Raised or spoiled

Point of order:
1] left the shop round 830. A woman was driving in front of me weaving and I could see she was like texting on her phone, I flashed my lights she threw the finger weaved and sped some more and a cop pulled her over. Are folks that stupid? I laughed as I passed her under I20.

2] I slept to 945 today and turned in almost as soon as I got home last night – yum.

3] My folk did a book review and interview on me, im flattered.

Ok, sorry about that, I mean yawl having to deal with the back in forth with a commenter and myself and several others. Any who, on these few days before father’s day, I just wanted to say a few words and offer some blessings to fathers that are putting it down for lack of a better phrase.

See as men, we know the value of family, which means that family and especially our children are the most important tangible asset we have. We know it is not how many cars we drive or how much money we obtain but rather how much time we give providing, nurturing and raising our kids to hopefully become responsible adults.

Too many of our boys do not see this and as a consequence fail to recognize and worse replicate manhood in one form of attribution – being a father. Likewise, too many of our little girls grow up without a father in their household and fail to recognize what role the father plays in said household. For boys, it may manifest in running the streets and never being man enough to be faithful to a single woman or even respecting women as one would their sister or mother. Foe girls, it may manifest itself in that traditional view of I don’t need a man or that their looks and sex is all that defines them.

So you fathers out there, hats off to you. We know it is not a single day but each second of each minute of each hour we receive our reward and understanding of fatherhood. We know that we want to give and spoil all of those under our roof what ever we can even when we cant, but don’t because we know that by spoiling our children, we do a dis-service to our ultimate goal – raising them to be hardworking and responsible adult human beings that never feel sorry for themselves or blame others for the miss steps and bad experiences in their lives. Yep, there is a difference between spoiling a child and raising a child and I would like to think that fathers, who are fathers, know the differences and intentionally shy away from the first. So keep on doing and for those of us who have women in our lives that cant value our role or need, turn the other cheek, for although they may not admit it, God knows what we do is a good thing, something we are supposed to do, and remarkable and for me that reward enough.

ps: props to Ken Griffey Jr on that 600th jack

Afraid to Parent

It was my intention to get the following off my chest last week. However, I was blessed with the notification that my latest book came off the press, and so I went with that. But something else happened that same day that has tormented me since it occurred. The same day my book was released, I went up to my son’s school to drop him off $80.00 for some baseball cleats (they just lost their first game, 8-5, canceled to rain now they 3 –1; he stole 4 bases). While there, I had to wait. A beautiful sunny Friday in Georgia it was. I was in a good mood because I had just secured painters to do the spot I had selected for my dog store. Yet at the same time, I was kind of up set. Not because of the day, because it had started out a little chilly. So I left the house knotted in a Khaki colored Canali two piece suits with 3 buttons, a multicolor blue stripped Pink (not the color) shirt and a pair of suede open toe sandals. Meaning my feet was cold well up until 2pm. Since I know most of the Black students at his school, I walked up the step to give some dap to one of his friends who played football and basketball with him. We talked and I asked him if he had seen my son. He said no. We talked more, and he informed that he had a 3.1 GPA when I asked about his grades. A young lady next to him asked if I was looking for my son and I said yes. Using her cell phone she called someone to tell him that I was waiting for him.
Eventually I saw him walking up the side of the school with one of his folk. He followed me to the car and I gave him the loot.

As I was pulling out of my parking space in the rental I was driving, a wave of students rushed toward me. Looking ahead, since I was backing out, I saw several boys fighting. Instantly I threw that shit in park, and with door wide open, ran to intervene. I would estimate about five boys fighting. As I handled one set of three, a mother whose son plays football, baseball and basketball with my son ran to assist me, at the same time, his football coach did too. It only took us about 20 seconds to break it up. All he time I am screaming at the top of my vocal cords to all involved “This is why jails full of folk like you already, yawl ass need to be in the library. I also turned to the crowed and said yawl stupid too running to a fight if they started shooting, yawl would have been wondering why you got shot by a stray bullet.

Coach came by and thanked me. I know they were kids, and that kids will be kids, but what I could not understand was how could maybe 20 or thirty other parents who were just as closer or closer than I was did not attempt to stop the foolishness? I even so one-man rush his son in the car when it started, and another lock their door. I could tell that coach saw the same thing because we looked at each other and just shook our heads as if to say it was a shame, to both the fight and the fact no other parents attempted to help.

