone but you.
You shake your head.
This is what always happens.
They never pick you.
But this time, you're not going to stay silent.
Hey, we're not finished choosing teams.
Which team am I on?
The team captains turn around and sneer at you.
We chose everyone we want to play with.
No one wants you on their team.
Yeah, get lost.
You don't look like us, so we don't want you to play with us.
We don't like you.
Your face turns hot as you hold back your anger and your tears.
You can't let them see you cry, so you look away.
The only reason you've been left on the sidelines is because of the color of your skin.
You're the only black kid out on the pitch.
You see it now, so clearly.
You're never going to fit in with them.
And honestly, you don't even want to anymore.
You already have a place where you fit in and feel happy.
The RC track.
You and your dad sit in the open trunk of his car, your feet swinging off the back bumper.
The two of you happily munch on your celebratory bacon sandwiches.
You've been RC racing for almost a year now, and today you made it onto the winner's podium for the first time.
You glance over at the trophy sitting next to you.
It's a brilliant silver cup as big as your forearm, and you can't believe it's yours.
It makes you feel incredible.
And brave enough to talk to your dad about something that's been on your mind lately.
I want to drive a real race car one day.
Oh?
What brought this on?
I want to feel what it's like to be the one racing around the track.
I bet I'd be faster than anyone else.
Hmm.
Tell you what.
If you really want to race, we can look into what it would take to get you started with karting.
You look up at your dad, jaw dropped.
You didn't think he would say yes so quickly, because karting is definitely next level.
Karts are practically real cars.
If we do this, it'll take far more practice, and it'll be hard.
We probably won't look like everyone else, or have the same level of resources as everyone else.
It might be hard to fit in there.
I'll just win, and then the other racers will be the ones trying to fit in with me.
If that's how you feel, I'll look into the cost and see what kind of gear you might need.
It's not going to be cheap, but...
Maybe I can pick up some extra work to cover it.
But if I do this, you've got to work hard.
There's no need to hesitate.
You already know you're going to do it.
Because you belong on the track.
You belong behind the wheel of a race car.
You belong in the winner's circle.
When you win, you'll show the kids at school and anyone who doubted you just how capable you are.
It's two days after your eighth birthday, and you've just arrived at a kart racing track.
You and your dad pull up in your family's beat-up camper van your kart hanging halfway out the open trunk.
As you unload your kart, you beam at its transformation.
It's a fifth-hand kart, and your parents worked hard to save up for it.
Your dad fixed it up and even painted it to make it look as new as possible.
Of course, no one would ever confuse it for a brand new kart, but to you it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
But the people at the racetrack aren't looking at you and your dad with the same admiration.
They're gawking at you like you've crash-landed from another planet.
You two are the only black people in the paddocks, and you can feel their eyes on you.
One of the other racers' dads blurts out, Are you certain you're in the right place?
I'm certain.
My son is here for a practice run in his new car.
That thing is new?
It's new to us, at least.
Just like all of this.
Your dad gestures towards the track.
That's when you see it.
The other kids' carts.
Their racing suits.
Everything looks expensive and new.
It's clear that most of these other racers have something you don't.
Money.
Your mind starts spinning.
Your dad warned you about this, and you start to wonder.
Will all of the work you and your dad did even make a difference?
Everyone else is already miles ahead.
Your mouth goes dry.
You gulp.
Maybe you don't belong here.
Dad, maybe we should... Son, we're here for you to have a go on the track.
Get out there and drive.
Your dad's right.
You can't get intimidated before your wheels even touch the track.
You nod at him, take a deep breath, and climb into the car.
The steering wheel rumbles underneath your palms.
You tense your muscles, sensing the resistance of your tires against the asphalt.
The car rips around the track at blazing speeds, but from behind the wheel, you're able to tame this wild machine.
You feel strong.
Confident.
Fast.
Oh yeah, this is definitely where you're meant to be.
You spend all of your free time at the karting track.
Like all new drivers, you start off with black license plates on your cart to let everyone know that you're a novice.
But after winning six first place novice trophies, you move up to yellow plates and earn a chance to race against the older, more experienced kids.
But some of the other racers don't appreciate the challenge you pose.
They come up to you after races and get in your face, trying to intimidate and scare you away from racing entirely.
And it's not just them.
Their parents yell things too, about how you aren't welcome and should just quit.
