Everyone Needs A Hero!

Sounds silly doesn't it? I'm a grown man of 38 years and I'm still looking for heroes to learn from and to emulate. There's one man that continually surprises me with his passion and talents and that's - Denzel Washington.

I must admit that this brother definitely has his act together. As a black man who's a few years younger than Denzel, I can still look at him as a positive role model.

I'll admit early in this piece for the skeptics out there that I have no idea what goes on in this man's house and I'm definitely not saying this man is a saint. What I am saying is that this Brother has got "passion and balls."

The first story I ever read about Denzel was in an old GQ magazine. It talked about the time Denzel turned down a number of roles during his early years of his career because his wife had just been offered a staring role in an off Broadway production. Denzel's career had just started to blossom and to take himself out of the mix could have been a death sentence. But to him, his wife's career was just as important as his so. He stayed home. Someone needed to stay home and raise the kids and Denzel was the man. He became my hero right then and there since I wasn't sure I could have made that call. I ain't too sure I could stay married to one woman over all of that time with the numerous "distractions" I'm sure this brother is offered on a day to day basis. Can you believe this man has been married to the same woman for over 16 years?!

Denzel has four kids that he raises as if he's just a regular Joe. I've read so many accounts that describe the changes he has made in his life to be a "participatory" father - from having all of his movie contracts include trips back home every weekend to car pooling and teaching his son's little league. Dude got true game in my eyes.

The release of his newest movie "The Hurricane" has thrown him into the spotlight again. He was being interviewed by Ed Bradley (another brother high on my list) for 60 Minutes a couple of weeks ago. I loved the interview because it's so good to see two solid, sharp brothers having an intelligent conversation. I checked the movie out a week later and was not disappointed. I'm talking two thumbs way up or two HIGH fives, whatever way you want it, for a brilliant movie.

The clip they showed during the interview on 60 minutes will always be my Denzel Washington highlight. They were showing the clip from "Glory", which not enough people have seen (black or white), and it hit me just as strongly as it did the first time I sat in the theatre and watched this scene.

Denzel is part of the first black volunteer army during the civil war. He's about to get his ass whipped for leaving camp to find some shoes for his boys. They start to strip away his shirt but he pushes the fool aside and tears the shirt from his own back. A that point you can see his back clearly and all of the previous scars from other whippings he received as a slave that covered his entire back. Denzel spits defiantly on the ground and takes his place next to the post. As the other soldiers look on, Denzel received his lashes and the insolence and anger never leaves his face as one single tear rolls down his cheek. Damn! The boy got skills. All I could think about as I watched this was gang banging the entire crew and killing all the white folks. I believed every moment and wanted to see more and I wasn't the only one in the house who hung onto his every scene-stealing act.

THIS BROTHER WON THE WHITE MAN'S OSCAR FOR THIS ROLE AND EVERY OTHER AWARD WORTH MENTIONING INCLUDING THE NAACP IMAGE AWARD!

As I write this, it dawns on me that this is the same effect I want to have on my readers. I want you to feel the same kind of passion from my work. I want you to leave your world and hop into mine. I guess I want to be a hero to those fathers who are fighting to be more than just a weekly child support check. I want to be a hero for those men who keep trying to be a daddy and husband even when his greatest critic is his child's mother. I want to be Denzel but in another venue. I want to write the words that can help us all change as fathers and brothers.

Denzel will always be my hero and one day I hope that someone can write about me and the things I made them feel and challenges I put before them as a parent and a brother. But until then I'm going to hold on to my hero and pray that I can be as dedicated a father as Denzel is to his four kids while still sharpening my skills in my arena as he has in his.

As I said earlier - "Ain't nothing wrong with looking up to your hero especially if the brother’s putting it down like Denzel!"

I heard it again today!

I tend to always notice this train of thought from folks – especially sisters - after something bad happens in this cruel make believe world we live in.

I was eating lunch in the food court at the mall when I over heard three of my sisters talking about how the world is so close to its last days. One pretty professionally dressed sister was so passionate in her plea that the recent earthquake in Turkey was a definite sign sent from God above that His Son was about to visit us soon and Armageddon was close to fulfillment.

