Archive for May, 2010
#46) Unceasing Value
I talk with my mother by phone, roughly once a week. We share a few laughs, exchange updates, and most certainly she imparts some motherly wisdom that is always as timely as it is valuable. It’s different listening to mom nowadays. Within one conversation, we can move from friendly adult banter, to mother-to-son encouragement, to son-to-mother technological tips, and much more. Although there are times when I feel I’m just too busy, I erroneously assume to see, to hear, to hug, and to talk with her again.
Seriously, who doesn’t feel that way?
About two weeks ago, I would say that my best friend, Jason, felt that way. Perhaps, even with the hospital visit on Mother’s Day, there was no warning, no precursor for the emptiness that he feels today. We are never prepared for our mothers to no longer be with us. It is never a good time to be without our mothers, but eventually our time may come.
Although our mothers may depart from us physically, we must understand that they are always within our souls. We may even find ourselves uttering their colloquialisms, as I often do:
“The race is not given to the swift nor the strong but they that endureth to the end”
“Don’t make no hasty moves”
“If it don’t get ya in the wash, it’s gonna get ya in the rinse”
“Every shut eye ain’t sleep and every good-bye ain’t gone”
However, wisdom imparted is not restricted to our birth mothers. Our OTHER mothers provide valuable guidance along the way.
A few months ago, I took my daughters bowling. Because of their young age, they were permitted to bowl in the bumper lanes. These bumper lanes are equipped with bumpers on both sides, so that the ball doesn’t go into the gutter. My youngest with all her fierce determination, bowls a mighty slow ball. Her ball rolls and bumps, and bumps, and bumps along those bumpers as it proceeds toward the pins. In life, I was a ball bowled by my parents. As I proceeded ever so slowly, I had some bumps along the way. But due to my age, I was being bowled in the bumper lanes. Bumper lanes equipped with bumpers named Mama Stephani and Aunt N’Jeri, that bumped me back toward my goals with sound wisdom, encouragement, awesome “sin-sational” desserts, and occasional-but-loving-threats. Their love and concern provided bumpers to keep me and our other friends out of the gutter. The evidence shows that our bumper lanes guided us toward lives of responsibility, happiness, and manhood. We are prepared to go forward in life without bumpers, but that damn sure doesn’t mean we look forward to it. Our arrival at the pins of manhood does not diminish the value and love we have for our bumpers; however, our lives are a testimony to their effectiveness and purpose.
Without Mama Stephani, we proceed along the bumper-less lanes of life. But we are better, more focused, wholly prepared, responsible young men because of her guidance … and that has a value that will never cease.
Jason & his mother, Stephani Cain
R.I.P. STEPHANI CAIN
WE ARE THE MEN WE’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOU.
WE LOVE YOU.
#45) Why God, Why?
Too often, we are inundated with grim statistics and morbid stories about young Black men. Too familiar are the stories about their educational under-performance, the likelihood of their incarceration, or their alleged lack of respect or responsibility. Too painful to describe, capture or measure, a mother’s immense pain due to the loss of a son. Too complicated to convey an understanding to a little brother who has suddenly and tragically witnessed the murder of his big brother. Too sad is the occasion that prompts this writing…
It takes a young man like Avondre to dispel those grim statistics. It takes a young man like Avondre to give us hope that the future of young Black men is promising, that things are changing for the better. It takes a young man like Avondre to remind us that the love and direction of a committed mother, the nurturance and support of a church community, the inner fire for achievement, and a willingness to listen, all come together to empower an exceptional young man with a bright future.
Today without Avondre, the brightness of his future has been dimmed. Our hopes for his success have been dashed. Our ambitions for his promise have been crushed. Our faith has been shaken and our despondence multiplied. And all we are left with is “Why?”
Why does fate deal such a tragic devastating hand to a mother who has worked so hard?
Why have we become desensitized to the violence destroying our communities?
Why does a young man with so much to learn, so much to share, why do the blades of misfortune hack him down before he blooms?