You try not to show it, but their words hurt.
Your dad tries asking the other parents for tips, hoping to build a sense of camaraderie like you had at the RC racing club.
But people here don't even acknowledge him.
If it's just you and your dad against everyone else, can you really break through and prove that you belong here?
You are sitting in your cart on the track, waiting for instructions from your dad.
Today, the two of you are practicing turns.
No one will give your dad any advice.
So instead he devised a special type of practice all on his own.
He walks along the inside of the circuit and stops when he gets to the hairpin turn at the far end of the track.
Dominating the turns is incredibly important to winning races.
If you can keep your speed up while rounding a corner, that's when you can make your move and pass the other racers.
One of the keys to taking corners quickly is making sure you delay hitting your brakes for as long as possible.
After watching to see exactly where one of the fastest racers in your division starts his braking, your dad's marked that spot exactly.
In fact, he's moved the mark a few meters past it.
He waves over to you.
This is the spot.
You've got to hit your brakes here.
From your cart, you sigh deeply.
There's no way you can break that late without spinning out.
But you trust your dad.
He hasn't steered you wrong thus far.
You slam on your acceleration and approach the curve.
You slam on your brakes and try to hug the corner, but You completely spin out, just like you thought you would.
Your dad has to know this isn't going to work.
He walks over to you.
Come on, try it again.
You slam your fist against the steering wheel.
I can't brake this late.
I can't do this.
Stop that.
You can do this because I know my son.
You want to show everyone who you are?
You show them on the track.
You look up at your dad.
You can see in his eyes just how much he believes in you, how much he trusts you, how much he sacrificed for you to be able to do this.
He's only pushing you because he knows one day you'll be able to keep up.
So you take a deep breath and try again.
Break practice isn't easy, but slowly you start to improve.
Just like perfecting a punch in karate, this is a new skill that can be mastered through hard work and discipline.
You spend as much time as you can on the track, practicing racing and developing a better feel for your cart.
All of your hard work helps you see that the track isn't just a place where you could fit in.
It's a place where maybe one day you can even stand out.
Your second racing season is remarkable.
You are only 10 years old, but you excel, winning race after race.
The victories are exciting, but they don't solve the fact that racing is expensive.
Your dad continues working extra jobs in order to upgrade your equipment.
Every bit helps, but you start to wonder how long you can scrape by before having to call it quits.
How much can your family afford to sacrifice for your dream of becoming a professional race car driver?
You help your dad carry cans of paint into the shed behind your house.
Tomorrow, you'll be racing in the 1995 British Kart Racing Championship.
If you win, he'll be the youngest British kart champion ever.
Your dad knows you need to look the part, so he's painting your racing helmet himself.
Your dad sprays your helmet yellow, a color he picked so he could easily spot you out on the track.
You know son, this is a very exclusive sport and it only becomes more exclusive as you get closer and closer to the top tier in racing Formula One.
You nod.
This is exactly what you've been worrying about.
I know it feels like the odds are against you because we don't have the same resources as the other drivers.
But that's not true, son.
Everything you need is already within you.
You've got grit and discipline.
You'll just have to show them that there's more than one way to make it to the top.
Your dad sets down the paint. and picks up a brush and starts to paint on the other colors.
Let this helmet remind you of that.
There.
How's it look?
You look at the brilliant yellow helmet sitting on the workbench.
It has blue, green, and red stripes that make a cool halo around the top.
You picture yourself in your cart, the colors blazing around the track.
You can't help but smile.
It's awesome.
You may not have what they have, but we've got something better.
We've got something nobody's ever seen.
He looks right in your eyes.
We've got you behind the wheel.
Your dad's faith in you makes your whole body buzz with excitement.
You feel your confidence growing.
You know you have what it takes to win.
You walk towards your cart, your brightly painted helmet in your hand.
This is it.
The biggest race of your life.
The 1995 British Kart Racing Championship.
As you survey the other karts, you spot Mike Conway, one of the wealthiest racers in your division.
For a quick second, feelings of jealousy and doubt flood your mind again.
You wonder if you really do have the skills to close the gap between you and someone like Mike.
You look over at the sidelines and see your dad.
He nods at you.
You look down at your helmet and see yourself in the reflection of the visor.
That's the difference, you think.
You're the difference.