The BBW of the group was quick to pick up on and comment that the recent school shooting’s were definite signs that the basic fabric of our world was so close to being ripped apart. She firmly believes that her son will never have a chance to grow up and see adulthood.

The third sister in the group just nodded her head in agreement before adding that she believes that many third world countries had nuclear weapons pointing straight for our shores and was just waiting for the Devil to give them the order to fire.

My initial reaction was to just laugh at their overacting and silliness to the world we live in, but I used every ounce of my control and continued with my meal.

I’ve heard this kind of talk my entire life, but I have a problem with this kind of thinking because I don’t see how any black person cannot love the life we are living in today!

Yes, there is crime, drugs, despair, and abuse interlaced into the lives we live but there is also a world here our ancestors would have died to live in. And, many did die just so that we can have what we have now. My grandmother who was born in 1903 never had an opportunity to learn to read or write, much less have the chance to author a web site. She was born on a plantation in Mississippi and was denied all of the basic rights we now take for granted. I still remember watching her write her name on documents and realizing that she had no idea what she was signing because she could not read and the only words she could write was her name. My 7-year-old daughter reads on the 7th grade level NOW and she’s only in 3rd grade. She has been blessed with the opportunity to attend a private "black owned and operated" school. The school has its own gym, basketball and tennis court, and computers in every classroom as well as teachers who give a damn. This is such a big jump from having the right to learn denied to you because of the color of your skin to having all of the tools and love needed to learn on an entirely different level. My grandmother would be so proud!

My grandmother and grandfather lived in a five-room house that was blessed with love. It had a small living room connected to the dining room that also held 2 small twin beds and a gas stove. The kitchen was tiny by today’s comparisons and the bath was connected to it. The bath had one of those big old tubs in it that dominated the room. The final two rooms held the grandfather and grandmothers bedrooms. They always slept in separate rooms in separate twin beds. The house was beautiful but it was a rented house that my grandparents struggled to pay for. I am a proud owner of my 4th home. The house I have the honor of raising my kids in can fit three of my grandparent’s houses into it and I own it. My how times have changed! Can you imagine how silly I would sound whining to my parents and grandparents about how tough the world is now?

Lets talk about more than the material things now. I can hear someone out there reading this and thinking about how material things do not make a better world or a person happy. But I say bullshit! Having the right to compete on all levels – make that most levels, the boardrooms today are still all white males – as well as the training to compete makes a big difference. I can go and do what I want when it comes to most things. I can remember my Daddy telling us of the time he was pulled off of the public bus because he refused to sit behind the "for colored only" sign. Bad enough he was in uniform having just gotten back from Korean War in 1958 but there was no one on the bus but one other white man. This particular cracker was incensed that my father wouldn’t sit in the back of the bus and flagged down the first police car he saw. My father was dragged off the bus and beaten by a group of cops then left on the curb to die. Why didn’t the world cease to exist then? When was the last time someone told you that you can’t sit where you want to sit and beat the hell out of you with no consequences? I go where I want to go when I want to go as well as sit where I want to sit. It’s a better world to me. I don’t want it to end.

Why didn’t the world end when our women were being raped, when my brothers were being beat, and when we were treated like cattle – sold and bred for the benefit of our owners? Can you imagine a white man coming into your home today and taking your child and selling him or her on a whim? Just because he wanted to! Why didn’t God send his only son down when this shit was going on? Where was the anger in our God for the world we were forced to live in for over 340 years? Why was the world not condemned then?

I am proud of the world we live in but I am not satisfied. I will never be satisfied with abuse, violence, ignorance, prejudice, and dependency on drugs and alcohol that are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to this world’s problems. But I will not buy into the irrational thoughts that the world we live in is so much worse than the one our ancestors have fought to get away from. I will not fall for the theory that this world is totally corrupt. I believe we were put here to endure and grow but not in a "perfect world" scenario. I believe that no matter where we were and no matter how far we go we will always have strive and drama to deal with. This is reality not HEAVEN!

So the next time you hear someone tell you how bad things are now and how close we are to seeing the last days before the coming of our Savior, remind them of how great you have it.

