Progress Report

The Friday before Christmas I visited Jamal's school and had an impromptu conference with one of his teachers. Initially, I had only intended to pick up his first quarter report card which had been available for almost 6 weeks at this point. His Grandmother insisted that she was still unable to get it because of her physical limitations.
As I have said before, I am trying to motivate Jamal to achieve academically. And since he never gives me much more than "school is aiight" I needed his report card to assess his progress. Baltimore Schools have abadoned the "A,B,C" system for percentiles. Which makes GPAs easier to understand, and really makes more sense overall. Jamal's average for the first quarter was a 76.83. Most grades were 75 or 80, but he did have one, Language Arts, which was a 70%. I decided to go in and speak with that teacher so that I could determine what the problem was. Mr. B. told me that Jamal is in his advanced class, and one of the smartest students in class, but he is determined to do the minimum to get by. He doesn't do all of his homework and doesn't pay attention in class. Other commments on the report card indicated that he displayed the same attitude elsewhere. "Conduct limits learning" and "Disruptive and/or inattentive" described his behavior in two other classes.
Armed with this new information, I went to have a serious discussion with his Grandmother and explain what the grades meant. This was the first conversation that I had with her outside of Jamal's presence, and it revealed much more of his family circumstances, as well as his Grandmother's general approach to child rearing.
Most startling, was the fact that she stopped school in the 6th grade, raised 10 children, 4 of which are dead (AIDS, Alcoholism, or accidents) and 1-2 who are in prison. Two more of her children are living with AIDS or Alcoholism. Halfway through our conversation, she spoke in depth about how tightly she controls Jamal's exposure to the outside world. Minimal phone calls from friends, limited time outside the house. Then she turned around complained about how much he plays video games and lies to her about finishing his homework so that he can play more. She had absolutely no idea how he was performing in school other than "he's passing all of his classes." As important as I think it is to encourage achievement at his age, I realize that she is probably trying her best to prevent him from making the same mistakes as her children, and has completely neglected his academic development in the process.
Before I left, I offered Grandma some unsolicited advice. "Remove the television from his room, don't allow him to play video games or watch TV during the week, and demand his homework before he does anything else at night." She agreed that these were good ideas, but was hesitant to implement them just yet.
Three nights ago, Jamal and I got together to do a few drawings. He became frustrated with his artwork, and practically begged to play some internet games while I was still working on mine. It's disappointing to see a child his age commit so much of his energy to mindless video games and television, but I can empathize. If the child is not encouraged to pursue other activities, what else would you expect?
Regardless, I spoke with Jamal what I had learned during my visit to the school, and told him that I want him to shoot for 86% for 3rd quarter (2nd quarter is almost over). Before I dropped him off, I asked him if he understood why he should be working hard for his grades. "So I can get a good job" he replied. Good answer, now the challenge is to get him to behave as if he believes it.

Another Look at the Black Family

The article below was the latest addition to the Washington Post series "Being a Black Man." It covers most of the points that I made in my discussion about the demise of the American Black family a few months back, but follows a real life father to illustrate them. Although the author is careful to reserve judgement, I like that he raises the question of what a father can provide for a child when he has done little to educate himself, acquire meaningful employment, or establish a stable household.


The Washington Post- Dad, Redefined

An Idle Mind

My free time over the past weeks has been limited by my study and hospital schedule, and mostly dominated by what I have come to call ‘wedding planning ambushes’ set by my fiancée. Jamal and I have had more phone conversations than usual, a few failed attempts to link up, and some drop-ins here and there. Last Friday we finally caught a break, and I spent the evening watching a movie and slugging it out in our favorite Nintendo game.
As much as I enjoy video entertainment, I’ve slowly discovered over the past month that it is generally the extent of Jamal’s activities if he’s not in school. His grandmother is trying hard to provide for him, but she is falling very short of stimulating the young man’s mind. I believe this is at least partially due to the limitations that her health has imposed on her. Every time that I see her she is either laying on her bed watching television, or sitting downstairs devising a plan to get to her bed and television. She also seems to not take his education as seriously as I think that she should. His report card has been available for almost 4 weeks now, but she has not picked it up from the school and does not know how he performed.
As a ‘Big Brother’ I feel obligated to expand the young man’s mind, to take him places that he would not otherwise go. And although I have spent the past month doing things that Jamal enjoys, and that I loved at that age, I want to limit our time in front of the television in the future.
As Christmas approaches, I’ve given a lot of thought to what gift I want to get him. Since he still plays a 3rd generation video game console, and this holiday season marks the inauguration of the 5th generation, the games for his system are exceptionally cheap. But now that I have come to more fully understand his home environment, I feel like I cannot give him anything that would encourage another minute in front of the television. So, I’m basically going to violate everything that I learned about Christmas as a kid, and give him some books. My hope is that he will find them entertaining, and that they will activate his imagination and desire to read more books. So far I’m leaning towards The Chronicles of Narnia series, the Series of Unfortunate Events series, and some basic cartoon drawing books. Any other ideas for the 12 year old age range? Of course, in the back of my mind I keep imagining all of the creative things other than reading that I would have thought of to do with a book that I opened on Christmas morning at that age.

