Reaching Young Minds

A Tough Good bye

2008-06-13T17:35:00.001-07:00

I landed in Honolulu two weeks ago, and so far, things have been pleasant. Between workouts and trips to the beach, I scurry about the hospital and the nearby Army installation trying to fulfill all of my in processing requirements before the start of official business on July 1st. That's the day that I become an intern, and start soaking up all of the joy residency has to offer.
Before I left Maryland, I made sure that I shared one last afternoon with Jamal. His 14th Birthday fell about 4 days before I boarded the plane, so an outing for lunch and a movie seemed like the perfect way to say good-bye and Happy Birthday at the same time. I picked him up from the school office (along with his report card) and we headed out to Arundel Mills Mall to get something to eat before catching the Iron Man matinee. I had already seen the movie, but I enjoyed it enough to see it again with him.
During the more dialog heavy parts of the film, my mind drifted a little more than it usually would. I had been concerned for weeks about Jamal's future as he entered a very critical four year period of his adolescence. Tensions between him and grandma had been on the rise, his grades were plummeting, and he had started skipping class more and more frequently. I searched for replacement mentors among the men in the medical school's under three classes, my parents had considered adopting him, and I had even thought about adopting him myself for about three seconds. In the end, none of these were viable options, and I was just going to have to leave him in Baltimore with the hope that he will eventually find his way. What upset me most, as we sat there in the theatre, was that I was unable to reach him in the way that I had hoped. Despite tutoring sessions, visits to his school, talks with his grandmother, and many heart to heart conversations about the importance of academics, Jamal had another report card full of F's for his third quarter.
Amid the previous months of turmoil, I had been learning a tough reality about poverty, and it's effects on young people. I was starting to see that I could not make Jamal want anything badly enough to actually lift a finger. More and more, I understood that mentorship is not an adequate substitute for parenthood. It was never my job to fix everything, I was there to be a friend, to show him that there are options, and to let him decide. I just couldn't understand why he didn't seem to be choosing the road towards opportunity.
Jamal, like me, loves superhero stories. So it occurred to me that I may be able to draw a parallel between his life and that of Tony Stark in one last attempt to drive my point home. As we were getting in the car after the movie, I told him that sometimes life can be like that cave which imprisoned Tony stark. In the movie, Iron Man is born through Mr. Stark's desperation to escape his murderous captors before they can finish him off. In true Marvel fashion, he waxes about a dozen of them as he breaks free of the cave and rockets to safety in the Afghan desert. Just like Tony Stark, I told him, we can harness everything available to us, education, employment, and innate talents to design our own escape vehicles. He seemed to understand the analogy, but I know it takes more than that to make him buy into something.
Before leaving the mall, we stopped by the bookstore and picked out an art book. He likes the Japanese animation style, Manga. So I allowed him to select one of the many instruction books on the topic as my present to him. I made him promise that he would not lend it to anybody else or destroy it. He has consistently lost or destroyed gifts that I've given him in the past. I had been working for months to teach him more responsible stewardship, with little improvement (he kept losing things). But since it was his birthday, I wasn't going to deny him a gift for the sake of one last lesson.

On the way home, I pressed him a little closer about his grades:

"Do you think it is important to get good grades?"
He replied that he did.
"Then why are you not making it happen? I know you're smart enough."
He said that he didn't know.
"Actually, you DO know. But maybe you don't want to tell me."

At the distance of a few weeks, I realize that I probably made a mistake in how I approached him. During my years as an army officer, as a grade school tutor, and as a medical student, I was always taught to ask a little more. To assume that something else might be going on, but I failed to do that, and just moved forward with the assumption that Jamal was not motivated enough to study and do his work. And that may be part of it, but I'm disappointed that I failed to find out why.
I emphasized again that he has the power to remove himself from his current situation, and that it's up to him to create a better life for himself. Finally, I painted a picture of his future on the path that he has started. I told of my childhood acquaintances, cousins, and friends who ignored their academic development at his age and who now have low paying jobs or none at all, have fathered children, and have nothing to contribute to society at large. At this point he became quiet, and glared out the window. It was obvious that he was angry and didn't really want to talk anymore. I kind of wished that I hadn't pushed so hard, and I tried to alleviate the tension. I told him that I did not intend to make him angry, I just want him to take things seriously because four years from now may be too late.
As we stepped into his grandmother's kitchen for the last time, I kissed her good bye and handed Jamal a letter that I had written for him days before. It contained what I considered important, but simple advice for his teen years, my contact information, and a plea for him to call or email if he needs to talk, has a question, wants help, etc. As I said my final good bye and hugged him, I could tell that he was crying, but had turned away so that I wouldn't see. He said 'bye' and I slipped out into the building's hallway and down to the sidewalk.
So what now? What happens to Jamal? Where does he go from here? It's just him and his 74 year old grandmother whose health deteriorates by the week. His father is still addicted to heroine, and his mother died of AIDS complications three years ago. I've tried to be a model of black success, and show him that his color doesn't have to be an obstacle to progress and success. But as I examine the situation from this side of things, I realize that maybe color wasn't what he saw as the greatest obstacle. Poverty, Baltimore, it's pathetic school system, loneliness, frustration and stifling boredom are swallowing him alive. And without relief of some of these things, it's going to be hard for him to change course. I wish there was more that I could do, but my life is about to get very complicated, and he's 5,000 miles away. I will continue to check on him, and share what I know as he grows towards adulthood. Thanks for sharing the Big Brother experience with me.

Some Progress

2008-03-26T10:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Stare down

2008-03-12T21:35:00.001-07:00

A stand off between Louis and Jamal during a recent game of tag. Jamal still hasn't managed to catch him yet.

The Birds and the Bees

2008-03-10T09:38:00.000-07:00

Teenage and unwed pregnancy in Baltimore is a pretty serious problem among African Americans. During my time on a maternity ward in a city hospital, I noticed that almost every Black woman that I cared for was both unmarried and was currently, or had been pregnant as a teenager. An analysis of birthrates in 2003 demonstrated that Baltimore City is consistently among the highest in the nation with teen pregnancy comprising 18% of all births. I see this as one of the greatest problems to progress among impoverished black communities.