Somebody Explain This Shit To Me

There is a recent article in the Essence magazine that a number of women have called and e-mailed me about. A young brother of 25 writes of his relationship with a much older woman 41. My first surprise was that the age difference was not the issue – the issue was that the brother is willingly participating in a consensual celibate relationship. For my brothers and sisters unaware of the meaning of the word celibacy – it means they have decided not to screw, f*ck, make love, have sex or knock the boots. His woman had laid down the law that she won’t have sex with him or anyone else until they are married.

He goes on to talk about how the relationship is so much deeper because he’s had to learn to control himself. The act of celibacy has forced him to learn how to express himself in ways other than intercourse. He has no pressure to perform and she has taught him to be a lover through full body massages and cuddling.

In my world this brother’s got problems galore!

First of all has he ever stopped to calculate how much more fun this woman has had in the extra 16 years she’s had on him. She was in high school getting her freak on when his mother was in labor, bring his easily manipulated butt into this world.

And yes, I did say he was on the easy to manipulate side of the fence.

How does he know this woman isn’t practicing celibacy for the pure reason she just doesn’t like sex? Wouldn’t you like to be a bug on the honeymoon suite wall on consummation night when he finds her dry, uncomfortable and very uninterested in the act of making love.

How happy will he be, married and horny, as she tells him the real reason behind her celibacy – I’ve never really liked sex!

OK. Maybe I am exaggerating this a little but some or all of this could be true. Ask yourself how many times you’ve gotten out of bed with a potential perfect partner to realize the sex was simply a nightmare. One incident of this magnitude is more than enough reason to justify "testing the product before you buy it for a lifetime." The Number 1 reason why most relationships end today is because of sex, not money.

In this fake God fearing society we try to act like sex is not that important, but lets be real here. What’s the most exhilarating, passionate, intense legal act you can do with your clothes on or off?

If you didn’t say make love, fuck, screw, or knocking the boots you need a new lover or a new therapist. I’ll never forget an incident in high school that to this day still freaks me out when I think about it. There were these two older guys in the back of the public bus talking about getting high. One guy states rather boldly that he would rather smoke a joint than make love to a beautiful and passionate woman. We all looked at him like he was crazy – even though most of us had never even had sex before! But we knew that nothing was better than sex!

Another problem with loving and committing without testing the product is the fact that the product is going to mutate anyway. Being sexually compatible is an ever-changing issue for most couples. To start a relationship off with the written in stone proclamation of no sex until wedding bells is ludicrous. People change. Men as well as woman. Today your girlfriend may want to sex you up twice a day, try almost anything in the world the both of you can conjure up. But after the wedding is over and she’s dropped a couple of bundles of joy, the last thing she may want from you after a hard day is your persistent meddling for sex. Number one reason why men stray from home after they get married is because for whatever reason – Wifey Poo has shut down the tunnel of joy! So I believe you should enjoy the fruits of your labor now…. Time may be short!

So for my Brother who’s being lead down the road of celibacy…… SET YOURSELF FREE!!! And enjoy the fruits of your labor!

2005 - A Brand New School Year Has Started

And guess what? My kids are just as crazy and lost as they were this same time LAST YEAR!

Each of my three kids, born four years apart, come with their own drama and the beginning of the school year makes that drama even more compelling. Logan, my only son, whose stuck in the middle of his two sisters age wise started the year off pissed because the first day of school happens to fall on his birthday. The nerve of the entire school system to pick his birthday of all days to begin books, homework and hell. He spent the entire summer reminding anyone who'd listen that this had to be a personal attack directed right at him on the part of educators and administrators everywhere. Why oh why would they do this to him? My response to all of this was, 'Boy grow the hell up and move on. Be lucky you're here to celebrate a birthday. And ain't your Momma giving you a big 'ole party at Dave and Buster's --- Dave and Buster's FOLKS!! My momma never had enough money to do the McDonalds party and he's serving his 9th year birthday at some fancy restaurant. Poor ole Logan! And let's not forget the gifts and people that showed up for this event. Do I sound jealous? I am. Anyway… Getting back to the first day. He survived and had the nerve to tell me when I spoke to him that night that school was a lot more fun than he thought it would be and he figured he could and I quote "get with it!"

