"The blame lies nowhere and the solution rests in all of us"

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been working in the education field for three months now. While I like to tell myself that the back office work I’m doing is making it possible for our young men to have an education they might not other wise receive, I am reminded at least once a month that what they really need is me. They need me not in the capacity that I currently serve, but as a mentor and a marker of success to surpass. These young men are fortunate enough to see positive black male role models during the school day, but when they leave, I’m afraid the images they see are not reflective of what we want them to be. Once a month, several of the students attend a mentoring meeting at which individuals from companies around Chicago come together for a few hours to help shape the future of the young men. As I sat through this meeting today, I noticed that of the nearly one-hundred corporate representatives, not one of them was a black man: I stood alone as the sole face of one of America’s most controversial groups of people. Though the students have never mentioned a concern for the lack of black male presence at these events it must bother them at least on a subconscious level. How could it not? Today, they walked around from table to table at the career fair and didn’t see one face that looked like theirs. We can preach to the young men that every opportunity is theirs and doors will be open to them, but until they can match a familiar face to a blazed path the messages will be diluted. While I applaud the efforts of the organization that hosts the mentoring program, I hope that one day they will make a more concerted effort to recruit mentors who look like the program participants. Simultaneously, successful black must make it easier for programs, like the aforementioned, to find and provide a platform for them to give back. It is a dual effort; the blame lies nowhere and the solution rests in all of us, we must awaken it.

We must choose enrollment over enlistment

While I was out yesterday, I was text messaging a friend from home and she told me, "I'm goin away for a lil bit. I thought we were going to talk about this over dinner." Now, where I'm from the phrase 'going away for bit' means one thing: prison. So naturally, I sobered up upon reading this and continued on with the conversation; refusing to wait until dinner to know what was going on. Eventually, she gave in and told me that she was leaving for basic training in a month. While I was relieved to find out that she wasn't in any type of trouble, I was simultaneously saddened to hear that this bright young woman had chosen the military over college. This is not to say that the military is a dishonorable profession; I have the utmost respect for anyone willing to die for his/her country. However, since high school, I have seen too many friends choose enlistment over enrollment. I use the word 'choose' here loosely, as the decision was typically determined by circumstance. Now for some history…
When African Americans were first allowed to serve in the military in the 19th Century, it was considered a great honor and all individuals who were allowed to enlist took full advantage. These proud soldiers fought not only for 'their' country, but also for eventual freedom of their people. Their heroic acts, however, were not limited to battlefield. When these men returned to their communities, they brought with them their newfound literacy and spread the gift to all those who had a desire to learn. Not only did they teach others to read, but made efforts to financially support educational institutions. In Greensboro, Georgia soldiers of the 175th Battalion of New York Volunteers raised $65 to help purchase land for a school building; that once erected, hosted a solider from that unit as its first teacher. During the late 19th Century, the military offered black men resources that were difficult to obtain from other mediums; sadly, in the 21st Century, the military is still viewed in a similar light. Often times, without the same level of benefits as those experienced by soldiers of 175th Battalion of New York.
The racial progress that has been made since the first black soldiers put on a uniform would lead an outsider to believe that there are endless opportunities for the young black man or woman graduating from high school. A look at the overrepresentation of African Americans in the military versus the work place would change the outsider's mind. Another look at the overrepresentation of African Americans in the prison systems versus society would flat out baffle him. While the doors of higher learning institutions are open to all, lackluster funding and secondary education prevent far too many aspirational African Americans from walking through them. We undoubtedly live in a better racial environment than in the 19th Century, but, there is much to be said about the disproportionate numbers of African Americans in government institutions. We must choose enrollment over enlistment.

Cliche, but, "become the change you want to see"

Note to the people in the progam I'm in:

I thought a lot about our program following the meeting with Scott yesterday and came to the conclusion that we may be a little too focused on what others want a BA to be; and not enough on what we can make a BA be. Though some may have thought Scott’s comment on us one day sitting in his chair was facetious, a second listen can offer a totally different meaning. If Scott had told us all that the end goal of a BA was to become a manager, then an instant ceiling would’ve been placed over our heads and the track would’ve been too slow for some and too fast for others. Instead, he refrained from placing any boundaries over us and left our paths wide open. So, instead of continuing to brainstorm and theorize on what a BA “should be,” let’s blaze paths for what a BA is. We’ve been placed in a great position here at SHC and it is up to each of us to take full advantage of the situation.