Generation after generation is having children before they have the means to offer that child a life better than their own. If I had unlimited power and influence, I would first make sure that every hospital in America was outfitted with Xbox 360 consoles in their bathrooms. Number two, I would revoke reproductive privilege in some of the hardest hit areas, and re-instate it on a case by case basis. However, I am but a mere mortal, so I'll have to settle for making sure that my little brother, Jamal, understands exactly how important it is that he keep his weapon holstered.

When he spilled the story of his first cheek kiss with girlfriend, Bonquelda (only in Baltimore), he mentioned that 'positive' peer pressure had a lot to do with it. And as innocent an encounter as that was, it wasn't hard for me to imagine him taking things further in the years to come as his hormones rage, and his buddies cheer him on.

Me: So what do you know about serious things between boys and girls? (Trying to be as vague as possible)

Jamal: I know all about the birds and the bees.

Me: Well do you know why it is so important that you not have sex?

He had a few of the answers I was looking for. Jamal is aware of diseases and the unwanted consequences of a pregnancy at this age. There's a girl in his middle school class who is with child. But still, he casually mentioned that "a condom can take care of all that." As true as that is, I reminded him of the possibility of failure or misuse, and the likelihood that someone his age would not use one everytime.

I am an ardent advocate of abstinence, but I am not naive enough to think that someone who has not been properly indoctrinated will actually adopt that as their primary birth control method. Jamal's family does not have a strong tradition of marriage, and I am among the few married adults that he knows.

My parents started working on me and my brothers very early. I can remember being sat down for lessons about lust, irresponsibility, and consequences of Biblical proportions at the age of seven. There was some overkill at times, but their technique has been proven effective:

"..according to data from the National Longitudinal Survey of Youth, 1997 cohort, even after taking account of characteristics such as race/ethnicity, mother’s education, and family structure. Teenagers whose parents have strong religious beliefs, who have higher levels of attendance at religious services, who participate in more family religious activities, and whose parents are affiliated with a religious denomination are less likely to have sex before age 18 than are teens without these characteristics."

I can see that the next generation of our family is reaping the benefits of this approach. My nephews and nieces are being born into stable homes where they will be very well provided for emotionally and financially.

Before putting the subject to rest, I told Jamal that abstinence is his best bet for many reasons. I tried to include his faith, and the potential heartache involved when young girls misinterpret a thrill-seeking boy's emotional investment. Some part of me doubts that any of that is really sticking. Puberty has begun, and reprogramming a young male with his eyes on the prize may be next to impossible.

Me: Just promise me that if you can't wait until marriage, you'll always use a condom

Jamal: okay

I'll be sure to revisit the issue.

"Report to the office immediately or you will be arrested"

2008-03-05T09:45:00.000-08:00

That's what I heard being announced over the school intercom as I approached the Middle School's main office to pick up Jamal's report card Monday afternoon. Upon entering, I was treated to a snapshot of his school's administrative faculty in action. A uniformed Baltimore Police officer was reading off a list of children who had been spotted loitering in the hallway, while the secretary was announcing their names. The principal was beside them both barking her disapproval with their technique. Minutes later, the first of the delinquents started to appear at the doorway.

"Are they serious? Arrested?" I asked the lady helping me with the report card.
"Yes, they will be taken to Baltimore Juvenile detention until their parents or whoever picks them up."

I had visited the office once about a year ago and didn't notice so much chaos. I wonder what the deal was today.

As each of students arrived, the Principal began yelling at them individually, raising her voice even louder to drown out their objections. Occasionally, she would glare over her shoulder and give an unresponsive member of her faculty the same treatment. I was a little embarrassed for everyone involved. It was a bit reminiscent of an early basic training experience, but a lot meaner.

Anyway, after about 10 minutes, the office administrator produced Jamal's report card and printed it. "You know, he's one of the good ones. He just needs some help caring about his school work" she tells me.

I'll say. I was stunned when I saw that he is carrying a D minus average (61%) over the first two quarters and is failing 3 out of his 5 classes halfway through the current quarter. His worst grades were in math where he has received F's (55% and 57%) for the first two quarters. Grandma told me that he wasn't doing well, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Only a year ago he had a 78% average for all of his classes. How is it that things have fallen so dramatically so quickly?

It sounds a bit presumptuous, but I have considered that my dwindling involvement with him this academic year may have played some role in it. Well, it was more than obvious that there is work to be done. I asked her if she would summon Jamal to the office before dismissal so that I could take him home with me. She very kindly cooperated and had him pulled from class.

When he strolled into the office, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see me. He actually appeared a little bothered. I didn't understand why, but I probed him a bit once we got outside. After a little more prodding, and poking, I finally got him to tell me that he has a girlfriend he was expecting to meet after school. Can you believe that? And on top of that, he had given her a gift earlier in the day (by way of a mutual friend) and he had been looking forward to their walk home from school so that he could see her response. I offered to take him back, but he said he would just catch up with her later. As we drove to my house, he told me all about his young lady friend. He described the excitement of his first kiss (cheek), and how disappointed he was that he had not yet received a reciprocal peck. How cute. Eventually, we got into serious territory with the whole kissing and girlfriend issue. I'll tell you about that a bit later.

Rebellion

2008-03-04T15:12:00.000-08:00

It's March! And the light at the end of the long, dark, and smelly sewage tunnel that has been my quest for the M.D. is brighter than ever. This month I am finishing my final course, Radiology. After that, I am free to do what I please until graduation in May. During this current month, my instructors have already made it clear that they only expect me to be present for about 2-3 hours daily. Never one to disappoint, I've managed to whittle that down to about and hour and a half on average . For the time being, I'm on easy street, and I have a lot of extra time on my hands. It's the perfect time to step things up a notch with Jamal since I'm departing shortly after graduation.