Family Building

Another month in the hospital, another chance to see Black American statistics come to life. I split the past 4 weeks between Obstetrics/Gynecology clinics and the Labor and Delivery floor of a Baltimore hospital. On average, I met about 4-5 pregnant or postpartum black women a day and either did a quick check up (if in the clinic) or assisted in the delivery of their child if they were on the labor and delivery floor. Although I will never voluntarily come near a gynecology clinic or a delivery ward again, I must admit that childbirth is one of the most beautiful things that I have ever witnessed. In case there was any confusion, that is despite the screaming, bleeding, and vomiting, not because of it. Unfortunately, I found that in many cases the deeper implications of birth often diminished my appreciation of new life. In the stillness that followed birth, I would often peer over at the newborn as he or she lay beneath the heating lamp and imagine their future. On many occasions, I lamented the child's unlikely prospects of enjoying a stable household, and a strong upbrining based on the little information that I had already gathered from her parents. Young, unmarried, and uneducated.
70 percent of black children are born to unmarried parents, and only 32 percent of black children have fathers in the home. These statistics echoed in my mind each time I greeted a black mother. Sadly, of the 70-80 women that I met over the past month, only 6 or 7 black mothers were married. Almost one third of them were either teenagers, or had been pregnant as teenagers. One statistic that I have not come across, maybe because it doesn't really matter, is how many black fathers are present when life begins. I was very surprised to see that in more than 50% of cases, the boyfriend (baby-daddy) was present for birth or an appointment. Unfortunately, current statistics predict that they won't be staying much longer.
My experiences over the last month supported the census and health department statistics that I have read many times before concerning a general decline in the stability of Black families. Stable, two-parent homes have positive correlations with good outcomes among children regardless of geography and race. In a perfect world, this fact alone would inspire everyone to carefully plan pregnancy and family building. But that is rarely seen among the poor blacks of Balitmore and many other cities in America. So what can we do to improve these children's lives despite these circumstances? For those that are capable, mentor a child in need or support someone who does. In the case of Big Brothers Big Sisters, mentors have been shown to make dramatic differences in the lives of young people. For those already mentoring, thank you, and feel free to share your experiences.

