Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, August 1, 1994 TAG: 9408020013
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Joe Kennedy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
They told them about their early lives, their educations, their jobs, and they told them, often emphatically, about what it takes to get someplace in the world.
The men volunteered under the auspices of Mentoring and Nurturing (MAN), organized by Deneen Evans of the Roanoke Adolescent Health Partnership. The kids called it ``the black man's course.''
Sixteen youngsters, many from single-parent homes, showed up for the first session. They were lured in part by the prospect of scholarships to George Lynch's basketball camp, provided by Carilion Health System.
``Half weren't ready for it,'' said Donald Jones, 38, an analyst with the U.S. Postal Service in Roanoke. ``They were unruly, undisciplined. We had to say, `Look, if you can't subject yourself to our authority, then you have to get out.'''
Some didn't come back. Those who remained, all between 11 and 14, gradually got with the program.
I went to a couple of the later sessions. Several things struck me. One was the youngsters - Anthony, Sam, Antonio, Tarie, Chris, Dorian, Kevin, Curt, Thomas, Thomas, James and Carl. They were quick, funny and, when the topic was right, interested. Another was the mentors, who included Jones; Lee Pusha, 25, a counselor at a youth home; and J.R. Hughes, 50, pastor of Bent Mountain Baptist Church.
The men cast themselves as ``realistic role models.'' Their aim was to show the kids that honor and pleasure can be found in the everyday working life, and to tell them how to reach that goal.
They spoke plainly. Once, when the kids started goofing around, Lee Pusha jumped to his feet and told them there are two worlds - the one they share with their friends, or ``homeys,'' shooting hoops, wearing their pants down on their hips and doing what they pleased, and the make-a-living-place where, as grown-ups, they'll spend so much of their time.
``Sometimes, we get confused as to which world is which,'' he said, ``and sometimes we have to change up.''
Once, when a youngster started talking about things he'd seen in violent films, J.R. Hughes leaned over and said, quietly, ``That's punk stuff, son.''
Punk stuff is what the men were trying to overcome.
``I have a very strong belief. . . that if you show people what's on the other side of the tracks, what's available, you open up their horizons,'' said Fred Logan, 51, the fourth mentor, who is the father of Deneen Evans and the supervisor of business mail entry with the postal service in Roanoke. ``And that can give them a hunger or thirst to get there.''
The men talked about Jones' black BMW, and how hard he worked to buy it. They talked about fatherhood, and the responsibilities it entails. They showed how to get through a job interview and took a few of the boys to the post office, so they could see what a workplace is like. They coached them on table manners and took them to dinner with Lynch last week at the Radisson Patrick Henry Hotel.
Lynch, who plays for the Los Angeles Lakers, grew up in the Hurt Park projects. He's a role model because he had the physical and mental ability to graduate from college and reach fame and fortune in a tough business. But he is exceptional, as the mentors repeatedly noted. They emphasized the importance of having an education to fall back on if the glamour career doesn't work out.
Talking to the kids, listening to what they said, observing the things they didn't know, I realized how many advantages - beyond skin color - my friends and I had when we were growing up.
Most of us had two parents at home, relentlessly talking about hard work and success. We heard the same message in school, at church and on TV. Even the old sitcoms we laugh about presented an idealized, stable family life, where dad was always cheerful and always around.
Our neighborhoods weren't so economically isolated. And the disparity between the haves and the have-nots didn't seem as large as in today's voyeuristic culture that thrives on ostentation.
Knowing this made it easy to feel sympathy for the poor kids of Hurt Park. But the men of Mentoring and Nurturing aren't into sympathy. They're into reality.
The bottom line, Logan said, is that such children are ``our resource for the future. Look at all the demographic and census studies: Minorities soon will represent more than 50 percent of our country. These are people who have to become our engineers, our newspapermen, to be in all our industries to make those industries function.''
He's not kidding himself. Mentoring kids once a week for eight weeks won't create many permanent changes. ``The breadth of the problem is so great,'' he said. ``There's just so much that has to be done.''
That's why the men of MAN will keep meeting with the boys once a month and take them on quarterly activities. Deneen Evans plans to bring the program to more children next spring, but first she needs more black men to volunteer as mentors. Her father and his fellows want people of all races to pitch in with money, activities and opportunities for the youngsters to work or learn about ways to succeed. Such help would make it easier to measure their progress.
The term for this is ``giving back.'' Evans is at 857-7284.
by CNB