New BA’s start soon and the last thing we should do is give off a negative vibe about the direction of program; as this may deter them from reaching the heights they are capable of and spoil all of our images. Let’s set the example for what a BA can be by making the right connections, working hard, and achieving results. Once we prove ourselves and earn the title of “winner,” it will be very hard to deny us of any opportunities that we are ready for. When our track records begin to speak for themselves, the burden of proof as to why we shouldn’t be given certain roles will be on the hiring manager; and I don’t think anyone here is stubborn or foolish enough to not want a winner on her/his team. At the end of the day, everyone is here to succeed and will utilize every resource possible to obtain this success.

All of this is not to say that we should stop thinking about ways to improve the program from the top down, but that we should be very focused on crafting the program we are in through the opportunities that we are presented with. As cliché as it is, “become the change you want to see.”

"If it ain't no hope for the youth..."

I had the pleasure of spending this past weekend with my best friend, Simone, in Washington D.C.  I had only been to DC one time before, but I was attending on Fraternal business and didn’t have much time to explore the city (real truth, I was under 21 with no ID).  I vowed to make this time different.

            On my final night in our nation’s capital, I witnessed something that both shocked and saddened me.  As she and I walked down 5^th street on our way to the movies, a group of police cars sped past us as though there was a serious emergency going on.  Being that D.C. isn’t much different than any other major city I’ve been in, I disregarded the sirens and continued to walk through the late night rain. As we turned the corner onto 7^th Street, I noticed that all of the police cars had come to a halt a few blocks ahead of us.  I thought to myself, “This should be interesting.”  As we continued to walk, our eyes were met with sights of America’s beautiful black youth. Their bright smiles and loud laughs illuminated the rainy DC night in a manner that caused an invisible rainbow to be formed in one’s mind.  Nothing could’ve kept them away, and they had every intention of enjoying one the first warm Saturday nights this year in DC.  Unfortunately, DC’s finest had other plans.

            It was if though the officers were invisible. The kids stood around enjoying one another’s company amidst the verbal assault of the officers in the area. Though they seemed to be disregarding the officers, the one look deep into the eyes of the youth revealed the growing disdain for the boys in blue.  The frustration the officer’s were experiencing was ever present on their faces and it was beginning to affect their attitude towards the older individuals in the area.  As Simone and I attempted to turn left and walk towards the movies, the officer glared and us and said “Don’t even think about it.”  Not wanting to cause any drama, we simply crossed the street and continued towards our destination.  As we completed the last leg of our journey to see “The Soloist,” we saw even more young teens being hassled by police officers and other individuals in uniform.  Needless to say, this all weighed heavily on my mind throughout the night.

            Yes, the children were loitering and probably shouldn’t have been out that late without parental supervision.  However, they really weren’t causing any type of disturbance on the sidewalk and were simply out enjoying one another’s company in a seemingly safe environment.  Would we prefer they be in dark alleys doing drugs and gambling? Or perhaps sleeping with one another while their parents are out?  I think not. Should they not be allowed to enjoy the same luxuries as other residents and visitors of DC?  Others on the street certainly weren’t being harassed.   America, we just elected a black president.  We have to do better by our black youth, especially in our nation’s capital. 

            I’m not knocking the officers for “doing their jobs,” because I’ve never been one to shoot the messenger.  Instead, I’m saying that there’s a larger problem at hand.  This “battle” will not be won on the front lines.  The treatment the youth get from the officers only increases the resentment for “authority” they pick up in other arenas.  The resources put into policing this area need to be reallocated to fight the “war on parenting.”

 I’m assuming that the majority of these kids were not homeless, so some adult willingly allowed them out of the house for the night.  If DC will not allow the youth to hang out in the nation’s capital, then this message must be hammered home with the parents.  While the kids are not stupid and know right from wrong, the ultimate responsibility for young teenagers lies on the shoulders of the parents.

 Let these officers, government officials and other individuals in the area make it crystal clear to the parents that such behavior will not be tolerated.  From there, all parties can possibly work towards a viable alternative for the late night hang outs.  Until then, the resentment will continue to grow and the problem increase exponentially. In the words of Tupac “If it ain’t no hope for the youth then the truth is it ain’t no hope for the future.” We’ve made it this far, let’s ensure a bright future for our beautiful youth. 