Shake 'N Bake

On Sunday, Jamal and I tried something a little different. I realized that I had come up with most of the ideas for our outings, so when he asked about going to the local skating rink for a free, ‘family skate’ session, I thought it would be a good idea. My fiancé decided to join us so that she could meet Jamal and spend the afternoon getting acquainted. Having visited local skating rinks in many suburban settings, I was interested to see what differences I would find in a ‘hood’ roller rink.
One of the first things that grabbed my attention was that the hood had actually named the local family fun center after America’s favorite home fried chicken, Shake and Bake. Fascinating. Then there was the thumping loud rap music that could be heard from the moment we entered the vestibule. It was so loud that the ticket booth lady and I had to repeat ourselves constantly while I bought the tickets. Why would anyone think it appropriate to blast Clipse, T.I. and Snoop for the 10 and under crowd? To my utter amazement, the DJ did not play a single R&B, Pop, or any form of non-rap tracks for the duration of the ‘family skate.’ He did however, play the edited versions so that the children were only treated to the first syllable of each profanity or innuendo. I was also surprised to see that the rink had employed not one, but two rink bouncers to man the doors between the ticket booth and the rink. How many guys does it take to tell the first graders not to cut line?
On a more positive note, I witnessed in person what could be described as rhythmic figure skating/skate dancing, but is officially known as Jam Skating. I’m sure that this has probably been around since the 80’s or before, and I have seen it in a number of music videos from the past few years, but never in an actual rink. Jam Skating was featured in that horrible movie, 'Roll Bounce' that made a brief stop in theatres on its way to DVD last year. Throughout the session, some of the older boys and the rink referees demonstrated some serious moves; spins, bounces, shakes, and glides and all with the rhythm of the tracks. They were quite a sight to behold. I have to admit, I felt really out of touch. I spent most of my formative years in the rink trying to run my brothers off the track, or just seeing how fast I could go with no regard for rhythm or coolness.
Jamal and I raced around the rink a whole bunch of times, playing cat and mouse, and weaving in and out of crowds. Periodically, I broke away to force my fiancé to venture away from the wall around the rink for a lap or so. After about 45 minutes, it became clear to me why I used to resort to trying to ram my brothers and friends into the walls. There’s not a whole lot to do other than go in circles over and over. But since Jamal was having a good time, I just kept rolling.
This outing really brought out Jamal’s thoughtful and caring side. He repeatedly offered to buy us lunch, and even offered to leave early when he noticed that I was getting tired. I normally wouldn't let him see me like that on an outing, but I had worked a 24 hour shift the day before. He also purchased some light up jewelry for us to use during the ‘lights out’ skate half way through the session. I didn’t take him up on the lunch, but gladly accepted my flashing ‘power ring.’ Even though it is already broken, probably never to flash again, I’m going to keep the ring as a souvenir. Maybe the two of us will share a laugh years down the road about flashing jewelry and our trip to the fried chicken skating rink.

Enough

Over the past week I read Juan Williams' cultural wake-up call, Enough: The Phony Leaders, Dead-End Movements, and Culture of Failure That Are Undermining Black America--and What We Can Do About It . Williams wrote this book in support of Bill Cosby's repeated assaults on the most destructive, and self-defeating behaviors that are rotting the core of contemporary Black Culture. Enough focuses on the defeatist, victim mentality which festers among poor blacks, and is encouraged by "Black Leaders" and popular culture. Williams takes special care to address the inevitable personal attacks and criticisms that are aimed at Cosby and any other Black person that insists personal responsibility and accountability are the only means to improved economic and social outcomes for African Americans. Although Mr. Williams' assessment can at times be overwhelming and depressing, I highly reccomend this book to anyone interested in a new approach fixing our communities. Click on the link below to read other reader's opinions on Enough.

Amazon.com Customer Reviews

Air and Space

On Saturday, Jamal and I decided on a day trip to the National Air and Space Museum as our first outing in many weeks. As a child, my parents hauled me and my brothers out to the National Mall for a day full of ‘culture’ on numerous occasions. I have to admit, I dreaded most of our trips down there. With the exception of the Air and Space museum, I usually found counting the number of steps until I made it back to the Metro station more exciting than most of the other museum exhibits. I’m not sure if the museums have improved exponentially since then, or if I was just a knucklehead, because now I enjoy them almost as much as an afternoon of cereal and video games. I split an entire day last summer between two museums and saw only a fraction of what I had intended to. So given my new found enthusiasm for the Smithsonian exhibits, I just knew that Jamal would have to love it too. Who wouldn’t be amazed to see retired space craft suspended from a vaulted ceiling? Apparently, Jamal wouldn’t.
Always a fan of space travel, I decided that it would be best to start our visit on the ‘space’ side of the museum. As we approached each capsule, module, or rocket, I went into what must have been painful detail about its technological and historical significance. I tried my best to put everything in perspective on a level that I thought he could understand and appreciate. Regardless, about and hour into our tour I knew that Jamal was bored. How could he be bored? This was great stuff. Even as a kid I could see that, I think.
Eager to prevent his boredom from slowing the pace of the day’s events, I decided we should head to another museum. On our way out, Jamal asked me if we could stop by an exhibit called ‘How Things Fly’. Turns out it’s a room full of about 25 physics experiments made for children. They featured visitor controlled devices that demonstrated the principles of air flow, pressure, friction, and flight. I couldn’t believe that I had almost missed this room altogether. We ended up staying for another hour and a half so that we could tinker with all of the different contraptions and had an absolute blast. The evening wound down with Pizza back at my parents’ house before we drove back to Baltimore. Despite my attempts to explore Jamal’s plan for achieving straight A’s this quarter, our return trip conversation quickly turned into a discussion about the Justice League’s roster of heroes and a comparison of their powers. He’s definitely motivated, but I think I’m going to have to wait for his report card before we can have any meaningful discussions. No sweat for right now though, we’ll get there.

