Daily Inspiration: Meet Noah White

Today we’d like to introduce you to Noah White.

Hi Noah, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I was born and raised in Modesto, California, a small city in the Central Valley. Growing up, there wasn’t much access to the industries and professions that I was interested in, especially modeling. Most people my age were working what many would consider “normal jobs.” We were servers, baristas, retail workers, car wash workers, and employees at just about every fast-food chain you could think of. Truthfully, I was one of them. I worked retail. I worked fast food. I understood the value of hard work and earning a paycheck, but even then I knew that wasn’t the life I envisioned for myself long term. There was always something in my spirit telling me there was more out there for me. Not more in value, but different. I wanted to create. I wanted to tell stories. I wanted to model.

The challenge was that I had no roadmap for how to get there because I didn’t see anyone around me doing it. At the time, I didn’t have the network to get into those spaces and neither did my family. My parents didn’t have the means to get me to castings across the country, let alone throughout California. Truthfully, I didn’t even see modeling for myself because I never saw anyone around me doing it. I saw it in magazines, campaigns, and on social media, but not in the environment I grew up in.

Before I landed on modeling, I had a lot of different dreams. At one point I wanted to be a civil rights lawyer. Then I wanted to become an exotic animal veterinarian and a zoologist. Funny enough, those passions still exist today. Growing up, I spent a lot of my time raising and rehabilitating exotic animals, and while I ultimately decided that veterinary medicine wasn’t the path I wanted to pursue professionally, I still plan to work within the animal industry on a smaller scale one day. But through all of that back and forth, one thing remained constant: I loved being in front of a camera.

I was a very audacious and confident child growing up, so anytime there was a camera nearby, I was ready to hit a pose. Whether it was family photos, selfies, stealing my mom’s phone to take pictures of myself, or posting collages on Instagram, 12-year-old Noah loved showing his face. What I didn’t know at the time was that something I simply enjoyed would eventually become the foundation for a career.

A huge reason for that is my sister, Haylee Ayers, who is a professional photographer and one of the most creative people I know. She always kept me in front of the camera, but she also taught me how to see the world creatively from behind it. I would tag along with her to photoshoots for friends, colleagues, and clients, and naturally we started creating our own. Sometimes we’d simply be driving around town and stumble upon a location that felt like the perfect photo opportunity. We’d pull over, grab the camera, and create. It didn’t matter if it was an alleyway, an empty field, a colorful wall, or a random street corner. We always saw where we lived as an opportunity to create something beautiful.

From backyard photoshoots that lasted from sun up to sun down to spontaneous shoots around Modesto, those moments became some of my favorite memories growing up. My sister taught me that creativity wasn’t something you waited for, it was something you made space for. More importantly, she taught me to align myself with people, opportunities, and work that felt warm to my spirit. She always believed in me, even before I fully believed in myself. She sharpened me, challenged me, encouraged me, and truly allowed me the freedom to simply exist as myself. The confidence and audacity that people see in me today didn’t happen by accident. My sister laid that foundation, and without her, I genuinely don’t think I would be the person I am today.

When COVID happened and time was all I had, I found myself consuming art nonstop. I was inspired by photographers, models, creators, and even the social justice movements unfolding around the country. It pushed me to create. I started taking self-portraits with my phone and experimenting with storytelling through imagery, and that passion only continued to grow.

Then I moved to Atlanta, Georgia to attend Morehouse College, and from the moment I arrived, modeling was at the forefront of my mind. I knew there was a market here. I knew there were opportunities here. Most importantly, I knew I had to take advantage of them.

I auditioned for The AUC Agency my freshman year. I didn’t make it my first semester, but I came back and auditioned again in the spring and earned my place within the organization. Looking back, that moment changed everything.

Under the leadership of Morehouse College Class of 2024’s Ethan Bullips and Spelman College’s Leah Scatterman, I truly developed and marinated as a model. They helped me grow not only professionally but personally. I still vividly remember approaching Leah during training and introducing myself.

“Hey, I’m Noah White. I’m a freshman and I wanted to know if you had any tips or advice for me.”

She responded, “Umm, you really just need to look like you want to be here. You know, you don’t have to look mean or have a mug, but show face and show that you’re here and you want to be here and have fun.”

From that point forward, I made sure I approached everything with intention. Whether it was modeling, leadership, networking, or life itself, I wanted people to know that I was present, grateful to be there, and willing to do the work.