Cree, my oldest at 13, was just as disgusted with school starting but for different reasons. She would much rather spend all day on the computer IM'ing her friends and writing fantasy novels than be cooped up in anyone's classroom. This summer was spent doing a lot of that but for the first time she really participated in playing tennis with me and working out in general, so the computer time was much warranted. This is Cree's first year of high school and she's had the honor of picking the school she wanted to attend which was of course not the one I wanted her to go to. But, at her age I want her to be responsible for herself and as she put it, all of her friends from last year will be there and it is a school for gifted students. Gifted? When did we start labeling the geeks and daydreamers - gifted? And yes my daughter is a geek and a major daydreamer and believe it or not she's pretty proud of that title. She ended the first day complaining about the long day and even longer bus ride but the smile in her heart was hard to miss. She seems to be growing up in plain sight and I love the young lady she's turning into.

My baby …. And I do mean my baby, Chase woke up that morning with one overwhelming declaration. She was positive that there was nothing in the world school could teach her and that she was smart enough already. That particular proclamation had us in stitches the entire morning. She stumped around the house, bottom lip out until I gave her the Daddy look. And yes I do have a serious Daddy look that works a whole better than a raised voice or a whupping. By the time she was picked up from school she was planning her next day's events and talking non-stop about the cool kids and new teacher she has.

I take heart in knowing that another school year started and its just another step in getting them all grown up and out of my house! :

On a serious note … I have to take a moment and commend those single mothers who are adjusting their life again to less hours for themselves and less money to do more with, as we begin this new school year. Hang in there and know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. For those sperm donors who are oblivious of what another school year brings to their rightful offspring … Grow the fuck up and step up. Instead of going out chasing another fantasy invest your time and money into the reality you have here growing up and out around you. And just for the record, I'm talking about brothers from EVERY social and economic circumstance. I hate to admit it but I know some well to do brothers that have the time and the money and they still can't or won't contribute to their children's well being and education. And it's not even all about money. Go to the school and meet with your kids for lunch. Meet their teachers. Show up after school and help them with the homework. Call Mom's and ask her if you can be the lead on your kids next project or book report. Instead of wasting your money on drugs, another X-Box game, liquor, cigarettes or some other woman, handle up on the business that's really important. I don't care what kind of a relationship you have with your baby's momma - horrible, good or bad - step up and make it happen. I am speaking from what I know folks. My ex and I hate each others guts but we work thru it for the sake of the kids. And we hate each other just as much AFTER we've taken care of their needs. If we can do it ANY two responsible and loving parents can do the same. Give your kids a heads up on life's lessons you've already paid the Piper for. That alone is worth a fortune. Trust me on this my brothers …. There is NOTHING in this world more important than that Brat that carries your DNA … Nothing … Act like you know what I'm talking about even if you ain't feeling that fatherly bond … I can guarantee you that the more time you spend looking into the eyes and soul of your children the less important all of those other things become … Next month, on this column, we'll talk about the things you're missing if you still haven't come around …

Men, Memories and Family

As I travel across this confused country promoting my novel 'Until Death Do Us Part!', I have had the pleasure and opportunity to meet some very interesting and complex people. October of this year I had the satisfaction of sharing my work with a small group of readers in Detroit, Michigan at the BlackStar Community Bookstore. There I met a very proud African-American grandfather who was spending the day with his grandson.

Watching this quiet thoughtful man introduce his grandson to some of our great authors and their words bought back so many memories for me and my time with my father and grandfather. As these memories washed over me I had to take a moment to introduce myself to this elder and applaud him on his desire to pass on the love and knowledge to the younger generation. As I've preached so many times before, exceptional knowledge, wealth and commitment are generational commodities. And in that I mean rich people are born with the foundation for financial richness from the previous generation, be it life insurance, educational commitment, etc. So I would be lying to say I wasn't totally knocked on my ass when this elder thanked me for the compliment but added that he wouldn't have to be here with his grandson if his son was more willing to be the daddy for his only son and child. I listened intently to the pain in his voice while watching the anguish written in bold black marks across his face as he spoke of the splintered relationship his son has with his own child with the overwhelming question of WHY!!!! I too asked myself - What in the world are we doing as black men to our black boys?

