No time to celebrate

Last Friday, I attended the funeral service of a 13-year-old child who was shot in the head earlier in the week.  I didn't know the young man, but his grandfather is a dear friend. 

It seems the boy, who recently had moved to the Lake Highlands area with his family, went back to his old neighborhood to see some friends.  Somehow he got tangled in a gangland style drug deal that went very wrong.  He lost his life because of a bad decision and some bad timing. 

The funeral slammed me emotionally.  The boy had adjusted well to his new school.  He made friends quickly.  His grades were all good.  He joined the football team, and was a key player.  As I viewed  his small body, I saw he was wearing his football jersey and a pair of  wide receiver or defensive back gloves.  They were pink, just like the gloves one of my grandsons asked me to get him for Christmas. 

The funeral went about like all funerals among poor folks.  The pastors assured us that this was a time for "celebration," faith and thanksgiving. 

Really? 

Seriously?

Now, I think I get the intent.  I served as a pastor for almost 25 years.  At times of grave loss, as this one, we want to lift up and not cast down.  We want to encourage and not add to the burden of loss.  I get that, believe me.

But, maybe that typical approach is no longer adequate or even appropriate with the lives of so many children on the line today. 

Maybe it's time for a pastor to stand up and say, "Enough!  Enough, Lord, enough!"

I mean, I wanted to stand up and shout, "We ain't gonna take this any more!" 

Where is the leader who will dismiss the service after inviting everyone to gather in the fellowship hall for first of weekly community organizing meetings? 

We've got work to do, folks!  Our babies are being snuffed out while we sing  more of the same old songs, and speak of God as if God needs our defense.  Maybe God does.  I certainly have a question or two of my own. 

But, this is not about us or our faith or our traditions.  This is no platform for a "spiritual performance." This is a place of tragedy reserved for pure, hard grief. 

This is about life and death and justice and fairness and, and beautiful children being killed while we take our ease in thoughts of life after this one. 

Sorry, but no one has dismissed us from our primary assignment:  bringing the will of heaven to the earth, and that doesn't include 2-hour services that celebrate the death of a child. 

There is nothing to celebrate in the death of a bright, beautiful, bewildered young boy like we laid to rest last Friday. 

There is, however, much to ponder. 

This kid was set up by a childhood dominated by poverty, confusion and little hope.  Even when he broke out of a part of his trap, he didn't have all that he needed to make it.  He was so young.  But he had found something on the street that he didn't find in his options in the community as it existed for him.  He certainly didn't find what he needed in the church.  The holes destroyed him. 

It's past time for adults to get together and force the change we need.  That means parents, pastors, school leaders, politicians, policy makers, academics, business leaders and community gate keepers.  It is time to make some changes.  Everything comes into sharper focus when you are gazing in the casket of a 13-year-old child.  Everything, including public policy and community reform.

The young man has gone on.  His life is in the hands of God. 

But our work is here and it is now.  Forgive me, but I don't think we have the time right now to think much more about heaven and the "other side."  Not with so much "hell" all around us, including other babies that likely will be sacrificed while we carry on with business as usual.

Celebrate the death of a 13-year-old baby? 

Forgive me, but I just can't get there. 

Battle

This has been a most challenging week for a number of reasons.  I'll not bore with details, except to say at times a person can wonder if there is any hope of real, sustainable, substantive progress. 

Then, things happen. 

Hope pops all around unexpectedly and in amazing, strange ways.

Mid-morning on Wednesday:  a young friend, brought to the US from Mexico as a child by his parents, literally against  his will--he was 12 at the time and his daddy made him come--drops in to see me.  I've known him for well over a decade.  So, this man is a classic for the DREAM Act--a child brought into the country as a minor by undocumented immigrants needing just relief so that he can stay here and put his good education to work. 

As he discusses the business that brought him to see me, he begins to reminisce.  He shares with me just how hard it was to leave Mexico, his grandmother, his cousins, his extended family.  He confesses the deep seated anger that he held inside against his father. In the midst of our talk he tells me that many of us at CitySquare stepped in and became "substitute" family. 