Caught in the Struggle

I've been pretty busy in the hospital for the past month, and have seen very little of Jamal as a result. Thankfully, my current rotation ends in a week followed by a three day weekend. Typically, I'd rather discuss my dealings with Jamal and the lessons learned in my attempts to be the best mentor possible to him, but in light of my recent experiences, I will diverge just a bit.
For the past month I have been doing an internal medicine infectious disease rotation. In Baltimore, that translates to seeing HIV patients in various states of disrepair all day every day. Most of our cases are further complicated drug use, other STDs, and completely dysfunctional living arrangements. As my preceptor so eloquently put it, "To be seen on this service, you have to be a loser at life." So basically, the only patients that I have seen for the past three weeks are HIV positive, non-compliant, IV drug abusers. And of course 100% of them have been Black. Researching the topic of inner-city black poverty through books, blogs, etc. opened my eyes quite a bit. But joining the team that attempts to treat the most severely diseased, addicted, and desperate of the ghetto's casualties has been far more educational and painful. The patients that I have cared for over the past month embody the self-destructive tendencies that permeate and diminish Black American culture and I can hardly stand to watch any more.
In the course of caring for them, I often become curious about the indivual and what sent them so far in the wrong direction. The physician role allows for, and even encourages a high degree of privilege into the private lives of these patients. "How did you get HIV?" "How often do you use drugs?" "Which ones do you use?" "How many children do you have?" Of course, it's the response to that last question that weighs most heavily on me. I have come to believe that the greatest obstacles to success among poor blacks are parents who pass their failures onto the next generation, legacies of addiction, lawlessness, and miseducation where true success is a rare exception. I am skeptical about the chances of there ever being widespread reversal of these kinds of legacies, but I still believe individuals can make a difference. The past three weeks have been difficult, but I am strengthened in my resolve to make sure that Jamal and all the young men that I will mentor in the future are equipped with the knowledge and understanding to escape their parents' mistakes.

Lazy Afternoon

I wrapped things up at the hospital a little earlier than usual on Thursday, so on my way home I gave Jamal a call to see how he was doing. We’ve been unable to meet for a few weeks due to conflicting schedules. I wasn’t really planning to drop by, but when I asked him what he was up to he told me that he was playing SUPER SMASH BROTHERS, one of my favorite games of all times. I was deeply impressed when he mentioned that he had repaired his broken controller by disassembling it and a reconnecting a damaged wire. That controller had been the only thing standing between us and a Smash Brothers showdown, so I decided that it would only be right to drop by his apartment for a few matches.
Twenty minutes after I arrived I had already lost 4 straight games, and I was actually starting to get a little irritated. I’m pretty good at that game, and I couldn’t believe this dude was breaking me off like that. Not only was he kicking my Pikachu all over the screen, but he was telling me how bad I sucked every time he blew my character off the screen. I hadn’t suffered that much verbal abuse from a 12-year-old since I was in the 6th grade. As I started getting frustrated, I considered that perhaps this would just have to be one of those tender moments where Jamal would grow more confident after dealing his big brother a thrashing. Just as I was about to tell him that he was the better player and congratulate him on his victories, I realized that there was no way I could leave with that many losses on the board.
I ended up battling back and tied the score before I left. All the while returning a lot of the same harrassment. It was really fun. After we turned the game off, Jamal told me that he’s starting the 6th Grade on Monday at a school across town. As a side note, he expressed his disapproval at the Baltimore School system’s recent lowering of the passing standard to 60%.

Passing Easier in City Schools

I found it a little amusing that even some children can see how bad of an idea that is. I challenged him to set a goal of getting all A’s this year and offered him an incentive of his choice (within reason). Jamal is a very intelligent kid who is more than capable of getting great grades, but he has been getting B’s and C’s and even failed a class last year. I just think he’s been a little short on motivation and has had some serious distractions to deal with. But I believe that he can do a lot better this year, and I hope that he will allow me to help him get there.

