Some Progress

Whenever I travel to Baltimore, it is not uncommon for me to park some distance away from the hospital to save money, and to take a short cut through the seedier parts in the interest of time. When I do venture away from what many might consider 'safe zones,' I typically come across young Baltimoreans who cause me much frustration and disappointment.
Often, I will encounter a group of teenagers trying (or maybe not) to look as menacing as possible while flaunting their thuggish gait. As our distance closes, I overhear the latest rap single being recited (sometimes in unison, but not always). Upon examining their faces, there is usually one or more among with a mouthful of gaudy jewelry. I imagine that my reaction is similar to what a physical trainer experiences when he sees a severely obese person inhaling a double quarter pounder with bacon.
Time and time again I am overcome with a desire to snatch one of them up by the throat and scream into the recesses of their minds, I want to force them to understand the nature of the world in which we live. I want to tell them that if they're not aggressively educating themselves, they can expect a future that will probably be a lot bleaker than anything they're living through right now. I want to instill the futility and emptiness of their elaborate ghetto gestures, rituals, and values. I want them to know that they have no business fathering a child as long they cherish ignorance and disorder. But of course, I always stop myself short of anything more than a head nod, and an occasional 'what's up.' I'm typically greeted with the same, but periodically, the young ruffians may shoot me a look of contempt, or ignore me all together.
In the beginning, I looked to Big Brothers Big Sisters as an avenue to reach young menin a meaningful way. Knowledge alone is unlikely to inspire the needed change. I knew that I could only be effective if I built rapport with Jamal and let him know that he meant more to me than some kind of project or endeavor of goodwill. Otherwise, I might come off as some lunatic on the sidewalk spitting random advice.
So after more than a year of building our relationship, I have intentionally hardened my warnings to Jamal over the past month or so (no I haven't grabbed him by the throat). I have slowly progressed from gentle encouragement to harsh admonition about his future. After all, he is almost fourteen. He has only four years to establish effective study habits and discipline if he is to educate himself after high school.
With more time off I have been able to share a few weekday afternoons with him working on his math homework (his weakest subject) and we are actually getting somewhere. I have been rather surprised how quickly he progressed in a single week. It seems to me that all this time, he has probably just needed someone to sit down with him, encourage him, and let him know that they care about his performance. As usual, I will not know exactly how much he's improving until the end of the quarter. But the smile on his grandmother's face the last time I stopped in let's me know that something must be getting better.