Why, God, why …
As we search for answers and consolation, we are left with options that are few. However, there is one answer that will not bring Avondre back; but can begin to turn the tides of our communal misery. The answer that begins tipping the scale the other way lies in the answer to this question: now that Avondre (and countless others like him) is gone, what are you going to do about it?
This grief may never subside. I will adjust to it; carry it around like a broken, inoperable appendage. But I will not lay it down, because to lay it down would be to forsake the purpose of rebuilding our community. To lay it down would equate to forgetting the pain, the sacrifice, and the struggle for us to be here. To lay it down would be to diminish the brilliance of a life gone too soon.
In those moments of engaging with the youth of our church, the overriding goal was for us to provide lessons to them. But for me, a young man like Avondre became a lesson of what could be. As a father of daughters, what kind of young man would I like them interact and befriend? Would he be respectful? Avondre was. Would he be intelligent? Avondre was that, too. Would he embrace the love of Jesus and reflect the hopes of the community? Avondre indeed did those things and more. Would he live to fulfill his destiny? I wish I could answer that because it seems that Avondre had so much more to do.
Avondre (2nd from right) with Reverend Mike and friends
Yet, in being the young man that his mother shaped him to be, Avondre had done something for all of us. Simply, by being a promising young man and giving us hope that there are and will be other young Black men with whom we can envision a brighter future. If only that hope could dispel this pain.
Our prayers are with Avondre’s mother, brother, family and community. Our lives are better because he was …
#44) In a Position To Make Plays
Certain times of year resonate with sports fans – March Madness, the Masters, Wimbledon, the World Series, the NFL Playoffs and well, you get the picture. As an earnest sports fan, very often sports vernacular infiltrates my conversation. Recently, while watching the NBA Playoffs, a sports phrase that is frequently used by my brother Damon comes to mind. Damon has teenagers who are steadily approaching adulthood. Of those teens, he verbalizes his paternal responsibilities as putting his children “in a position to make plays.”
What does it means to make plays? Making plays means that the participant has developed skills, practices in preparation for moments of adversity, and understands when to apply their skills. Damon and his wife Mary are doing a pretty good job of putting their children in the position to make plays. During the NBA Playoffs, I have noticed that in the most contested games, the winning coach typically has diagramed a strategy that puts his players in a position to make plays. Moreover, in the best classrooms, I have learned that the most effective teachers put their students in position to make plays.
Rosa Billingslea is a teacher who puts her students in a position to make plays. Our kindergarten teachers were one of our most effective grade level units when I was assistant principal. We had a solid core, and the addition of another teacher had to be more than just any hire – it would be more like indoctrinating someone into a family.
Mrs. Billingslea reflects my most ironic attribute as an administrator. I began pursuing administration jobs at 26 years old. After a year of weekly rejections, I finally earned an opportunity. The irony is that it would appear that a young administrator would have a predisposition to young teachers. I have hired my share of young teachers; however, my strongest preference, as personified by Mrs. Billingslea, is to hire second-career, mature-adult, novice teachers. What they lack in classroom experience is superlatively compensated by their abundance of life experience.
Joining a successful team presents its share of challenges; yet, Mrs. Billingslea was able to have an impact through the utilization of her voice or better yet emphasizing the uniqueness of her teaching style. One of her strategies for engagement and assessment was role-playing. In Mrs. Billingslea’s class, students didn’t just read a book. They created artistic interpretations of it. They conducted skits of the texts that were short in time but long in re-enforcing the concepts of the books they had read. Mrs. Billingslea taught one lesson in a variety of ways. In utilizing a multiplicity of strategies, she tapped into the diverse learning styles of her students. She essentially put her students in positions to make plays.
Our kindergarten team was truly exceptional Ms. Phillips, Miss Van Tol, and Miss Hernandez were the definitive, formidable bedrocks of education at our school. In addition to their outstanding work, the following year while our first grade teachers were piling the work on young learners, I noticed a few students who sort of approached their work in an out-of-the-box manner. A couple of students did not ask the typical first grade questions, students with varied perspectives of stories shared by their first grade teachers. I recognized each of those little learners. The year before, they were all in Mrs. Billingslea’s class, and now they were entrenched in their positions demonstrating the ability to make plays.