I don’t know if it was what I observed as a child, seeing everybody in my neighborhood act as if they were my mother or father, or all my years of coaching little league baseball and AAU basketball that made me do what I did. Regardless, I felt it was what I was supposed to do as a parent, I mean, I felt if they were all my son’s and daughters. The only good thing was I didn’t mess up my suit, or stub my toes, and more importantly, I saw my son (in picture) and his folk still at the top of the stairs. They along with a few others did not run to the stupidity.

He did come back down to the car as I was getting back in and said, “Yo pop’s, You still looking good.”

“Main, I’m just glad you aint run too see it.”

“Well I would have, cause for a minute I thought they were gone swing on you and me and all my boys would have swooped on folk.”

I laughed, rubbed his head and said “Lil daddy, as long as yawl didn’t run to watch I’m cool, ‘cause any fool can fight, but a man can run away, and if needed, break one up.”

I just don’t get it, are folks really afraid to be parents and accept the responsibility and blessing to be such, or are they afraid to honor the parental commitment to kid, all kids in general? Maybe I was wrong for sticking my nose in and breaking up the fight. But what did I have to loose, other than my divine belief that we are all responsible for our community and our kids.

PS: Shouts to lil daddy, his 9 stolen bases leads the team and tied in district for lead. Grady High School Knights 5-1.

to whom it may concern:

NOTE: I wrote this last year when my son's school suspended him for defending himself after a white boy hit him. Didn't want to write on politics today so I found this. Hope u dont mind. And for the record, he was reinstated that day. The things they try and do to our young men. Fathers stand tall.

I am writing this letter in reference to the disturbance that my son (in picture) was alledgedly involved in on Wednesday, November 14, 2007. I am disconcerted given from my terse understanding of the situation and the resulting suspension of my son. More disheartening is the understanding that the white male youth was not suspended when he was involved as a "mutual combatant."

First is the recantation overheard by my son regarding the comparison of the participants in a monochromatic fashion, specifically the references of behaviors described as "black" and "white." I would hope that professionals such as you would not participate in the usage of stereotypical references that would suggest, "everyone knows black boys can fight." Or that the clothes one wears is indicative of being in "a gang."

Such a locution, I would remind you is similar to he disposition of those school administrators involved in the "Jena Six" situation. Albeit on a smaller scale, the white students involved were not suspended nor dismissed and the punishment was less sever than the young black men involved. I would have anticipated that professionalism would have proffered better judgment. I was informed that my son ran from the scene when in fact he walked to basketball practice as he does each day at that time. In addition, was informed that he was handcuffed, when neither he nor his associated resisted arrest. Lastly, I was informed that he was accosted verbally as t why he changed clothes, when it should be common knowledge that one changes clothes for basketball practice as well as football practice, which he also did regularly.

There is an additional concern regarding the LABELING of my son as being part of a gang and/or exhibiting "gang-like" behavior. I would like to know your definition of gang like given the courts have admitted that such definitions are broad and not exact enough to connote actual gang membership or participation in a gang. Four your information I have included four such definitions. Neither of the three apply to my son for he is not a criminal, nor an eloquent, nor had any social affiliation with the first youth who accosted the alleged victim.

1. A group of criminals or hoodlums who band together for mutual protection and profit.
2. A group of adolescents who band together, especially a group of delinquents.
3. Informal. A group of people who associate regularly on a social basis: The whole gang from the office went to a clambake.

An additional point of order regards the videotape. From my current understanding, I do not see the exercise of due diligence nor due process on your behalf. I understand it is the essence of your allegations, since only the words of the white youth were accepted as the truth. Again, I hope the stereotypical assertions of what a white person says when compared to a black person is always right. If such is the case, then it is an incessant extension of history fro Dred Scott, to Medgar Evers, to the Sccotsboro Boys and Emmitt Till who were convicted on the lies of white men just based on the fact they came from white people. Due diligence serves to confirm all material facts in investigation. Such would mean that you would look at the cell phone video and discern if it was complete or chopped or edited. If the first portion of the fight was not on the tape, according to you purview, they way in which the tape is being used against my son, then there is a chance the first fight did not occur. Then there is the issue of sequence. Was the tape in the sequences of events as described by the young man who asked my son "if he wanted some too?" And proceeded to hit him. The history of America dictates that Black men defend them selves from white men. I am certain you can understand why such is the case, regardless of the size of the individual. Due diligence means that you would know that my son has never been involved in a fight throughout his public school tenure. Can you say the same for the alleged victim? Or did you not investigate such before you made your presupposed judgment of guilt against my son.

