Most of My Role Models Were Black
I looked up to John Lennon and Robin Williams as a child, and I’ve had plenty of white role models. But, as a teenager most of my role models were African American.
At fifteen my family moved into a homeless shelter in Stamford, Connecticut. Out of the hundred or so single mothers there, we were one of two white families.
Around ten families lived together in each wing of the building. We shared a living room, bathroom, and a kitchen (and a fridge!). We also shared the same financial situation. We were a community.
We mingled, cooked, cleaned, and watched each other’s kids. We fought and made up like any family. On Christmas I even dressed up as Santa for the building. I remember thinking, “Won’t these kids notice I’m white?”
I cherish my year and a half there. I learned about poverty, families, hardship, and race. I also learned about strong black women, and how children don’t care much about race until they’re taught to.
Ray Charles’ Passion
After the shelter our family moved into subsidized housing in Greenwich, Connecticut (one of the richest towns in America). The contrast was striking.
I went from living in a multi-racial community to living in a wealth bubble. How could communities in such close proximity be so different? I dreamt of changing the system.
When I got too excited I listened to Ray Charles to relax. I read about his life, and learned he canceled a concert in Georgia in 1961 because it was segregated. This confirmed my belief in sticking to my principles.
Today, I aspire to be a better product manager — a utility man, devoted to doing certain things well. Creative like my mentor Ray.
“What makes my approach special is that I do different things. I do jazz, blues, country music and so forth. I do them all, like a good utility man.” (Ray Charles)
Muhammad Ali’s Determination
At seventeen I attended a party, got sucker punched, and ended up with a split lip (and 13 stitches). I wasn’t a mean person; I didn’t like fighting. I remember thinking, “Why didn’t karma help me out?” I was petrified.
I never wanted to get attacked again, so I joined the local YMCA (I heard strong people lifted weights). I had a problem, though: I didn’t understand how flexing in front of a mirror was going to help me fight bullies.
I decided to take a final tour of the gym and then quit. That’s when I found a heavy bag hidden in a corner, above the basketball courts, on the side of a running track built in the 70’s. It was dusty and dirty. It was perfect.
I knew nothing about boxing, so I walked to the library, and rented two books: the first by an African American author on boxing technique, the second on Muhammad Ali’s life. I went back and imagined Ali was my trainer.
Muhammad Ali’s invincibility during his prime mesmerized me. And years later at the 1996 Olympics — as he inched forward in pain, after years of punishment — I saw the fullness of his determination, as he raised the torch, and smiled without regret.
“I’m gonna fight for the prestige, not for me, but to uplift my little brothers who are sleeping on concrete floors today in America. Black people who are living on welfare, black people who can’t eat, black people who don’t know no knowledge of themselves, black people who don’t have no future.” (Muhammad Ali)
Barack Obama’s Unwavering Hope
I got my first job at twelve landscaping. Since then I’ve delivered TVs, bagged groceries, stocked pet food, been a cashier, managed a sports store, operated heavy equipment, delivered pizzas, valeted cars, and worked in high-end retail (odd jobs not included).
I even fried nuggets at Wendy’s during a summer visit to Florida. My only friend there was a black man in his fifties that cooked the burgers and bacon— he’d ask for nuggets, and slide me bacon in return. I loved that man’s smile.
Barack Obama inspired me to get serious about college, and I worked three part-time jobs, as I pursued my degree. Obama was my hope during school, and his vision of a shared America inspired me to “break the cycle.”
I see the news now explaining why America’s dreams are dying. But, the news comes and goes, while we the people (we the communities) are here to stay. “Yes we can” isn’t going anywhere — it’s a universal law.
“It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.” (Barack Obama)
America is Optimism
In closing, thank you to all the black lives that matter, especially all of those that have positively impacted my life. If our vision is a shared America, then we must actively pursue more colorful communities.
So turn off divisive television, designed to elicit emotional reactions, and stop scrolling through social media feeds that act as echo chambers. Instead, relax more and be more peaceful, flexible and optimistic.
And remember that we don’t just vote at the polls; We vote economically with every digital action (every view, like, etc. counts) — each digital action we take serving to either bring us closer together, or drive us further apart.