Since I have a bit more energy for the fight, I decided that once again, I would look into Jamal's grades. Around noon yesterday I gave Grandma a call to get permission to go to the middle school to pick up his report card. Before I could even get to that, she unleashed a half hour of grievances of her grandson's most recent behavior. He has been growing bolder, and more rebellious in recent months. As her health continues to fail, she is finding that he defies her more frequently on matters of school work, television, video games, and clandestine exploits with his buddies during school hours. She has also grown quite uncomfortable with his accelerated interest in females. As I listened, I tried my best to empathize with her, but I couldn't help but feel that some of it was probably a natural response to being young, under the influence of volatile hormones, and wanting to be one of the guys. I can't imagine what it must be like to live alone with a 72 year old disciplinarian when you're only 13.
Anyway, she's been through this before (she raised 10 children, and a few grandchildren) and feels as if she no longer has the energy to go through adolescence all over again with Jamal. She is open to moving him out of the house, and he has expressed a desire to leave, but all of the potential destinations would offer living conditions that are the same or worse than Grandma's. It's a difficult situation to say the least.

Before I left for the school, I told her that I would take Jamal home with me and spend some time with him. It won't fix everything, but it might allow him to let off some steam. Her narrative on Jamal's rebellion kind of reminded me of my 5 month-old beagle, Louis. He has a way of acting out if he doesn't burn off his extra energy each day. He's chewed into walls, humped legs and arms, bit, ran in circles, and whined incessantly as a response to neglect. The two met a few weeks ago and really hit it off, so I thought it might be mutually beneficial to get them together again.

I was fortunate to have a number of lively conversations with Jamal (for a change), and even had the chance to counsel him on some major issues during the course of our afternoon and evening. I'll cover some of that in other posts over the next week.

Losing Ground

2008-02-20T15:12:00.000-08:00

I saw a disturbing article in the New York times last week (I blog in slow motion), and felt compelled to bring it to the attention of anyone who might care. It comments on the findings of the Brookings institute's research regarding economic mobility in black and white families. Some of the most jarring statistics were those which demonstrated a downward trend among black families' economic success over the last generation.

"..almost half (45 percent) of black children whose parents were solidly middle class end up falling to the bottom of the income distribution, compared to only 16 percent of white children. Achieving middle-income status does not appear to protect black children from future economic adversity the same way it protects white children."

I have always taken a strong stance on black under achievement, some may even say that I am too harsh. But I find it difficult to interpret these statistics in a manner which does not implicate black parents in their own children's' failure. If we know that racism is a less potent inhibitor of academic and economic progress today than it was in the past, and the older generation is capable of attaining middle class status. Then it would only make sense that each generation should be doing better than the previous one. Black children losing academic and economic ground gained by their parents is an indication that parents are not instilling the discipline and work ethic that they relied on to achieve their own success. The Brookings Institute demonstrates that the major difference between white and black middle class families of equal income are lower black male incomes, and the high rate of single parenthood in the black family. In other words, the black family is unraveling. And despite middle class incomes in some families, money alone is not enough to ensure that children will remain on the straight and narrow. I've made it known in the past, that I don't believe that we as a people will ever reverse this negative trend, and I see this study as strong support of my beliefs. If a sizable portion of the legitimately successful among us are not passing it along to their children, then what does the future hold? I am confident that there will continue to be individual black children from all classes and family structures who will succeed (both with and without the help of mentors), but as a whole, I'm afraid that the downward spiral will claim far more than it allows to escape. Of course, I will never see this as a reason to stop reaching out to children in need.

Eighteen Months Later

2008-01-07T16:31:00.000-08:00

The month of December was hectic, mostly because it was spent finishing out the last of my strenuous medical school rotations. Around the middle of the month, the Army posted the assignments for all of their medical students, and granted me the best birthday present I've ever received. I'm headed back to Hawaii for five years of Orthopedic Surgery training! It was my number one choice for location and specialty. As exciting as this is, it's sad that it will reduce my mentoring relationship with Jamal to occasional phone calls, and perhaps an annual visit. Of course, with the demands of residency and the possibility of children of my own just around the corner, it's likely that even if I spent the next few years in Baltimore, we would be seeing a lot less of each other.
Anyway, during the Christmas holiday, we did spend some time together. We went to the local ice rink one afternoon, and I stopped by his house another afternoon to hang out for a bit. Despite not skating since we went almost a year ago, he picked it right back up and was tearing around the track for the last hour of our session. During the outing, we inevitably came to the topic of his grades. The quarter ended in November, but there's still no report card for me to read. It's the same old game. Baltimore schools don't give report cards to the students, so it's up to Grandma to call and request it. I've been through this before. Last year only two report cards ever made it home, and I carried one of those directly from the school myself. Jamal tried to convince me that I shouldn't worry about it because he doesn't think that he made our goal of 85% in every class. When I ask why, he just tells me "I don't know."
I could get frustrated, but I've decided that it's a waste of energy. Jamal is probably never going to be motivated to do more than whatever gets him by in the classroom. I'm going to have to accept that. He is however, really picking up the pace on his development as an artist. He continues to do his lessons from The Art Institutes each month, and I've heard good things about his progress from the staff there. I ran into a few who were familiar with his work when I enrolled myself in the course last month. So I'll continue to push him in that direction.
As we've spent time together over the last year and a half, I've often wondered when (if ever) would be the right time to correct some of his spoken grammar. He tends to speak with the poverty-laced dialect that is typical of Baltimore's children and adults. About six months ago, I decided to give it a try. After all, if he's going to grow up to go to college or art school, and work in the professional world, he's going to have to get in the habit of speaking that language. What I found is when I told him that "there ain't no" should be phrased as "there aren't any" he actually counter-corrected me. He was convinced that it was me who had it backwards. After a few more attempts spread across weeks to months with similar responses or total silence (indicating a degree of frustration) I've pretty much abandoned all grammar correction. What sense does it really make for me to step in a few times a month, and try to instill speech that is more appropriate for mainstream America, but is completely foreign to him? As I've heard in the past, our speech reflects the way we're spoken to. Jamal's grandmother, his closest family member, speaks to him with the dialect of a southern sharecropper with a sixth grade education. Combine that with the inner city Baltimore speech of his peers, and you can see that there are no obvious solutions to adjust his speech. So what can you really do? Sure, it's a part of who he is, but I can't help but think of how many opportunities he may miss in the future because he is never taken seriously.