Who cares about Mike's background?
You're both in the championship race.
You're both competing.
You earned your way here on the track.
No, you're not him.
You're you.
And today, you've got to believe that's enough to win.
You slide your helmet on and climb into your cart.
Racers set.
You break away from the crowd, but you're still stuck directly behind Mike.
It's tense, but you remember to breathe and stay calm.
He's a great racer, and he's not giving you an inch.
You have to be patient and wait for your moment.
Your eyes lock onto the hairpin turn just ahead.
This is where you can make your move.
If you can just get past him on the next turn, you could win this race.
As you approach the turn, your foot hovers above the brake pedal.
You wait.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Now you hit the brake at the last second.
You go sliding past mike on the inside of the curve.
You whip your car around and go straight through, your speed increasing faster faster, faster.
You see a tire bouncing away.
That's it, it's over.
There's no recovering from something like that.
But then you pull past and speed away as Mike's car skids to a stop.
The tire was his.
You want to know what happened, but there's no time for that because the rest of the racers are still hot on your trail.
But up ahead, there's no one between you and the finish line.
Forget fitting in.
You're breaking away.
You may as well be the only one left on the track.
The world melts away as you think back to your first practice lap.
You hear the voices of those parents and kids telling you to quit of the bullies who say they don't want to play with you.
Then you hear your dad's voice.
Son, get out there and drive.
You want to show everyone who you are?
Show them on the track.
We may not have what they have, but we've got something better.
We've got you behind the wheels.
This is your track.
This is your race.
This is your moment and you're going to win.
You see the finish line getting closer and closer until finally you cross it.
You did it.
You've won.
A few months later you attend the 1995 Autosports Awards ceremony as the youngest ever British kart racing champion.
It's here that you first meet Ron Dennis, the owner of the McLaren F1 team, and boldly declare that you want to drive his F1 car someday.
He smiles and tells you that he'll work something out as long as you keep on winning.
Over the next three years, you do just that, winning championship after championship.
And Ron Dennis stays true to his word.
He signs you to the McLaren Mercedes Young Driver Support Program when you're just 13 years old.
This is everything you and your dad have been working towards.
You get full financial and mechanical support from McLaren, which means you and your family can turn your full attention towards racing.
Over the next nine years, you continue moving up through the racing classes.
Eventually, you join McLaren's F1 team, becoming the first black F1 driver at age 22.
Your rookie season is unlike any other.
You come close to winning the whole Grand Prix, coming in second by only one point.
It's completely unheard of for a rookie.
In your second season, you win the 2008 Brazilian Grand Prix, making you the youngest Formula One world champion in history.
Your success in F1 continues.
You win F1 World Drivers Championship titles and you hold the record for the most wins, pole positions and podium finishes.
You even get knighted by Prince Charles, but you're still the only black F1 driver and you're done with only doing your talking on the track.
You speak out about racial injustice spurred by the George Floyd protests in 2020, and you start a foundation to make sure that kids from diverse backgrounds are able to pursue careers in motorsports.
Your father helped you overcome so many barriers to get to where you are and you aim to remove those barriers for future generations through your charitable foundations, the Hamilton Commission and Mission 44.
Because of the life you've lived.
You want everyone to know that being different isn't just okay.
It's something to be embraced.
You are the greatest race car driver to ever get behind the wheel of a Formula One race car.
You are Lewis Hamilton.
If you like Who's Amazing Life, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondry Plus in the Wondry app or on Apple Podcasts.
Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music.
Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondry.com slash survey.
From Wondery, this is Who's Amazing Life.
This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details.
While we can't know exactly what was said, we use many sources when researching our stories.
Some that were particularly helpful include My Story, The Lewis Hamilton Autobiography, Vanity Fair and The Wondery, and an interview with Gayle King for the 92nd Street Y.
I'm your host, Ace Anderson.
This episode was written by Minzui Karami.
Our producers are Olivia Richard and Jennifer Klein.
Sound design by Jamie Cooper.
Additional audio assistance by Sergio Enriquez.
Desi Blaylock is our coordinating producer.
Story editing by Alyssa Adams.
Matt Gant is our managing producer.
Our senior managing producer is Ryan Lohr.
Jenny Bloom and Megan Begala are our senior producers.
Executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman, Stephanie Jens, and Marshall Louis for Wondery.