Throughout my four years at Morehouse, I remained active in The AUC Agency and eventually became one of the organization’s most recognizable faces. I opened and closed shows, appeared on organizational flyers, participated in photoshoots, and was selected for outside opportunities. Though it was a collegiate organization, I knew I was being watched and evaluated, and I treated every opportunity like a professional one.

My first major opportunity outside of the organization came during my sophomore year when I booked the Spring 2024 campaign for LHP, founded by Howard University graduate Tahir Murray. Not only did I gain a professional opportunity, but I gained family. That experience reinforced something I had already begun to realize: I couldn’t solely depend on organizational connections to build my career. I had to become my own agent.

From modeling for my Clark Atlanta brother Jivon Cole’s brand “NOVIJLAFLARE” to working with Kuan Jackson( Clark Atlanta University Class of 2027) for his brand “PERFIK CIRCO”, to continuing to work alongside my brother Tahir Murray and “LHP”, just to name a few, many of my opportunities came from simply reaching out. A DM. A cold email. A referral. A flyer I saw on Instagram. Asking someone to keep me in mind for a future campaign. Because I didn’t grow up with access to the industry, I knew I would have to build my own network from the ground up.

Through the yeses and the noes, through unanswered emails, through seasons where I wasn’t getting booked and seasons where I was, through an immense amount of support and even through people who attempted to blacklist me, I remained committed to the vision I had for myself. I often call it “working my set”, continuing to show up, continuing to do the work, and continuing to trust myself regardless of who was watching.

Today, I am still pursuing agency representation, but I am incredibly proud of the journey. From a kid in Modesto who couldn’t quite see modeling for himself to a Morehouse graduate actively building a career in the industry, my story has been one of persistence, creativity, faith, and refusing to let my environment determine what was possible for my future.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
It has been far from a smooth road. In many ways, it has been uncertain, stagnant at times, and incredibly fiery. Of course there were seasons where I wasn’t booking work, but those periods gave me time to reflect, work on myself internally, and focus on my studies. I always kept in mind that I came to Morehouse to earn a degree first and foremost. At the same time, I knew Atlanta was going to be my home for four years, and I wanted to take advantage of every opportunity available to me. I nurtured my academic career, but I also nurtured my professional one because I knew my life and my career would continue long after I walked across the stage at graduation.

Some of the challenges I experienced weren’t always the kind people immediately think of when they hear the word struggle. A lot of what I navigated wasn’t about uncertainty within myself, but about how my identity challenged others. My femininity, my masculinity, my gayness, and even my Blackness shaped by growing up in California sometimes unsettled expectations people had about who I was supposed to be. For me, those parts of my identity were never the challenge. They were things I learned to protect.

One thing I carried with me throughout my time at Morehouse was a certain level of audacity. It’s something I developed early in childhood while navigating bullying, homophobia, and racism. Learning how to stand firmly in myself was never optional, it was survival. By the time I arrived at Morehouse, that audacity was already a deep part of who I was. Throughout my matriculation, I could feel that some students, faculty, and even alumni believed I needed to make myself smaller or take up less space as a gay student. But shrinking myself was never what got me there.

As my visibility grew both within The AUC Agency and outside of it, I began experiencing hostility that often felt tied to my confidence, my identity, and my growing presence. There were moments where opportunities I had been encouraged to pursue did not materialize in the ways I expected. There were moments where I experienced homophobia, internalized homophobia, harassment, and comparisons to others because of how I presented as a gay man. Some of those experiences came from outside of LGBTQIA+ spaces, while others came from within them. It taught me that not every space that calls itself inclusive always knows how to support everyone equally.

Another struggle woven throughout my journey was navigating grief while simultaneously trying to understand the social and cultural spaces that existed around me. Coming to Morehouse was transformative, but it was also deeply unfamiliar. I was not raised closely connected to my Black side of the family, nor was I immersed in LGBTQIA+ communities growing up. As a result, many of the social dynamics, cultural expectations, and experiences I encountered felt entirely new to me.

At the same time that I was processing grief and personal challenges, I was also trying to make sense of the environment around me. Often, I did not have the emotional or mental capacity to fully understand what was happening while I was living through it. There were moments when I struggled to determine whether I was reacting to the ways certain individuals treated me and the situations I found myself in because of how I identified and presented myself, or whether leaving those spaces altogether would be better for my wellbeing.