You see what you did wrong?

2007-11-18T09:17:00.000-08:00

As I've mentioned before, the mentoring relationship that I share with my 'little' Jamal, has a funny way of teaching me things sometimes. About 4 months ago, he completed a mail in art test from the Art Instruction Schools. Maybe you've seen one of their commercials on television if you found yourself with nothing to do in the middle of a weekday afternoon. I had seen one or two of the commericals over the years, but never paid much attention to them. When Jamal showed me his completed mail in test, I was deeply impressed with his performance, but somewhat skeptical that anything useful would come of it. About a month later, a representative from the Art Instruction Schools came to his home to speak with Grandma about enrolling him in their course. When he told me that it costs about $100 a month, I was pretty sure that the young man and his grandmother had been roped into some kind of scheme. It wasn't until I saw him two weeks ago to hang out that I realized how inaccurate my assumptions were. Every few weeks they send him an instruction booklet that walks him through the steps of a particular technique or series of topics and includes a sheet for him to mail in a submission for evaluation. I was very impressed with the quality of the booklet and the credentials of the instructors cited. And what's even better, is that I can see how much Jamal has already improved.
During our last outing, we went to the Medical School library (it has a lot of quiet rooms) and watched a Batman the Animated Series DVD to search for the perfect scene or character to draw. He has told me before that he sometimes feels intimidated by me when we draw together because my picture tends to turn out looking more like the model we're using. I often remind him that I'm more than twice his age, and that I expect him to be a lot better than me 15 years from now. On this particular session, he did something he hadn't yet done. About 1o minutes into our project, he stopped working on his picture, peered over at my sketch pad, and asked "You see what you did wrong with her face?" I was actually getting a little frustrated with my picture when he brought it up, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that he had properly identified the problem. I had formed the chin on my villainess (word?) incorrectly, and it was in turn throwing off the relationships between all of her facial features. I made the correction, and the sketch ended up a lot better because of it.
I have been a casual artist since I was about 7 years old. My abilities continue to grow with age, but I have been buying books and materials over the past year and a half in an effort to accelerate my growth a bit. After flipping through Jamal's Art Instruction School Books, and observing his progress, I've decided to send off for that mail in art test. I'm not sure I want to drop $100 a month, but they do have a scholarship program, so maybe I can get a discount.

"I don't know." "Nothing."

2007-10-12T18:19:00.001-07:00

I realize that it's only fair to reveal that being a Big Brother isn't all smiles and high-fives. Sometimes hanging out with the kid can get a little annoying. For instance, Jamal has a habit of responding to questions about his day, school, or just about anything that I may ask him about with "I don't know" or "nothing." He has at times taken this to ridiculous extremes answering "I don't know" repeatedly if I ask him a series of questions which he very likely knows the answer to. I think of it as a game of "who's the dummy?" Me, for thinking that he really doesn't know the answer, or him for not knowing what happened on September 11th, 2001 (one of the questions I asked to begin a conversation about current events).
Last Saturday I made plans to spend my only day off in a span of eleven to take Jamal to out a 3-D movie at the Air and Space museum in D.C. For most of the trip down to the Metro Station, Jamal was very content to sit quietly and study the ridges on the cap of his soda bottle. When I tried to interrupt him with a question about school or even his leisure time around the house, he would respond with "nothing" or "I don't know." He has done this regularly since we met, but somehow I thought of it as shyness that would subside as our friendship grew. After about 10 minutes of this I was pretty irritated, but I did my best to hide it with a chuckle, and change of subject. Realizing that the only topic that would get more than a two or three word response out of him was video games, I broke down and asked him about his latest conquests. He was more than happy to tell me all about the best weapon to use against robot invaders and over sized monsters. Any attempts to change the subject were met with more of the same dull responses. You know, I wasn't exactly a master of conversation at the age of 13, but I did at least make an attempt to speak to an adult if he/she was showing some interest in my wellbeing. Except with my parents. But I saw them every day, so I feel like that's a little different.
Once we were at the metro station, I did succeed in getting Jamal to calculate the fare that we needed to pay to get to the Smithsonian stop on the Metro and back. He made a small miscalculation, but got the correct answer with a little coaching. The movie was very well narrated and filmed, and more than lived up to my expectations. Jamal's favorite part was a scene where rocks were being shot towards the audience during a rocket launch. The action played in full 3-D with loud stereo effects. The realism was impressive. He denies screaming like a frightened girl scout, but I have first hand knowledge to the contrary.
After the movie, we looked around the museum a little and headed out. Before getting back on the train, I thought it would be nice to look at something new. I took him by the Freer Art Gallery , to take in some cultural pieces from Asia. As we walked around we both noticed how empty the place was compared to the other museums and attractions we had been past. Within 5 minutes we realized why. It was the probably the most boring collection of displays that I could imagine being in one place. A PBS documentary on box factories would have been more exciting. We bounced. On our way back into the metro station, he decided to slip through the gate behind another patron so that he wouldn't have to use his metro card. He was so proud of himself when he told me about it. Of course, I realized that we were now going to encounter an error at our destination since it would appear as if he had teleported himself from Washington back to our station of origin. Once again, I was a little bothered, but I didn't say much other than "Don't do that again" in the most neutral tone that I could muster, and explained that not using your card to get through the gate constitutes theft. As expected, when we arrived at our destination the gate flashed a message "Please see the attendant." To set things straight quickly, I just moved him through with me and destroyed his card so that we wouldn't be stealing. All in all it was a good day, and I still have much love for the young man. But I 'm learning that despite wanting to do a good thing, I'm not immune to being irritated by his behavior at times. Maybe my expectations are too high. After all, I have established a relationship that makes me more of a buddy than an adult. Perhaps it's a good thing that he's relaxed enough to get on my nerves.

