Meet Jason
Hi. I'm glad you're here.
The dog you see with me is Lily. She's our Australian Labradoodle and the Chief Happiness Officer of J-POP Strategies. She'll show up more than once on this site, because she's a real part of how I show up in the world.
What follows is a little about who I am, where I come from, and why I do this work. I'm telling it the way I'd tell it across a table, not the way most professional bios are written. If you make it to the end, I think you'll have a sense of whether we'd be a good fit for each other.
The Earliest Lessons
The two people who shaped me most in my earliest years were my parents, and they each gave me something different that I still carry today.
My father taught me that preparation meets opportunity. He didn't dress it up. He just lived it. The lesson I took from him is that the moments that change your life don't usually announce themselves. You have to be ready when they show up, and being ready is something you build long before the moment comes. He also taught me that even when you've done the preparation, things will sometimes fall apart anyway. You have to keep moving forward because it's part of the process and nothing in life is perfect. Progress matters.
My mother taught me something else. When I was three years old, she noticed certain behaviors that appeared interesting. Her instinct was to ask for help, and she sought new partners with the team at Children's Hospital Boston. At that time, medical professionals had been able to diagnose me with ADD (now more commonly known as ADHD). This showed me that people who pay attention can change the trajectory of your life. She also always said “The only thing you leave in life is memories, make them good ones.” The lesson I learned here is that how you make people feel is the thing that lasts. Not the deal you closed. Not the title you held. The memory you left.
These lessons sit at the foundation of everything I do.
Where I Was Shaped
Moving to a new town as a child was a first big step for the appropriate support in my New England grade school education. I surprised my parents by applying to Xaverian Brothers High School in Westwood, MA. We felt it was a reach as I was not a great student, and when I received the acceptance letter, I was incredibly happy as I doubted myself. The academics were harder and the resources were there to meet me when I rose to it. It was the first place I really believed I could be more than I had been.
My father (a Navy veteran) brought Norwich University's Corps of Cadets (the birthplace of ROTC) to my attention after I applied to strong business schools. Once again, my father opened my eyes and shared wisdom about this different college experience. Norwich gave me an honor code, a cadet oath, and a service before self mentality. It taught me that discipline is its own form of care, and that structure is what frees you to do real work. The friends I made there are still some of the most important people in my life. We call each other family because the word fits.
Both places gave me something that's harder to find in adult life than people admit: a sense of being held by something larger than yourself, while still being challenged to grow.
What the Work Taught Me
I've had four distinct career chapters: journalism, fundraising, HR leadership at a major company, and now coaching and consulting through J-POP Strategies.
Each chapter taught me something the next one would need.
Journalism taught me how to listen for the human story underneath the facts. Fundraising taught me that real relationships outlast any transaction, and that people give to people, not to causes. HR leadership taught me that you can move enormous things when you put people first and let process follow. And coaching taught me that the work I'd been doing my whole career (making people feel seen, heard, and ready for what's next) was the work I most wanted to do on purpose.
Every chapter prepared me for the next one. None of it was wasted, even the hard parts.
The Person Who Taught Me The Most
The most important relationship of my life is with my wife.
Her endless patience, kindness, and trust are the foundations of my journey. She has lived through a series of medical issues, and what I've learned from being beside her through that is something no career could have given me. Her positive outlook showed me what endurance actually looks like up close. Her steady presence has been the truest example I've ever known of what patience really means.
I've learned what empathy means when there's nothing you can do but be present. I live by that concept every day. I've learned what supporting one another looks like, what it feels like, and what it can build in a partnership.
Much of who I am as a partner — to her, to friends, to the people I work with — came from her example.
Why This Work
Everything I've lived has pointed me toward this.
I have been carried by people who chose to see me. Parents who paid attention. Teachers who made time. Friends who stayed close enough to be honest. Mentors who refused to let me figure it out alone.
I have also lived seasons when that wasn't there. When the work felt like a performance instead of a calling. When showing up every day cost more than I had to give. Those seasons taught me that being seen is not optional.
J-POP Strategies exists because I want to give other people what the best of those relationships gave me. The willingness to slow down. The discipline to ask the right questions. The honesty to call out what isn't working. The conviction that they are worth the time.
I built this work on a single belief that has guided everything I do: every human being deserves to feel seen and heard.
If it sounds like the kind of partnership you've been looking for, the door is open.
Now you know me. I’d like to know you.
You don’t have to figure this out alone, or have it figured out before we talk.
The first thing I’ll do is ask questions and listen. Partnership begins with give and take.
If something here resonates, that’s a signal worth acting on.
I’ll meet you wherever you are. In the beginning, the middle, or somewhere you can’t quite name yet. Start where you are, and take whatever step feels right.