"You guys became my family, Larry," he spoke through free flowing tears.  "You took the place of my uncles, aunts, grandmother and cousins.  You shaped my life and helped me get beyond my anger." 

It was amazing catharsis for him and for me. 

As he spoke, a new understanding of the power and proficiency of community fell on my understanding of the importance of human connection and mutuality across silly, artificially imposed barriers. 

I was so glad that he came by.

Early afternoon Wednesday:  Janet Morrison appears at my door with a young man at her side.  She reminds me that he is Gustavo Vidal, one of "her kids."  Gustavo had come up through Janet's programming, first as a participant student and then as a helper with the other children. 

Several years earlier Gustavo had applied for and received a CitySquare scholarship award to help pay his expenses at the University of Texas in Austin.  He just graduated! 

Gustavo handed me a note that read:

Larry,

I am writing to thank you for all the support that CitySquare has given to me since I was in elementary school.  Many of the education programs were extremely helpful in helping me take the steps I needed to take to attend college.  Words cannot describe how thankful I am for the time and resources that you made available to me.  I graduated this May with a degree in Government and with it I hope to be able to work in public policy.  Hopefully one day I will be able to help people in the same way you helped me.  Thank you.  Yours sincerely, Gustavo Vidal

Gustavo had returned to us to volunteer in our growing public policy work in the community. 

So much then for feeling hopeless!

Heaven standing at the gate of Hell

I saw it again yesterday.

Across the years I've seen it time after time, appearing in different forms and shapes.

Heaven standing at the gate of hell.

The context for my latest experience was routine enough, at least for a sweltering hot July afternoon in Dallas.  I dropped in on one of the delivery sites for our mobile summer lunch delivery program.  The innovative effort teams CitySquare (through our AmeriCorps members and our Nurture, Knowledge and Nutrition initiative) with PepsiCo.  Over the past two summers, thanks to this unique partnership, we've doubled the number of children served these important meals during the months when school is not in session.  Those are the details, the set up, if you will.

As I watched our AmeriCorps leaders playing with a good sized group of precious children, I somehow stepped across a line.  Somewhere between vision and overwhelming realization, I looked into hell itself from the edge of heaven. 

The children were beautiful and playful, in spite of the terribly oppressive heat.  By the time I left the site my clothing was soaked.  They all seemed unaffected!

The meals were served as usual.  Everyone sat down on the ground and ate picnic style under the only shade I could see in the aging, multi-family apartment complex. Living conditions were crowded here.  The people felt packed into a very limited and limiting space.  I met one mother who shared that two families lived in her rather small apartment, extended family members sharing a home.

In spite of all the negatives and the discomfort, the children smiled, expressed gratitude and genuinely enjoyed being together and interacting with those of us who showed up on their turf. 

I stood in heaven with these sweet kids, but I also had a front row seat at the edge of an advancing hell. 

I thought of what would happen with these children over the coming 5 to 10 years.  I wondered about their education, their health, their employment options, their success or failure and what that would mean for the kind of future they would experience.  I wondered how long the sweetness could endure the poverty and the obvious struggle I could see reflected in the eyes of their parents. 

Among those wonderful little ones, children just like my grand kids, I realized as never before what a challenge we face in the cities of this nation.  Dread rolled over me like a summer storm.  So much work to do.  So little national understanding of what's up among the urban poor and their children.  So few leaders from any sector who really "get it."

Yesterday I experienced the horrible "thinness" hanging between heaven and hell. 

In the heat with the children and our partners I had to wonder if we're up to the challenge of the present and coming battle.

Giving youth a chance. . .

Check out the Challenge Program here. 

Brent Brown, our partner from bcWorkshop, dreams of turning our joint venture into just such a program for Dallas inner-city youth.  Our plan would also involve an AmeriCorps component if can land a national program grant. 

Stay tuned!

Reflections on "the game" as Spring Training 2010 begins. . .(Part 2)

[What follows is a continuation of the post from yesterday.]

The following week when I arrived at John's house to pick him up for an early morning game, he came to the door to inform me he didn't want to play.  When I asked why, he told me that a cousin was in town and he didn't want to leave  him at the house to go to the game.  I encouraged him to invite the cousin to come along and help us out in the dugout.  On the way to the park John leaned over and thanked me for allowing his guest to join us for the game. 