Back to School

2007-09-05T18:50:00.000-07:00

School began last week for Jamal, and I gave him a call before he started to discuss the new school year.

"So what are your goals for this year?"

"To pass."

I almost hit the ceiling when he replied. After all, we had been through this too many times for him to still think that just passing is actually a respectable goal. I chuckled a bit, hesitated, and then repeated myself. Maybe he just didn't understand the question. It wasn't until he quickly said that his goal was "to get nineties in all of my classes" that I realized he was actually joking with me. Good, so he has heard me. Of course, he immediately asked about what kind of loot I was going to bless him with for such a great achievement. Yeah, I don't like it either, but I have to get him moving somehow. I told him to give me some ideas, and that DVDs and video games are off limits. For now he has settled on a remote controlled airplane. I think he was really impressed by the models he saw flying around during the afternoon that he spent with my father. I made sure that he understood that a lot of those planes were beyond my budget for the prize. On my trip back from Hawaii, I was briefly tempted by the flimsy plastic R/C airplanes offered in this month's SkyMall catalog, but I'm probably going to have to do better than that if Jamal actually rises to the occasion.

Before we ended, I pressed him for some details on his plan for the quarter.

"How are you going to get these great grades all of the sudden?"

A good response would take considerable insight into what has been going wrong, as well as an understanding of how excellent students get it done, so I was very curious as to what exactly he would have to say.

"I'm going to do my homework and pay attention in class"

Pretty basic stuff, but I guess it can make a big difference if you haven't tried it yet. I'll see what's up when the progress reports come out in 5 weeks.

A Young Mind Takes Flight

2007-08-21T23:30:00.000-07:00

The Department of Defense was kind enough to sponsor me on an all expense paid trip to Honolulu for the month of August. Of course, I had to commit to long days of surgery and endless clinic hours in the Army Hospital there in exchange. They were kind enought to give me the weekends off to explore the island and and partake of all its recreational wonders. While I'm spending the weekends surfing, scuba diving, and hiking through wilderness, my father volunteered to pick up some of the slack with Jamal. A licensed pilot, and fanatical flight buff, he recently made another trip to the friendly skies above Prince George's County with Jamal in tow. His account of the weekend is below.

"...When I first mentioned it to him almost a year ago, he rejected the trip out of hand, showing no interest in flying around the county is a small aircraft, a Cessna 172 to be exact. But after we spent some time together, he actually seemed to warm up to the idea. We set the date, I reserved an aircraft at Freeway Airport for Saturday morning and it was a go.

All week, Jamal kept track of what the weather forecast. In fact, one day he called and asked me if we were going to fly if there was a thunderstorm. I assured him that if the weather was not nearly perfect – if we couldn’t see at least three miles in front of us, little wind, high clouds – that we probably would not go flying.

Then he asked an interesting question: If we don’t go flying Saturday morning, are you going to take me straight back home? At that point I realized that he actually enjoyed being around me. It was almost as if I had another son – except of course for the fact that he actually enjoyed being around me.

The weather was right on the edge Saturday morning. There was a broken layer of clouds at 1400 feet, and that meant we would not be taking a trip over the bay to have breakfast. Instead, we flew out to the practice area and fiddled around a little for about twenty minutes.

When we first took off, he was a little uncomfortable. And every time the plane shook, he was obviously startled. We got to listen to Air Traffic Control talk to a couple of heavies on approach to Baltimore Washington International, to Trooper 2 – a Maryland Highway Patrol Helicopter, and various general aviation aircraft like the one we were flying. He even got to listen to me as I participated in the air traffic exchanges. Interestingly, he said I sounded like a robot when I was talking to them.

We finished flying and had breakfast at one of the newer diners in the area. On the way back to the house – he had almost convinced me to return to the house and play video games – I stopped off at a hobby shop and looked around a bit.

That was when I saw the jet-propelled scale model of an F-4 Phantom. Jamal asked if the model could go as fast as the airplane we flew that morning. I arrogantly said “No.” After all, we were flying a real plane and our top speed was about 120 knots. It turned out that the radio controlled model had a top speed of 200 knots, real knots not scale ones.

In a case of pure serendipity, the worker-bee told us about the radio control club that flew out of PG County. I decided to take him (part of that exposure thing) and see what they were doing there.

As we pulled up to the field, I heard the unmistakable sound of a jet engine – a small jet engine – but a jet engine none the less. One of the enthusiasts was flying an RC Model that had a real jet engine in it.

It turns out the guy had spent over $5400 building the aircraft. We watched several other people fly their planes and once the jet fellow flew a second time, we left for home.

While we were driving from place to place, Jamal asked me to tell him the difference between a blimp and a hot air balloon. At that point I felt my fatherly impulses kicking in. As a result, when we finally got back to the house, I had him research the two (I also threw in the Zeppelin for good measure). An hour and a half later, with very little coaching from me, he explained the difference between a blimp, a hot air balloon, and a Zeppelin.

I think I made a little bit of progress with him. We didn’t play video games the entire time he was at my house. He had to stretch his brain, and he did something he had never done before (he did actually fly the plane for a moment). All in all, I think it was a good day. And more importantly, I think Jamal enjoyed himself and learned a lot about what it takes to succeed in life and perhaps even what the possibilities are for him. We should be seeing each other again in about a month."

I gave Jamal a call some days after the flight and he told me that he really enjoyed it. Despite being a little scared, he wants to go back up sometime soon.