Ballin'

Saturday afternoon began like most of our conversations, with me trying to guess what it is that a twelve year-old actually wants to talk about. “Read any books this week?”. Nope. “When does school start?” I don’t know. “What did you do all week?” Nothing. Hmmm… “So, what’s the best mutant power on that X-men game anyway?” [Long soliloquy on Iceman and Nightcrawler]. I’m starting to realize that Jamal doesn’t really want to address his education, books, or career plans on a weekly basis. I saw a cheesy inspirational poster today that said “A lesson learned at the right time will last a lifetime”. If that is actually true, I would have to say that the middle of the summer is definitely not the time to have any deep conversations about Jamal’s future with him.
Our activities started at the University gym with two games of H-O-R-S-E followed by a game of 1-on-1 to 7 points. I’m not bragging or anything, but I pretty much dominated him from the get go. My Outside shot was on fire, I was driving to the hole, and there was nothing he could do about the post. I guess I should also mention that he is 4’11” and 65 lbs. But he told me not to go easy on him so I had no choice but to crush him. I did end up letting him score a few times without being too obvious about it.
After basketball, I attempted to teach Jamal the game of racquetball. But after about 5 minutes it was clear that he wasn’t that interested in learning the rules, so we just started randomly smacking the ball around until we got tired.
From the gym we headed back to do a little art work. This time Jamal wanted to draw Tweety bird (one of his specialties), so we listened to my old school R&B playlist while drawing a picture that I had downloaded. I was pleasantly surprised when he started singing along with Al Green and The Temptations. It turns out his Grandmother instilled a taste for good R&B in lieu of some of today’s music.

Jamal's Tweety
Thus far I’m really enjoying being a Big Brother, and it appears that Jamal enjoys our time as well. Making time for our get togethers is probably the biggest challenge. But I’m also learning that I have to be patient and teach him things as they come up instead of forcing conversations about topics that I think are important. I’m looking forward to taking Jamal to some museums in D.C. in the near future, and helping him tackle some of the challenges of the new school year once it gets underway. Until then, I guess we should both relax and enjoy what’s left of summer.

My Tweety

Super Hero Sunday

Yesterday was our first time hanging out. It was extremely hot outside so I decided it was better for us to do some indoor activities. My apartment in Baltimore is pretty boring to me, I can only imagine what it would be like for a 12 year old. So I thought it would be better if we headed over to my parents' house. Because my younger brother is still home for the summer, there are lots of interesting things to do at my parents’ house. The kid has a massive collection of DVDs and video games. To top things off, he’s working at Blockbuster video where he can rent even more games and movies for free.
Although I initially intended to play some games and draw a little, I thought of the additional benefit Jamal could gain just by seeing an environment so different from Baltimore. My parents live in Prince George’s County, long regarded as one of the largest concentrations of Black wealth and prosperity in the U.S. (see link below. No they don't live in a $900K house or anything close to that). Although I haven’t had the chance to probe his past completely, I suspect that Jamal has had limited exposure to the concept of a two parent home and the idea of widespread black prosperity.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/07/26/AR2006072601974.html


As I mentioned before, Jamal and I both enjoy drawing. It turns out we both like superheroes too. There’s something about whupping criminal butt in a cool costume that’s always captivated me. During the trip to my parents house we discussed our favorite heroes from the Justice League. Jamal likes the Green Lantern (John Stewart) as do I. Since I had a captive audience who actually cares, I had to take the opportunity to complain about the Martian Manhunter’s disappointing performance in battle after battle despite his phenomenal powers. That dude gets crushed in every episode. It's just sad man.
Anyway... Looking for a way to gauge Jamal’s interest in school and books, I asked him if he’s read anything interesting this summer. I was delighted when he told me that he had read Ben Carson’s Gifted Hands. Reading that very same book at the age of 13 strengthened my resolve to pursue a medical career. I was very pleased that Jamal has also read it.
We decided we would spend the afternoon drawing characters from my brother’s Justice League DVD. Once we arrived, we warmed up by watching two episodes, and then went to work drawing The Flash from one of the scenes that Jamal liked. It was Jamal’s first try at Flash and he’s still adjusting to drawing humanoid figures. The above image betrays his talents, as he is a very good artist. I noticed that most of his sketch book has animal cartoon characters, like Scooby, Tigger, and SpongeBob. So this was kind of new for him. I gave him a few pointers on proportion and recognizing shapes as a method for drawing specific parts of the human form and complimented him on doing a good job on Flash’s head and neck. In turn, he pointed out that in my picture (below) I used the wrong color on Flash's decorative lightning bolts.