This broken Grandfather continued speaking passionately of the love and commitment he shared with his son as a child, never knowing that these lessons and sacrifices wouldn't be passed on to his grandson. My elder continued his story in detail about the sacrifices he had made for many years to educate, love and teach his son of the importance and need of a man in a Manchild's life. I listened intently and waited for a logical reason for his son's behavior, knowing there is no such thing. His son's verbal and illogical reasoning for not being a responsible parent and role model, for not passing on the commitment and fatherly love went like this - 'Pops, I need to get myself together before I can do for anyone!'

Now, ain't that the stupidest shit you've ever heard?

I have to admit that at that point in our sharing I wanted to throw the fuck up!!!! All of the words I know and writing classes I've sat thru could not grant me with the gift to convey the sickness in my soul I felt at that moment.

Waiting until he's together to be a father! PUHLEEZE!

I consider myself a father in every aspect of the word but am I together? What the hell does together mean? Does together mean having a job? If that's one of the testing points for being together I am failing that job description miserably. I am a casualty of low stock prices and BellSouth's desire to get lean and mean. They gave me my walking papers over three months ago and I'm still searching for my next gig. And for those who don't know, writing and selling your first and only novel is not a real time job or money making venture. But like most brothers, I am a true hustler and my kids want for nothing. Tuition is paid every month. They have clothes on their back and food on the table. Christmas will be visiting my home this year. Does a committed father have to be married or have a good working relationship with their baby's Momma? Again, if that's a must, I'm losing that battle too. I am legally divorced with joint physical custody of all three of my kids. My ex and I communicate as little as possible but that doesn't stop me from working with her on keeping my kids healthy, educated and blessed - difficult as that can be. Getting it together - what a cop out! How many other brothers out here are using that same flimsy excuse for not supporting and loving their kids? Am I a minority in being a divorced father with a strong desire to be a loving participant in my children's life? I am reminded of my minority status every time I write a column like this but my blinders are thick with ignorance. I cannot believe or to be more truthful I don't want to believe the horror stories I hear from single mothers that are the majority when it comes to statistically being the primary caregivers and wage earners. I want to believe that most of my male friends are fighting the fight to be the fathers we dreamed about as kids. But the realities being forced into my consciousness are so hard and now I have to swallow the same edict from a grandfather about his own son. From a man who tried to pass on to his son the teaching of love and commitment to his family. I think I'm going to be sick!

This conversation has opened the door to another nightmare I never envisioned. Is loving and raising my first and only son Logan to be a real man a wasted effort for me? Will my son pass on the discipline, love, respect and attention to his son or daughter by his actions, eyes and mouth? Will the memories and emotions we are building together be demonstrated and passed on to the next generation? Will I wake up one morning and find myself being the caregiver for his son and my grandson? Talk about opening up a can of worms that has never seen the light of day. The questions and doubts are building immense structures in my vivid imagination as I contemplate that drama but I honestly think I'd just kill his ass if he played me like that.

All of this speculation brings me to ground zero and I ask myself what was it about my father's teaching that made me want to be that participatory parent? What can I do now to make sure Logan handles this awesome responsibility? The answers have to be in my past. As I look back on my relationship with my father I believe it has a lot to do with the things he did and DIDN'T do. My father was a major force when I was growing up until my junior and senior years of high school. He believed in discipline, working hard for every dime, not accepting anything less than you were capable of accomplishing. In his mind if you had proven to him that you were an A student, you had better not bring a B into his house. Maximum effort for maximum capabilities! This foundation carried me into the world when he wasn't around after my parents were divorced. My younger brother, who's eight years my junior, swears he never got that foundation from my father. And, I can't argue with him on that. My parents' divorce changed the dynamics of my father's commitment. He never had an opportunity or should I say made the time and energy to build a bond with my brother and my youngest sister. Now, my brother has a daughter and I don't think he's as committed as he should be to her. Born without the marriage license or the love two people need to have when they lay down and conceive a child, my brother and his baby's mama fight often in regards to how much time he can or cannot spend with his daughter. The courts and his stupidity have stripped him of his daily parental rights and he only gets to see his daughter every other weekend. So his degree of commitment is different as a parent. Is he doing the kind of job I think he should - NO! Have I talked to him about it? I talk to him about commitment as many times as I can get his ear. But, part of his issue is his selfishness. His world is more important than his world with his daughter. The selfishness and imperfect prioritization issues I see in him I didn't see in my male icons who I have tried to emulate. So maybe the key is to set the example and expect your child to bring it to the next level. Maybe this grandfather's pain is but a small blip on the screen. I sit here now trying to think of another man's story of abandonment for his seed when given the benefit of love, training and history. I can think of no other.