Little Man

2007-07-31T12:47:00.001-07:00

My little brother, Jamal, truly embodies his title. He's short. Very short, to the point that you want to give him a lolly pop and pat him on the head at first glance. It's only when you hear him speak that you believe that he's actually 13. Given his troubled infancy, and his diet of McDonald's 4-6 times a week, I became a little concerned that he might have some kind of chronic disease or nutrient deficiency retarding his growth. I asked him if he was on any medications or if he had seen the doctor recently, and he replied that he was perfectly healthy and had been to a doctor within the last year. Apparently, his grandmother was concerned about the same thing and had taken him in to get measured.

While studying for this exam that I'm taking tomorrow, I did run across a little tidbit on growth and development that inspired me to go ahead and measure Jamal myself when I stopped through Baltimore a few days ago. According to the CDC Growth chart, he's in the 25th percentile for height for his age (translated: he's shorter than 75% of boys his age). That fact alone does not indicate that there's actually anything wrong with him. That combined with the fact that his sister had a huge growth spurt in her mid teens convinced me that he's probably alright. Grandma says he has another appointment soon, turns out he's seen in the same clinic that I was working in a few weeks ago. Before I left, I apologized for bringing the whole thing up (now that I knew he was relatively normal), I was afraid that I might have embarrassed him. But he just shrugged and asked when I was coming by next. It seems as if even after living through a year of middle school (cesspool of adolescent cruelty), he is the least bothered by his stature. Good for him.

One Year Later

2007-07-19T19:11:00.000-07:00

Last week marked the one year anniversary of my first meeting with Jamal and the beginning of our friendship. I'd love to say that he's grown 6 inches, earned straight A's, and started a successful non-profit under my tutelage, but that would be a slight exaggeration. Jamal is a good kid. He was quite bright and free of all signs of thuggishness before I met him, so I haven't exactly been fighting a battle to save him from the streets of Baltimore. His grandmother has established a solid moral compass in the child, but has left much work for me and others to do in getting him to realize his true potential and to sharpen his talents. That battle is far from over and will be ongoing into the next school year. There was a point when I had considered picking up a new 'little' and keeping loose contact with Jamal. But I suspect that I would probably just end up doing a marginal job with both, so I decided to focus on Jamal for as many years as our lives permit.

I'm pleased to have discovered a number of black authored "let's-stop-the-foolishness" blogs over the past year. They are great for generating and maintaining much needed discourse on the errant path that mainstream black culture seems to be taking as of late. Some of my favorites are listed to the right under the blogroll. But sometimes, I feel as if we have used these forums to echo back to one another our shared sentiments about the most offensive and destructive trends working their way through our community while the people who are a part of the problem skip over to the BET or The SOURCE web page. I started Reaching Young Minds so that I could push a few more of us to take things a step further, and get the message where it can make the most difference.. the children living under difficult circumstances in "high risk" neighborhoods. After all, they are the ones destined to become tomorrow's babies' daddies and criminals if something doesn't change.

It's easy to think that you don't have enough time to mentor a child, but after mentoring through my third year of medical school (huge time commitment), while planning a wedding, and shopping for and moving into a new home, I'd have to say that most people probably have time for it if they are willing to make the time. As long as you can stand being around someone else's child for more than an hour at a time, and you have an honest desire to make a difference, Big Brother Big Sister or a similar program is a great place to start.

Summer Time

2007-07-12T13:05:00.000-07:00

I am currently mid way through the first summer that I have spent exclusively in my hometown in almost 12 years. Although most of the time has been spent studying, and staring out the window when I should be studying, it has brought back a lot of good memories of summers past. We lived in a neighborhood full of children and friendly neighbors. So even when there was nothing special to do, there was always something to do. Exploration in the deep woods, riding bikes to forbidden locales, and playing outside until it was dark. Sadly, my 'little' isn't having that kind of summer.
I started to notice that he was inside everytime I called, but I was hesitant to believe that was the case all day everyday until I dropped in yesterday to see him. We spent most of the time talking about his latest pieces of art. I let him borrow a cartoon drawing book, and he's been hard at work trying to master some of the techniques. He asked me questions about different approaches to the cartoon human, and I showed him how to deal with hands and torsos, and clarified what the book was showing. All throughout this time I started asking about his daily activities for the past month. It turns out he IS actually staying in the house alone all day almost every day while his grandmother lays on the bed upstairs trying to stay cool. It's pretty sad, I had actually looked into some day programs before the summer started so we could prevent this sort of thing from happening. Obviously, I didn't find anything.

"So where are all of the other kids?"
They all moved away.

"How about your bike?"
It's broken.

"What about your cousins that I met that one time?"
They live too far away.

Quite sad, but since I'm very much in the books every day, living almost 40 minutes away, there's not a lot that I can do to improve his day to day right now. Makes me that much more pleased that I sprung him from Grandma's on the 4th of July a few weeks ago. We started the day with Go Karts at the local track, stopped by the cook out at my parent's house, and ended the day with a late showing of TRANSFORMERS. A great movie I must say. There's nothing quite as cool as seeing your old animated heroes on the big screen in live action. I was blown away by the fact that they used the same voice actor for Optimus Prime that they used 20 years ago on the cartoon. Jamal doesn't know much about the old show, but he really liked the movie and hung the poster up in his room.
I should have a week long break from all responsibility starting two weekends from now. That is, if I can get ready for this test in time. If I do, it will give me the chance to spend a lot of time with Jamal and possibly make this summer a little more memorable for him.