"Coach, I was afraid to leave him at the house.  I was afraid if the police came they would arrest him for 'selling' because he is fifteen," John explained.  Talk about a heightened sense of personal responsibility:  my little twelve-year-old buddy feeling the pressing need to care for his 15-year-old cousin.  This is simply John's reality. 

John lives at a frightening intersection in our community.  From where he stays, not only can John see the most important issues facing our city; he lives with a number of them.  Just click down John's list with me for a reality check.

[Return tomorrow for John's "reality list."]

Reflections on "the game" as Spring Training 2010 begins. . .(Part 1)

What follows, in four parts, is an essay I wrote several years ago while coaching in the Texas Rangers' Rookie League, a co-ed baseball program for 11 and 12-year-old boys and girls.  As Major League Baseball gears up for the 2010 season, I'm thinking of the game's value.
_________________________

I am a baseball coach.  Well, not really.  My career, my job is in a totally unrelated field.  But few things in my life are more important than my work as a coach in the Texas Rangers Rookie League. 

For two summers now I have coached eleven and twelve-year-old boys and girls who have never played organized baseball prior to being on my team.  The experience has been fun, educational, exciting, hilarious and sobering all at once.  All of my players live in a fairly tough Dallas inner-city neighborhood.  The Texas Rangers deserve a community commendation for sponsoring the summer league that actually serves as a baseball day camp of sorts for hundreds of children from all across the Metroplex. 

For several of my players the baseball league offers a welcome escape from terrible living conditions. 

Let me introduce you to "John." 

He lives with his grandmother and a number of other adults--some related, some not--in a well known, neighborhood crack house near his school.  John is a great young man.  He spends his days by his own choice going from place to place in the neighborhood looking for trustworthy people and positive things  to do.  The Friendship Center at Fair Park Bible Fellowship, the Jubilee Center sponsored by St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church and the Rangers Rookie League baseball are all regular stops on his daily walk around the neighborhood this summer. 

He seemed thrilled when he learned that he had been selected by his principal to play on our team.  He attended every practice, worked hard, learned new skills and turned out to be our most productive hitter.  John is a winsome kid with a big smile and a temper that can explode in a fury, invariably followed by quick apologies. 

After one pre-season practice he asked me for a ride home.  When we arrived at his house, I got out with him to unload some of his belongings from my truck.  As we walked to the back of my car, a small pick-up truck pulled alongside us and a young man came out of John's house and stepped up to the truck's window.  After a brief exchange of words, money and "merchandize," the truck's driver turned his vehicle around and left, all the while keeping his eyes on John and me. 

"Coach, this goes on all the time here," he tried to explain what we had just witnessed.  I tried to reassure him and told him to go inside and be careful, a truly impossible directive given  his environment.  Later that same day I talked to John about our experience. 

"We walked into the middle of a drug deal, didn't we?"  I asked to confirm what I thought I had seen.

"Yes sir.  My grandmother can't control the house anymore.  People  come and go and sue and sell drugs," replied. 

During the pre-game warm-up before our third game of the season, John took a ball right in the mouth.  The blow split his lip open.  A little ice and some special attention patched him up so that he could play in both games of our doubleheader that day.  On the van ride home I told John that he would need to see a doctor and might require a stitch or two in his lip. 

After a thoughtful pause, John said, "Coach, I'll go to the doctor, but I won't."

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"I'm willing to go, but no one will take me.  No one has a car and they just lay around not doing anything."

I assured him that I would see that he got to a doctor.  When we arrived at his house, I managed to get permission from an aunt to arrange for treatment.  Dr. Jim Walton, our long time medical partner and leader of community health equity for the Baylor Health Care System, met us at our clinic.  John took his three stitches better than any 40-year-old man.  Four or five days later, between game days, Dr. Walton went back to  John' house to remove the stitches. 