As I write this horror story I have this overwhelming memory of my grandfather. Poppie as we respectfully called him was my father's father. Another strong man in my family, imperfect in ways as he was perfect in others. Silent, strong and blessed with a beautiful smile he was my hero before I knew what a hero was. When I looked at him I saw my dad as I hope my son looks at my father and sees me.

When I was a kid growing up on the mean streets of New Orleans, I'd get an opportunity to stay at my grandparents' house every now and then. A small four room home as I see it now was a place of warmth and security when I was a child. On this particular stay I was the only one of my siblings to sleep over for the weekend. I was about 9 or 10 when I awoke in one of the two twin beds, eyes not quite open, my senses not yet focused or aware of my surroundings. But the warmth and comfort was unmistakable, even in this state of mind. The warmth was provided by the heat rising from the gas stove with the metal coffee can filled with water sitting on top. My family was always intelligent when it came to making the regular things work for them in uncommon ways. That simple can filled with water provided our home with moisture back in those days. They call that a humidifier now and we pay about fifty dollars for them. My other source of heat was from the heavy covers that wrapped up my skinny body which were not there when I finally dozed off the nite before. I knew instinctively who had tucked me in when I was unable to do for myself.

In the kitchen, which was the very next room, I could smell the yellow grits on the stove and the sound of the fat pork links sizzling in the pan. As good as all of that was the bed and safety it provided was even better, so this little man wasn't moving. I figured my grandmother, who we called Ma (Maw) was up cooking the breakfast as she has always done being the matriarch and silent boss of the family. I was shocked though to hear Poppie's footfalls and soft humming. I pushed the covers away and before I could get my bare feet to the floor my grandfather entered the room. Genetics is an awesome concept that a simple man like me stands in awe of, so to this day when I see my father slowly and deliberately entering a room, I see my grandfather as he walked through his kingdom that morning. As they say the apple never falls far from the tree.

"Boy, you ready to eat?" he asked, smiling that smile I miss so much these days. My grandfather's been dead for almost fifteen years and I still miss him, his stern eyes and pearly white smirk.

Poppie dished up one of the best meals I've had in my forty years that day. If I could explain to you the warmth and closeness I felt for my grandfather, I would be in the running for my Pulitzer. It wasn't the food that made the breakfast so special, it was the conversation I shared with my grandfather. I couldn't tell you what we discussed over the two hours we talked that morning but the love and bonding we enjoyed has been with me since forever. The way he made sure the Saturday morning comics were on for me to see or the loving discipline he showed as he scurried me off to the bath to brush my teeth and wash my face. The bond we shared from setting the breakfast table together and checking out the morning comics could never be duplicated. These were ever present silent gifts given with love and compassion.

Being a daddy, a son and a grandson that my elders could always be proud of has always been about being a responsible and loving father. Responsible in every way possible - as a father for my kids, their future and the legacy I have been asked to pass on. If there was a way I could bottle the bond I've always had with the men before me in my family as well as the love and commitment to my kids and give it away to every man out here who has a child, I WOULD! Can this article touch one man out there? Is it silly for me to believe that maybe the words on this page can change one man's path? Who really knows, but I'm not going to stop trying. I want you to end this moment we are sharing by wanting to build a bond to create the great memories with your kids that will last a lifetime if you don't have them now. I want you to fight for the love and respect that is earned not given. I want the son of that distraught grandfather to wake up and join the battle and take over the role that's rightfully his and raise his own damn son. I want all of the men out here to concentrate on doing homework with their kids every night and not on the current Bimbo of the moment, nightclub opening, sports event or strip club invitation. Accept this challenge and join the crusade to take over in the lives of our children for this is and will be our greatest contribution to this world and future generations for years to come.