I remember talking to my sister and my cousin during my sophomore year and trying to explain how heavy everything felt. I could see myself moving through my environment and interacting with people around me, but I didn’t feel present inside those moments. It felt like I was watching a reflection of myself exist rather than actually experiencing my own life in real time. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what was happening. I just knew I wasn’t okay.

For a long time, I felt emotionless in ways that were unfamiliar to me. Looking back now, I understand that my body was trying to process everything I was carrying while still continuing to show up every day. That uncertainty was one of the most difficult parts of my experience. It required an immense amount of self-reflection, emotional regulation, and self-awareness. I had to learn how to trust myself even when I did not yet have all the answers. Looking back, I realize that my self-control became one of my greatest strengths. It allowed me to pause, assess situations carefully, and remain grounded even when I felt overwhelmed.

While my own resilience carried me through many of those moments, I did not do it alone. My loved ones who showed up for me when I needed support, offered perspective when I felt lost, and reminded me that there were brighter days ahead. Their presence, combined with my growing self-awareness, became a saving grace. Together, those experiences taught me that strength is not only about enduring difficult circumstances alone. Sometimes strength is knowing when to lean on others, when to ask questions, and when to give yourself grace while finding your way forward.

Over time, those experiences completely reshaped how I understood persistence. Continuing to show up in spaces where I wasn’t always immediately understood was never about proving something to anyone else. It was about remaining honest with myself and protecting the parts of me that made me who I am.

More than anything, those challenges taught me how to trust my discernment. They taught me how to keep moving forward when recognition didn’t immediately follow effort and how to stay grounded in myself even when navigating misunderstanding. I learned that confidence is something you protect rather than something you wait to be given.

By the time I reached my senior year, I realized many of the challenges I experienced were also the moments that helped me become more grounded, more intentional, and more certain about who I am. Today, I can honestly say that those experiences strengthened me. They taught me resilience, sharpened my self-awareness, and reinforced my belief that I never needed permission to take up space. They prepared me not only for life beyond Morehouse, but for the person I am continuing to become.

Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m Noah White, and I’m a valley boy from the West, a real nigga above all.

Hair has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My mother has been a cosmetologist for most of my life, and I’ve been doing hair since childhood. I currently specialize in natural hair and will be attending cosmetology school to become a licensed cosmetologist. While natural hair will always be my foundation, I look forward to expanding my skill set and growing within the beauty industry.

Alongside cosmetology, I continue to pursue modeling professionally and am actively working toward agency representation. Much of my work, whether through modeling, athletics, activism, or creative projects, has always been personal to me. There’s usually a deeper story connected to the work I choose to do.

What I’m most proud of is my resilience and my commitment to remain firm within myself. There were times when the road in front of me felt like it was burning, but I kept walking anyway. Through every challenge, I’ve remained committed to my values, my identity, and the goals I’ve set for myself.

What sets me apart is my integrity and intentionality. Whether it’s personal or professional, I believe in standing on what’s right, advocating for myself and others, and showing up authentically. As much as I say yes, which is few, a no is soon to follow. Discernment, boundaries, and staying true to myself have been just as important to my success as ambition

We’d be interested to hear your thoughts on luck and what role, if any, you feel it’s played for you?
Honestly, luck, good or bad, has not played a role in my life or career. What has played a role is grit, determination, self-advocacy, and what I often call “working my set.” Nothing I’ve accomplished came from waiting around for the right opportunity to fall into my lap. It came from showing up, being consistent, sending the email, making the call, introducing myself, and continuing to move forward even when doors didn’t immediately open.

More than anything, I believe abundance comes from remaining honest, compassionate, and standing in integrity. Throughout my life, I’ve experienced homophobia, racism, alienation, and people trying to dictate how I should exist. I could have allowed those experiences to make me bitter, but instead they taught me how important it is to lead with empathy and understanding rather than judgement and ridicule.

Because I’ve been on the receiving end of those experiences, I’ve made a conscious effort not to become a product of them. I try to move through both my personal and professional life with compassion for others while remaining honest with myself. I firmly believe that when you operate with integrity and treat people well, abundance will find its way to you. That’s been far more valuable to me than luck ever could be.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/noahacacias
• LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/noah-white
• Twitter: https://x.com/noahsnovel?