We both observed a number of adults coming and going in all directions.  Two little girls, possibly aged five and three, played with a cat on the front porch.  They stopped their play long enough to grin and wave at us.  We felt as if we were standing in the middle of a busy, though dilapidated, dingy, and dark marketplace.  The commodity being traded was crack cocaine.  The surroundings spoke of abject poverty. 

[More tomorrow. . .]

Prison and fathers

Working in inner city Dallas has made me very aware of the impact of prisons on neighborhoods and families. We spend far too much on locking people up, when we should be directing our resources at preparing people for life.

My good friend, Rev. George King sent me this clip created out of the experience of one young man.

CDM lands award for "digital connections" training for youth

Janet Morrison, Director of Education Outreach at Central Dallas Ministries, decided to write a grant to establish a "digital connectors" group in the Roseland Homes community to benefit teens involved in our educational efforts. 

Well, guess what?  Her grant was judged a winner and CDM received funding to provide this amazing training to our teens!

Wireless carrier companies donated $1 million to train 360 urban youth in the latest wireless and digital technologies. 

Learn more about the concept here.  Once at the site, scroll down the column on the left to "One Economy Wireless" to view the interview about the program and the awards.

Way to go, Janet!

Marco

CDM students make "O"

Several students from our After School Academy have been involved in a chemistry camp created by one of our good friends, Jennifer Stimpson, a chemistry teacher here in Dallas.

You can read about her program, "Get a KIC Out of Science," with KIC meaning "Knowledge in Chemistry," in the November issue of O, the Oprah magazine or online here.

Pay special attention to the photo at the top of the online article (and above left here). CDM's Janet Morrison captured the image, even though she doesn't get credit here! The young lady to the far left in the photo is Phantasia Preston, daughter of our own Sylvia Baylor!

Watching our future scientists learning their craft is exciting to say the least!

Great work all around!

.

Courage, Man!

Young man, just a lad,
growin' up in a swamp of pain--
poverty so hard, so raw,
stumblin' just part of every day
you live.

Young boy, puttin' on
that smile--unforgettable glow
makin' me wonder what you got
to keep your feet in all this and not quite
fall today.

Just a kid, you keep walkin'
against all the stuff, all the
mess of this 'hood of yours,
and mine, no matter what
comes along.

Young man, true man,
such courage you put up
against it all, don't matter
what they throw at you,
you stay alive!

Young friend, so young,
you keep walkin' toward me,
includin' me in the game,
smiling all the while, teaching me
all about life.

Young fellow, bright-eyed,
eager to move on, grab it all
no matter what comes down,
you live strong and all around you
gets better. . .against such
unforgiving odds.

.

Oh, yeah, you gotta check this out!

Dallas City Council Member Dwaine Caraway advocates for and acts in the best interests of the young people of his district. Watching this man work, on the ground in the community, is inspiring.

Recently, his community liaison, Michael Davis contacted us to invite Dr. Janet Morrison to organize a group of our people from Central Dallas Ministries to join several other bus loads of youth for a tour of the Houston/Galveston area, complete with a stop at NASA. Of course, always looking to provide our youth high-energy learning experiences, Janet took Michael up on his offer.

I promise you, it will be worth your time to read Janet's account of the trip and to watch the YouTube report embedded in her post at:

http://www.everydaycitizen.com/2008/06/whirlwind_trip.html.

Great stuff, don't you think?

[Posted in fond memory of Frank Edward ("Eddie" aka "Pods") Wilson on the anniversary of his birth. Rest in peace, Pods. We had great times, didn't we?]
.

Wilderness Trek and urban youth

Almost every summer, thanks to the largess of the Brentwood Foundation and the hard work of Dr. Janet Morrison, CDM organizes a week-long trip to Colorado and to Wilderness Trek.

Edd Eason serves as the Executive Director of Wilderness Trek Christian Camping. The mission of Edd and of Trek is to put teenagers into the beauty and the stress of climbing and taking the peaks of 14,000 foot plus mountains of the Colorado Rockies. The experience tests the stamina, faith and community trust of everyone involved. Without exception these experiences have been incredibly positive for the inner city youth we've sponsored across the years.

A CDM group just returned from another trekking good time! Take a moment to watch and listen. You'll understand what I mean.