Dream Big, But Dream Wisely

I've been meaning to share this for a while (two months); but, have been hesitant because it's a bit corny.  But, since it has been on my mind for this long I should probably just put it on (virtual) paper.

About two months ago, I was in the Bay Area, CA (one of my favorite places) for work.  I spent about four days there and got a chance to interact with ground level associates and develop a greater understanding and appreciation for what they do. While I was there for work, my mind couldn't help but to dwell on the societal issues I was seeing up close.  There I was, a 22 year-old kid who one week sat in a Boardroom with C-Level Execs and the next talked in a warehouse with part-time employees. Needless to say, I was struggling to figure out where I fit in.  The warehouse associates demeanor led me to believe they thought I was far more important that I actually was.  In reality, they were the wealth of knowledge that I needed to tap into in order to solve the problem I was given.  After my four days there, I had learned the information necessary to make a recommendation and headed home with the thoughts and faces of the hard working associates running through my mind.

After being put through hell at the security checkpoint at the airport (ridiculous), I finally made it to my gate.  It was your typical airport and gate, but what I failed to notice was that we were on ground level and there was no Jetway for us to walk on to our plane. Great.  When boarding time came, we strolled out into the steamy California heat and stood in an elementary school style single file line to board what seemed like a huge plane.  I couldn't understand why they would make us stand in this line and walk up stairs to a regular sized plane. Hmm.  I thought to myself, "at least they'll have plenty of space for my carry-on."  Boy, was  I wrong.  

When I finally made it on the plane, I was disappointed to find that it was not a large plane at all; it was smaller than a normal one.  There was definitely no room for my carry-on and I had to plead with the flight attendant to put it in a closet on the plane (didn't need a roscoe jenkins episode happening to me).  As I sat down and buckled up for take-off, I blocked out the annoying "if this plane is about to crash pitch" with thoughts of my misperception of the plane's size. 

Like I said, this corny; but I couldn't help but focus on how overwhelming the plane looked from standing beneath it on the outside and how small and underwhelming it was once I was inside.  If I can make this misjudgement with a plane size, what else am I doing it with? Are things that seem out of touch and grandiose really just steps away and mediocre at best? Since that day, I question everything. Not in a pessimistic or cynical way, but in a manner that will allow me to truly assess the way things really are.  Looks truly can be deceiving.  Something you desire may not be all it's hyped up to be once you finally reach it; but on the other hand, it could be. So Dream Big, but Dream Wisely. 

Don't Blow It

While sitting at home eating lunch (needed to get away from the office) I was watching ESPN and discovered that Percy Harvin and Brandon Tate tested positive for marijuana use at the NFL Combine.  The commentator continued on saying that either they were stupid, or had a habitual problem.....Unfortunately, I have to agree with him.  These players know they'll be tested months before and the exact date and damn near time that they'll have to pee in that cup.  Is it too much to ask to put down the blunt for thirty days and patiently wait for the millions of dollars that will be pouring into your hands in a matter of months? I think not.

Even sadder than this stupidity is the fact that they probably won't feel the consequences very heavily.  In this economy, teams are pressed to sell all the tickets they can and will use whatever big name they can acquire to do so.  Even if Percy does drop down to the bottom of the first round, I hope the Colts stand their moral ground and pass on him; in an attempt to show the children that such behavior will not be tolerated. 

Now some of you will say, "It's just weed. What's the big deal. Hell, even our President smoked it."  This is true.  And right or wrong, a young black man at Harvard Law is viewed a bit differently than a student-athlete at the University of Florida.  President Obama spoke of his substance abuse in his autobiography; it was not nationally aired a few days before his election.  It's like the Supreme Court telling President Obama, "we're going to drug test you at the conclusion of Primaries," and him proceeding to use a drug. It makes NO sense. 

People, when using a mind altering substance, consider the life altering aspects. It might blow your high... 

Recommended Reading...

1899

A Message to Garcia

By Elbert Hubbard

In all this Cuban business there is one man stands out on the horizon of my memory like Mars at perihelion. When war broke out between Spain & the United States, it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain vastness of Cuba- no one knew where. No mail nor telegraph message could reach him. The President must secure his cooperation, and quickly.

What to do!

Some one said to the President, "There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan will find Garcia for you, if anybody can."

Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How "the fellow by the name of Rowan" took the letter, sealed it up in an oil-skin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, & in three weeks came out on the other side of the Island, having traversed a hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia, are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail.

The point I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask, "Where is he at?" By the Eternal! there is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this and that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies: do the thing- "Carry a message to Garcia!"

General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias.

No man, who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed, but has been well nigh appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man- the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it. Slip-shod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifference, & half-hearted work seem the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook, or threat, he forces or bribes other men to assist him; or mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, & sends him an Angel of Light for an assistant. You, reader, put this matter to a test: You are sitting now in your office- six clerks are within call.

Summon any one and make this request: "Please look in the encyclopedia and make a brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Correggio".

Will the clerk quietly say, "Yes, sir," and go do the task?

On your life, he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye and ask one or more of the following questions:

Who was he?

Which encyclopedia?

Where is the encyclopedia?

Was I hired for that?

Don’t you mean Bismarck?

What’s the matter with Charlie doing it?

Is he dead?

Is there any hurry?

Shan’t I bring you the book and let you look it up yourself?

What do you want to know for?

And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the questions, and explained how to find the information, and why you want it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him try to find Garcia- and then come back and tell you there is no such man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average, I will not.

Now if you are wise you will not bother to explain to your "assistant" that Correggio is indexed under the C’s, not in the K’s, but you will smile sweetly and say, "Never mind," and go look it up yourself.

And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold and lift, are the things that put pure Socialism so far into the future. If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when the benefit of their effort is for all? A first-mate with knotted club seems necessary; and the dread of getting "the bounce" Saturday night, holds many a worker to his place.

Advertise for a stenographer, and nine out of ten who apply, can neither spell nor punctuate- and do not think it necessary to.

Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?

"You see that bookkeeper," said the foreman to me in a large factory.

"Yes, what about him?"

"Well he’s a fine accountant, but if I’d send him up town on an errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and on the other hand, might stop at four saloons on the way, and when he got to Main Street, would forget what he had been sent for."

Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?

We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the "downtrodden denizen of the sweat-shop" and the "homeless wanderer searching for honest employment," & with it all often go many hard words for the men in power.

Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a vain attempt to get frowsy ne’er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and his long patient striving with "help" that does nothing but loaf when his back is turned. In every store and factory there is a constant weeding-out process going on. The employer is constantly sending away "help" that have shown their incapacity to further the interests of the business, and others are being taken on. No matter how good times are, this sorting continues, only if times are hard and work is scarce, the sorting is done finer- but out and forever out, the incompetent and unworthy go.

It is the survival of the fittest. Self-interest prompts every employer to keep the best- those who can carry a message to Garcia.

I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to manage a business of his own, and yet who is absolutely worthless to any one else, because he carries with him constantly the insane suspicion that his employer is oppressing, or intending to oppress him. He cannot give orders; and he will not receive them. Should a message be given him to take to Garcia, his answer would probably be, "Take it yourself."

Tonight this man walks the streets looking for work, the wind whistling through his threadbare coat. No one who knows him dare employ him, for he is a regular fire-brand of discontent. He is impervious to reason, and the only thing that can impress him is the toe of a thick-soled No. 9 boot.

Of course I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied than a physical cripple; but in our pitying, let us drop a tear, too, for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise, whose working hours are not limited by the whistle, and whose hair is fast turning white through the struggle to hold in line dowdy indifference, slip-shod imbecility, and the heartless ingratitude, which, but for their enterprise, would be both hungry & homeless.

Have I put the matter too strongly? Possibly I have; but when all the world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the man who succeeds- the man who, against great odds has directed the efforts of others, and having succeeded, finds there’s nothing in it: nothing but bare board and clothes.

I have carried a dinner pail & worked for day’s wages, and I have also been an employer of labor, and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no excellence, per se, in poverty; rags are no recommendation; & all employers are not rapacious and high-handed, any more than all poor men are virtuous.

My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the "boss" is away, as well as when he is at home. And the man who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly take the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets "laid off," nor has to go on a strike for higher wages. Civilization is one long anxious search for just such individuals. Anything such a man asks shall be granted; his kind is so rare that no employer can afford to let him go. He is wanted in every city, town and village- in every office, shop, store and factory. The world cries out for such: he is needed, & needed badly- the man who can carry a message to Garcia.

THE END-