I'm Back

2007-07-01T20:23:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, but I have an excuse this time, really. From the end of April until last week I had been living through a whirlwind of moving, getting part of the house renovated, getting married, and taking final exams to wrap up my third year. Quite hectic I have to say, but through it all I actually managed to keep up with Jamal from week to week.
The wedding was held in NY, near my Wife's hometown and on the campus of my undergraduate alma mater. I had a great time at the wedding, and as promised, my father picked Jamal up from Baltimore and kept him company during the event weekend and through the ceremony and reception. It was good to see him mingling with my friends and family, and generally having a good time. As weddings go, I didn't get to spend too much time with him individually, but I did follow up with him a week later. He approved of the festivities and said that he had enjoyed himself.
School ended about two weeks ago, and report cards were mailed home in the middle of last week. On a good note, he called me the day he received his report card to let me know how he did. Sadly, he told me that he passed as if he was unsure whether or not he was going to pull it out. Unfortunately, Jamal's grades have grown progressively worse with each passing quarter this year. That is particularly frustrating to me since we both sat down in December and set a goal of improving his academic performance.
Almost two months ago, I gave him a firm talking to about his progress report (all C's and D's), telling him that I knew he could do better, and trying to explain how important good grades are to his future. He acted as if he understood (and had even heard it before), but continued to ignore assignments, and play video games instead of studying until the grading period ended.
As I look back on my first year of mentorship, I would like to say that it was successful, but since my only truly objective measurement of success (grades) did not demonstrate this, it's hard to walk away with that impression. I realize that it's quite possible that the impact of my presence in his life may not be felt for many years. And I'm learning that instant gratification cannot be the nature of my motivation when it comes to our "therapeutic relationship." I must learn to deal with the fact that progress will be slow and at times invisible.
I've come to believe that raising a child to do well in school is part inspiration and part discipline. I think that how much of each is needed depends on the child. At this point, it's clear to me that Jamal needs a lot more discipline, which is something that I cannot (and will not) provide given my role as a Big Brother. Unfortunately, when it comes to school, his grandmother has demonstrated time and again that she either does not know how or simply will not give him the structure that he needs. So I feel as if I'm at a bit of an impasse with regards to getting him to achieve. At this point, I'm left to look forward to another year, and continue to work on developing his artistic talents, affirming his self worth, and helping him see beyond the stereotypes that surround him on a daily basis.

Trying to Keep up

2007-05-18T09:28:00.000-07:00

In preparation for my quickly approaching marriage, I moved back to the suburban city that I grew up in. This, of course, puts Jamal and I at a huge disadvantage as far as spending time is concerned. Instead of running or driving a mile to his house, I will have to drive 40 minutes just to get there (if traffic is light). There's been so much chaos surrounding the move and the wedding preparations that I haven't seen him in about three weeks. He calls me weekly to ask if we can go somewhere and I feel terrible when I have to give him the same answer. I can tell that he's extremely bored, and I have no doubts that he's probably already called everyone on his grandmother's pre-approved visitation list before he gets to me each week. But it's still encouraging to know that he'll come to me for that sort of thing.
Since I can't visit, I've just settled for phone conversations, discussing school, his grandmother, cartoons, and inevitably, video games (it's the only topic that seems to get him interested on the phone). As of right now, I plan to bring him to the wedding. My father volunteered to transport and keep track of him while I take care of the final details and recite my vows. Hopefully, our wedding will be something that he remembers for a long time, and he will grow towards seeing marriage as positive and a normal thing to do.

Baltimore Sun

2007-04-26T21:18:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday felt like an afternoon out of my own childhood. It was the warmest it's been in Baltimore this year, and I thought it would be a great day for Jamal and I to get together. When I called over to his grandmother's house, he told me that he was doing... that's right.. "nothing." Well I couldn't imagine why any able-bodied child should be inside the house on a day like that so we made plans for me to drop by.
Instead of driving, I decided to run to his house (it's only a mile and a half) so that I could squeeze some exercise out of afternoon as well. On the way over, I realized that I had seen very little of his neighborhood up to this point since we spent most of our afternoons going out. This gave me a great idea for how we could spend the afternoon. Once I arrived, we set off for his favorite places to go. We zig-zagged through about 5 blocks, running most of the way between each play area that he frequents. Most of them were just your standard jungle gym, basketball court, and swing set arrangements. We played on, and climbed over everything we could find, and raced each other up and down a few side walks (I had to give him a few meters head start). I even managed to get him to do push-ups with me. In a few places, he showed me his favorite daredevil stunts. I had to stop him in mid-demonstration of his most dangerous one because I was having visions of me carrying his limp body back to his Grandmother and explaining why I let him break his neck right in front of me. I was very impressed and pleasantly surprised by my little brother's fitness level, agility, and foot speed. Particularly since he seems to enjoy giving me the impression that he's very inactive and lazy.
After ripping and running, we returned to Grandma's house to get a drink. As of late, I've become very anti-video gaming with my little brother, hoping that I can direct his interests towards more productive pass times. But since we did spend the day outdoors, I thought I could make a small concession before I took off for home. I probably shouldn't have bothered though, because it was just more of the same embarrassment with me getting blasted game after game of Smash Brothers while he laughed. As I was heading out, he handed me one of two walkie-talkies that he was recently given by his father. Apparently, Dad shows up rather sporadically, bearing gifts for the young man. He wanted me to take it with me so that we could talk whenever we want, without having to use the telephones. It didn't look like it had a range of more than 1 mile, but on the run back to my apartment, I radioed back to him each block so we could determine it's true range. Turns out they're good for about 8 blocks. Not too bad, but it looks like we're still going to have to use the telephone.

Young Men in Baltimore Stepping Up

2007-04-19T05:08:00.000-07:00

Teaching Teenagers to Live Strong- Baltimore Sun

I ran across this article the other day in the Baltimore Sun and thought I would share it with those who had not. This is another good example of insightful adults using the peer relationship to build cohesion and positive work ethic rather than oppose it. Kudos to these young men and their mentors.

Small Lessons

2007-03-29T20:25:00.000-07:00

Most days whenever I call my little brother and ask him what he's doing, he tells me "nothing." By that, I thought he meant nothing in particular. But Sunday afternoon I saw that he really means ABSOLUTELY nothing. When I scooped little man up, he was playing around with an almost empty bottle of Krazy glue. He told me that he had been gluing his fingers together and then separating them for the past day or so, and that he had purchased the bottle for that sole purpose. Fascinating. Well at least he's not sniffing it I thought to myself. I didn't see a need to intervene until I noticed that he was chewing the residue off of his fingers. "Alright, take your fingers our of your mouth."

Whoa, where did that come from?