After we were finished with the drawings, we took a peek into my brother’s treasure chest of video games. This dude has more than 25 PS2 games, some of which have not even been opened. He has some sort of compulsive/hording complex I think. I’m reccomending therapy. Anyway, Jamal saw X-men Legends II: Rise of Apocalypse and really wanted to play it. It’s one of those games where you go around punching and kicking everything in sight. The more people you beat down, the greater your powers become and you gain new and more impressive ways to beat people down. But when you start, it’s actually pretty boring, so I never took much interest in it. But I played along since Jamal was really into it.
As afternoon became evening, it was time to head back to Baltimore. I was pleased with our first outing, and it appears that Jamal was too. Before we got in the car he asked me when we could hang out again. I suggested that we play basketball somewhere in the city, or closer to the city the next time we meet. Jamal agreed, and told me that he is going to abuse me on the court. I suppose if I blow out a knee, develop pancreatic cancer, and lose an eye to a bb gun accident that could actually happen. But who knows? maybe he'll get lucky.

Why Mentor Black Children? And why do Black People have to do it?

Well, the question is not easy to answer... so I'll give the ADD answer up front. And those who still thirst for more can read the extended explanation with background information just below it...

ADD Answer

Generally, when poor black youth find themselves making the decision to reject formal education, ignore the risk of teenage parenthood, and engage in violence/commit crimes it is for a number of reasons specific to environment of urban poverty. I see lack of educated, responsible, or willing parents as a major contributor to this phenomenon. If children have never seen right, how can they do right? Why must these childrens' mentors be black? All too often, legitimate and mainstream success is dismissed as being limited to the white world. A successful black man or woman can help to remove this as a barrier to progress, and an excuse to continue down the path to nowhere.


Still with me? Good. I have done a fair amount of research to assemble what is my best explanation of the problem at hand, and the way in which I aim to go about addressing it. Please continue.

The Problem is Real

The poor in the African American community are in trouble and getting nowhere fast. Yes, there are many African americans living in stable homes, with strong educational backgrounds, and well-paying jobs, but am I crazy to believe that this constitutes a minority among blacks as a whole? Maybe not. According to recent research..

Average SAT scores: Black: 857, Hispanic: 903, White: 1063, Asian: 1083
1 in 3 African American Males drop out of high school
1 in 3 African American Males are involved in the penal system
Only 32% of African American Children have Fathers in the home
50% of African American Children live below the poverty line
African Americans constitute 12% of the population but account for 43% of HIV cases

And damning statistics continue.


The Original Struggle

The overall goal of the Civil Rights movement was to remove government sanctioned barriers that prevented Blacks from accessing the resources that were freely available to Whites. Exclusion from equal education and equal job opportunities, and real estate were some of the most visible and crippling sanctions forced on past generations. While racism is unlikely to ever be eradicated, America has made great strides in applying it’s founding principles of freedom and justice to the African American. Overt racism has grown less acceptable over the last four decades. Wrongs have often been addressed through the legal system.. However, racism does exist and it can work against Blacks at every level of employment and commerce.

Prosperity for Many

Many Blacks lacked the patience to wait for the U.S. Government to grant them “permission” to excel. Many Black professionals, business owners, and even politicians prevailed despite the restricted social climate prior to more favorable legislation. In the past three decades, educational and employment opportunities have become increasingly available and blacks have gained broader access to America’s vast resources.

But it appears there has only been a slight increase in the percentage of African Americans harnessing these resources to build stronger families, finances, and businesses. So why the dismal statistics quoted at the beginning of this article? Why are Blacks not taking advantage of the wide open opportunities?