Both links will take you to the creative work of the youth who enjoyed the trek!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M76PEP--Y6w

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fFrWM0-7nw&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fjanetmorrison%2Eblogspot%2Ecom%2F

Kartieaa's Story (and video)

Below is a letter from my friend, Kariteaa, a young man who has been involved with our Transition Resource Action Center (TRAC), a one-stop shop for youth who "age out" of foster care at age 18.

I encourage you to read his letter, and then to hear his story in the attached video.

To watch the video in full screen, click here.

Dear Friend,

My name is Kartieaa, and I entered the foster care system at age 12 after my adoptive parents died in a car accident.

I was moved through 11 homes and wound up in jail before “aging out” of the foster care system at 18. I had no one to turn to and no place to live – until I got connected with Central Dallas Ministries’ Transition Resource Action Center (TRAC).

Now I have an apartment, a job and am taking classes at El Centro College.

Without your support of TRAC, I would probably be on the streets or back in jail.

Thank you for re-writing my future.

Sincerely,

To see more videos about your neighbors, click here.

Want some "feel good" inspiration?

If you do, then you should visit the blog produced by the students involved in Central Dallas Ministries' After School Academy.

These children are beyond amazing!

Never mind that they live in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Dallas, from a material standpoint. Certainly nothing "poor" about these children when it comes to who they are and what they are doing!

From photography (this photo is an example of their work!), to chess, to golf, to ballet, to homework, and more, these students are doing great work and expanding the capacity of their learning beyond belief!

Do me a favor. Check out their own weblog: http://www.ourasafamily.blogspot.com/.

Inner city youth now in college. . .

Janet Morrison, Ed. D., serves as our Director of Children's Education here at Central Dallas Ministries.

For over a decade now Janet has been working with children to provide them high-quality, experiential educational opportunities. Combining exposure to all sorts of learning situations with a determined leadership and personal development strategy, Janet's program has produced results.

In addition to the program side of her work, Janet has lived in one of our target neighborhoods since she arrived in Dallas in 1995. Her natural influence in the neighborhood has been fun to watch.

And then there is the Central Dallas Church where Janet has been working with and helping shape children and teens over the same period.

Janet's reach and that of CDM has been constant. Along with many disappointments, lots of really wonderful and amazing things have resulted in the lives of children and youth.

Last week I asked Janet how many of the children we have touched and worked with across the years are now in college. She sent me a list of 23 students!

That may not sound like a very large number, but take it from me, it is an amazing number when you take into consideration the household incomes, the neighborhoods and other facts of daily life for these great students and their families.

I feel the need to list their names and where they are studying today--it's about honoring them and Janet for the hard work and for the persistent team effort.

So, here's our current list:

Tiffany Johnson, Junior, Baylor
Whitney Haywood, Fresh, El Centro
Albert Ross, Fresh, El Centro
Adrian Williams, Fresh, El Centro
Johnas McKinny, Fresh, El Centro
Ronyell Byers, Fresh, El Centro
Britney Brown, Fresh, trade school @ El Centro
Nicholas Donald, Fresh, Richland
Erika Lopez, Soph, Eastfield
Anabeli Ibarra, Soph, Eastfield
Jessica Orogbu, Soph, TAMU-Commerce
Bridgette Miles, Soph, TAMU-Commerce
Terrance Johnson, Soph, TAMU-Commerce
Keith Davis, Soph, TAMU-Commerce
Lamanda Brookins, Soph, TAMU-Commerce
Kieva Moore, Senior, Stephen F. Austin
Oscar Aparicio, Fresh, UT-Austin
Kim Aparicio, Graduate entering med school
Britney Hay, soph, Navarro
Ernest Wheeler, Soph, Navarro
Fredrick Williams, Soph, Lamar University
Veronica White, Soph, Tougaloo University
Danielle Owens, Fresh, Grand Canyon University, Phoenix, Arizona

I am so proud of these young people! I am so grateful we've enjoyed the opportunity to work with them. They have given back so much to CDM, to their families and to our larger community. And, of course in that regard, the best is yet to come!

I am also grateful for Janet Morrison. What a difference she has made and is making!

Bravo, Dr. J!