As an infectious disease expert and a behavioral epidemiologist, I use a corpus of variables to come to conclusions regarding disease prevalence, vector concentration and tenable pandemic expectations. Not a single variable, nor the single word of a single material witness. I would advocate that you seek the truth in this mater and defer from your stereotypical purview of asserting that black youth, particularly males are always the perpetrators and their word can never be trusted.

Respectfully,

Torrance T. Stephens, PhD.

I have attached my CV for the record.

We turned two yesterday

We turned two yesterday. Not really me or my son, but my little princess. Nothing real major other than a few gifts and the ubiquitous cake and party at the daycare center of five kids. But still it was a special day, and our special things included to use what many would consider boring.

After getting my hair washed by a friend, I picked lil momma and the real party was on. With her, it began by assisting in the demolishing of a three-piece fish snack with fries and eventually passing out in the car seat on the way home. Yes, she is a true party animal. After a quick nap, we were out again to get her brother who was playing in his third baseball game in three nights. As usual at all the baseball games, she tries to follow her brother to the dug out but waits behind him, calling his name with her fingers through the fence. She has a ball at the baseball field and enjoys the games. She even points and says “Ba’’ball” when it is on television or at the park.

The game was ok; it was their third win in a row this week and ended with a final score of 12 to 1. My son had an error this game. But it happens, not to mention I told him it was Karma. See last week he was mad because he did not get the MVP trophy on his high school baseball team. They gave it to the senior, which they should have. He got the most outstanding offensive and defensive player trophies, in the ninth grade and that was 2 out of three. He had the errors I figured because he was complaining and was not humble.
But he knew it was her birthday too and he smiled and we got some chicken wings (40). Went home in celebration, without cake and watched San Antonio get up in some Cleveland ass. Yep a good day. Albeit i'm gonna waste some loot at Chucky Cheese Sunday, it was good day. It was like we all turned two years old.

i miss coaching little league

I just realized how much I miss coaching little league baseball. Yea, I played baseball my entire life, but I did not know how much I really missed coaching until this week. Over the weekend, I found out that a kid that played in my league, a fine young man that we played against was found murdered along with his cousin in Union City. When I heard the news for the first time, I over looked it namely because I could not fathom that I would know the individuals. I was however saddened that such reckless violence was taking place and that we lost two great futures in the progress.

They say little African American boys are not playing baseball anymore. I know the numbers are dwindling, but I want to disagree. We played baseball at old national and we won. We had several state champions since I was coaching there including my T-Ball team (40-2). I had my boys since they were four and they are 14 now. In addition, we had fun, sub states, districts and the whole nine. My best memory was my 9-10 team beating the best team in our league on a lasting double play hit to my son at second base and his shot to home when the bases were loaded. 5-4 was the final score and they had scored three runs in the last inning until we got the force out and ran off the field. That year we sent 4 teams to the state and 3 of ours to the sub-state.


But last night it really sank in, at the Braves game, sitting behind the dugout with my number one son and number one daughter. I love baseball. And what I liked most about coaching was that it taught young men: to depend on teammates and work with others (because you cannot bat every time nor can you play each position at the same time). But what I remember most, other than the dugout chatter “we got em scared now”, was what I always told them. “Anybody can be an athlete, but you all have to be scholars, gentleman and athletes in that order. Rest in peace Delarlonva Mattox.

Death Do Us Part

As a father my nigger, I can’t imagine what Tony Dungy is going through. I don’t know if he is like me - my first born is my son, I'd be losing control. According to reports, James Dungy, the 18-year-old son of the Indianapolis Colts head coach, was found dead. At 6 feet seven, he was a massive figure of a young man.

If you have been sleeping under a rock, Dungy is the head coach of a team who just received their first lost and known for being the scape goat for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The year they fired him, his team, and not John Gruden’s, won the Super Bowl. Dungy is a man of stern character and always has the right things to say all the time. Albeit I never met the man, I sincerely suspect that he is a man in all since of the word, meaning his family (immediate and football team) come first.

The situation really puts things in perspective. After all, we are grown men who query at the extremes about a game and sport called football. We, in particular reporters - which am not, ask questions about the mundane and decisions on a 100 yard field that really don’t add much to the lexicon of daily life styles, choices and values.

According to ESPN, the medical examiner's office has not announced the exact cause of death which will be determined by an autopsy, scheduled for Friday morning. Like I said, I could not begin to fathom, how I would feel, being successful, and extremely involved in my son’s life, to hear that he was dead at such a tender age. Please , you men especially, grab your son’s, little brother’s, cousin’s and nephews and show them their value while they are still alive - all precious gifts leave our fold sooner or latter. Let’s just pray that it is latter.