Diagnosis

Since the early 60’s we have endlessly, and impotently, complained about the problems in the Black community. We have argued about the solutions. But the problems have only gotten worse. The problems the community faces:
Drugs (Cocaine, Crack, etc)
Teen pregnancy
Non-existent or distorted fatherhood
Street culture
Racism
These will be readily offered by anyone who has given some thought to the source of our current state of disarray. We could spend decades arguing about which is most significant and the appropriate way to deal with it. The time for argument has passed. We will never agree on everything. We don’t need another conference, another book, or another “Black Leader.” We need Men and Women of action. We need to address the cause of the disarray.
So what is the cause? I have read numerous articles, books, and blogs on the topic of improving the black community. I have heard all of the above listed factors and many more offered as reasons for the community’s decline. Although there are numerous problems to deal with, all of these individual issues point to a common theme. Young black people are not making good decisions.

They are choosing:
Time on the street vs time in school and studying
To have casual, irresponsible sex rather than establishing relationships and preparing for the responsibilities of parenthood
Instant gratification over savings and investments
Using violence as a means to status rather than intellectual and financial means
Why are our children making the wrong decisions???

The climate of severe poverty, with little potential for meaningful employment, combined with the spread of illegal drugs have given birth to what some would refer to as street culture. This culture has become a dominant force in the poor black community, and stands in direct opposition to mainstream society’s values of industriousness, responsibility and education.

Due to social and financial instability, many of the community’s youngsters lack parents that are capable of providing the support needed to deter them from aligning themseleves with the Street culture. Many children have a poor father figure or none at all. Too often, women are left to raise children, and provide for them financially. All of this with little education, earning potential, and life experience.

Treatment

Even in the worst of neighborhoods, and the most drug infested and crime ridden streets, it has been observed that a stable, two-parent home can often deter children from adopting the street culture. Sadly, this arrangment is not a possibility for many of today’s inner-city children simply because their parents have never had a proper example to model themselves after. But all is not lost. What is most valuable to children in these environments is having a person from which to learn the steps to achieving legitimate success. Black men and women who can stand up and say that ‘this is how you succeed in America’, and oppose the street culture. This is not a quick fix, and will certainly not be easy.
Two days ago. I met my ‘little brother' Jamal, as arranged by Big Brother Big Sister. He is an inner city Baltimore youth of 12 years. His father is addicted to drugs, and his mother died from her addiction last year. He lives with his grandmother and is doing terribly in school. I am coming into this child’s life to show him another path to success before the streets manipulate him into accepting theirs.

Unite

Obviously, I am only one man with his own personal responsibilities and life. I can help only one, maybe two children at a time. But what if there were many Black men and women in my position doing the same thing? Men and women who have worked hard to earn an education, and start a career and who were also committed to improving the life of another. Men and women who were committed to showing a child another way? Will any of you reading this today join me?

This blog is dedicated to the pursuit of a very narrow set of goals. All of which are aimed at putting intelligent, responsible, Black men and women in positions where they can be involved personally with black youth, and guide them towards good decision making and a brighter future.

Purpose

The purpose of this blog is inspire other young Black men and women to become involved personally in the life of a black child who has not had the benefit of a financially and socially stable family. I hope to inspire these men and women to action by sharing my experiences with my 'little brother' Jamal. Jamal (name changed for privacy) and I met yesterday for the first time with our case manager from Baltimore BigBrother BigSister.
Jamal is a 12 year old inner city Baltimore boy who has already dealt with some very difficult circumstances. His mother died a year ago from complications of her drug addiction, his father is a drug abuser and has sporadic contact with him. He currently lives with his Grandmother in a very clean apartment near downtown Baltimore. The block that he lives on is not very troublesome, but the adjacent area is known to be plagued with drugs and violence.
When I first met him, my impression was that he is quite shy and a bit smaller for his age. I have to admit that I was rather surprised at how polite he was as he let me in the front door and led me upstairs to the apartment. For 30 minutes we sat with the case manager to go over some rules for our friendship and outings. We wrapped things up by doing a little 'get to know you' activity where we shared our favorite things in a number of categories. Jamal and I have a lot in common it turns out. We both love playing basketball and video games, we both like drawing, and we both want to be doctors when we grow up. I had to run out to an evening event scheduled at the same time as our meeting. But before I left, I asked Jamal if he wanted to play some video games. He ended up crushing me in this car racing game that he's probably been playing for months. I hate racing games. But I had to build his confidence, you know.. give him a few victories before I introduce him to Halo 2 or some PS2 fighting games, games which I am known to dominate. I just think it's so sad when kids cry after a serious video game beating.