Frightened by how much I sounded like my father, I realized that I would have to approach this delicately. As a big brother, it's my responsibility to promote good decision making without coming off as a surrogate parent, or too bossy. Once we made it to my apartment, I set him up with some soap and a sink full of water, and asked him to scrub the glue off. The whole ordeal wasn't really that big of a deal, but given that he "likes the taste of it" and that glue fumes are damaging teenage brains all over America, I thought that I should make it clear that recreational exposure to Krazy glue is a bad idea.

We started the afternoon watching all of the action scenes from 2003's THE HULK. In the interest of staying awake, we skipped all of the dialogue and just soaked up the car tossing, tank smashing action. Afterwards, he asked for some help drawing more realistic superhero figures and faces. An avid fan of comic book art myself, I used one of my books to walk him through some step by step directions. Jamal is a very good cartoon artist, but he's finding it difficult to take the human form to the next level (as most people do at that age).
Throughout the course of our impromptu lesson he grew more frustrated with his drawing and wanted to quit and do something else. I insisted that he finish his picture, and helped him make adjustments until he was more satisfied with it. I felt that it was important for me to push him a little bit, and show him the value of sticking it out. Once again, I tried my best to do this without irritating the young man or being too authoritative. In the end, he seemed pleased with his drawing, and went home with copies of some of the book's pages so that he could practice on his own.
I know that Jamal has potential for great things artistically and academically. Although I cannot instill the discipline he'll need to maximize his abilities, I hope that I have inspired him and taught him some of the things that he will need along the way.

Keep it Moving

2007-03-20T19:22:00.000-07:00

Jamal and I have been maintaining for the past few weeks mostly in the form of phone calls with the occaisional drop in. We even managed to squeeze in a trip to the bowling alley a couple of weeks back when there was a snow day that coincided with one of my days off.
Always eager to assess his progress, I've been pressuring his grandmother to get his second quarter report card which has been available for 8 weeks at this point. I could go up to the school and get it myself once again, but I feel like it's really not my job at this point. I need to help her become more involved in his academic development. She seems to knows that generally, it's a good thing to get good grades, but has showed little understanding of how important it is to monitor the grades on his report card instead of random graded papers that trickle into the house (which she says are improving lately). Is it harsh to think that she's woefully negligent for not having mastered the art of holding a child accountable for schoolwork after 8+ children and a few grandchildren? I don't think so. But I suppose if she had been successful with this thus far, Jamal may not have ever come to my attention.
Anyway, my 3 month surgery rotation ends this week, so there should be an opportunity for Jamal and I to share another outing. I'd like to get him out and moving since he uses his asthma as an excuse for him to do no physical activity whatsoever. Of course, he has no idea where his inhaler is, and has never experienced an emergency so I'm skeptical. But lucky for him, the emergency room just happens to be right next to the campus gym.

Positive Peer Pressure

2007-02-22T18:16:00.000-08:00

Black Parents Seek to Raise Ambitions - Washington Post

I was excited to read about this group of parents from Virginia a few days ago. They have taken aim at the "crabs in a bucket" mentality that has been blamed as a major player in the black achievement gap. Not surprisingly, they have seen the attitudes and grades of their children improve as a result. I experienced a similar dynamic growing up as I followed the same set of motivated peers from elementary school to high school. I believe that the encouragement and competition that we shared among one another was part of what kept us from buying into alot of the anti-academic attitudes that were alarmingly popular among our fellow students. That and the threat of violence from our parents.

Six Months Later

2007-01-30T18:49:00.002-08:00

Last week marked six months since Jamal and I first met. In celebration, our case manager from Big Brother Big Sister bombarded me with voicemail and email messages requesting that I give her my thoughts and complete a survey on the arrangement up to this point.
The case manager’s harassment turned out to be a good thing since it reminded me that we hadn’t hung out for some weeks. When given a choice between another museum and ice skating, Jamal decided on the ice rink. He found it awkward at first and asked me for a pointer every few laps as we coasted around the rink. Usually, he would shoot off half way through my explanation, eager to put it into practice. By the end of our two hour session he had become pretty difficult to catch when we had a one lap race. That was partly due to his tendency to intentionally weave around small children so that I would have to slow down or risk body checking one of them into the glass. We both enjoyed the afternoon, and he actually said that it was more fun than roller skating, which he does somewhat frequently.
As I look back on the past six months, my objectives for the mentorship, and Jamal’s development, I am pleased. I signed up for the program with the hope that I would get the chance to guide a young, black, pre-adolescent down a path that leads to a brighter future. And for the most part, I believe that Jamal is moving in that direction.
Socially, his grandmother’s rigid limitations have prevented him from falling into peer groups likely to encourage violent or destructive behaviors. So for the time being, I believe that he is more than capable of dealing with the negative peer pressure that is typical of his age group.
Academically, he seems to be trying harder, but I won’t have an objective measure of improvement until his 3rd quarter grades are released. He does seem responsive to my encouragement. He keeps me updated on what assignments he’s working on and as we were driving back from the ice rink, he brought up the topic of our goal of a 90% average for the coming quarter without prompting. It’s quite possible that it had more to do with him specifying which accessories I should include with the Gamecube console that I set as his incentive, than the grades themselves. But even if that is the case, he knows the goal and has made it clear that he intends to achieve it.
Most importantly, our relationship has become a genuine friendship. My fiancée claims that I wish I could be 11 for the rest of my life, which would make a 12 year old friend ideal. But the ability to use our friendship to influence Jamal’s perspective and decisions is perhaps its greatest benefit.

Progress Report

2006-12-29T05:58:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-18T17:33:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-06T22:11:00.000-08:00

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

2006-10-22T07:05:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-09T21:31:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-05T19:02:00.000-07:00

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

2006-10-03T19:25:00.000-07:00

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

2006-09-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

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

2006-08-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

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'

2006-08-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

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

2006-07-31T15:05:00.000-07:00

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?

2006-07-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

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

2006-07-26T07:34:00.000-07:00

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.