People Fall, the Goal Stands

Wahoowa!!!  Wahoowa!!!  No, I'm not at all a University of Virginia graduate, but I do support the success of all collegiate sports programs in this commonwealth.  And yesterday, Thomas Jefferson's spot claimed a 5th men's lacrosse national championship by defeating the University of Maryland in Baltimore's M&T Stadium.  The storied UVA program is back on top after it began the preseason ranked #1, tumbling in the rankings, and playing its best at the end of the season to win the Atlantic Coast Conference Championship and then go on to be the best in the country.  Great job Cavaliers; and I'm sure this time the taste of victory is not as sweet as it was the other four titles.

Air Boxing

Here is an African American cliche` - the victory is finally won!  Two of the many black soapbox organizations in the country have 'won a victory' right here in Richmond.  They were able to tear away property from VCU-via-the-city and begin demolition on it.  This was done because the Confederate capital allowed the paving of this plot of land (a burial ground for slave and freed blacks between 1750 and 1810) so it could be used as a parking lot.  An obvious demoralizing method to continue the mental slavery of the African in America, but what do you expect an evil people to do to its enemies?  Of course there was a ceremony which marked the achievement of this, and with that a symbolic land-braking where several city big heads, including the mayor, participated.  A young brother like me though is still trying to figure out where the victory is in this.

Holy House to a Den of Robbers

I had a hand in starting a verses (better term than spoken word) ministry at a church I attended for nearly 10 years.  What this entailed was me spitin' two pieces to the congregation each fourth Sunday; as well as taking some time to help develop the skills of other young writers at the church.  Because of I perceived that there was unhealthy attention geared towards making money at that church, I wrote a piece called Time, Talent, and Dollars.  This work investigated some misconceptions about tithing as well as how vile I felt it was that ministers and/or ministries were manipulating people to give.  I remember after that worship service how an elder approached me and said something like "that was awesome!  You know Pastor ain't gonna let you do poems no more (while laughing)."  Of course, that didn't happen, but neither did the refocus of teaching people the appropriateness of giving.

Next Time You See Me I'll Be Ten Feet Tall...

One month from now your boy will leave his mother and father to be united with my wife, and become one flesh.  A truly amazing occurrence for those who know me, but an even more amazing thing for me and my knowledge of myself.  I now attempt to document my feelings concerning this, but these words represent around 7 % of what actually is occurring with my emotions.

It Aint Over 'Till You Finished

I met my business partner and friend arguing over the success of the Chicago White Sox and the New York Yankees while his sister (my girlfriend at the time) was recovering from heart surgery.  Right there in that hospital room, in front of their mother, aunts, and nurses, we debated (which is hardly a debate) on who was the better team while his sister attempted to motion to us to shut it up.  Even though his sister and I broke up a while later, her brother and I remained friends and we took on the challenge of encouraging children to be exceptional adults to lead an ever-changing Richmond.  I recall some of the times where we would hang out; watching sports with other friends of ours, playing spades, just being guys.  And during these times we would sometimes have conversations about entrepreneurial aspirations the had and that I figured made sense and would benefit the entire city, if not the world.  Yeah, we were the ones at those [insert pyramid scheme here] seminars thinking we could make some real money in weeks.  Of course that, and a bunch of other things we tried together and separately didn't work.  The reality was that there was me with a college education and him without one; and we were both reaching.

The State of the Community Mental Health Industry, Pt. 3-The Power

Every now and then during therapeutic interventions a parent will get upset about how their child is or is not being treated by the child's counselor.  Regardless of the reason of the grievance or who is at fault, a great number of parents will run this statement out there when they aren't satisfied with the action of the servicing agency: "I'mma call Medicaid!"  Now whether or not they will actually do that is a crap shoot.  But that statement has allegedly worked to the appeasement of the parent; concerned about what a counselor is telling their kid, but not concerned enough to read their report card.  It is a fact however that Medicaid has shut down many agencies off of these calls.  Not necessarily because the parents' accusation has been accurate, but because the Medicaid rep found other infractions of non-compliance when they got to the agencies' office.  Sometimes they bring their road dawg (the Dept. of Behavioral Health and Developmental Services) with them.  DBHDS may not, but when Medicaid comes they come for blood each time.  So we as providers are all 'scared' of those two.

The State of the Community Mental Health Industry, Pt. 2-The Players

Remember in the movie Casino, when Nicky Santora was sexing Ace Rothstein's wife Ginger?  Remember that scene where Ginger got mad at Ace and went up to Nicky's restaurant to try to put a hit out on her husband and Nicky violently responded?  After he threw her down the stairs and she sped off he told his goon, "I really [explicative] up this time."  Then a little later in the movie, right before Nicky died he had a powerful statement.  "We had heaven on earth and we managed to [explicative] it all up."  Those two scenes describe the players of the community mental health industry.  When I say players, I'm speaking of the service providers (agencies, companies).  And we did manage to screw everything up.

The State of the Community Mental Health Industry, Pt. 1-The Partnership

For the next few days I'm going to shed some light on my experiences during my four year tenure in the community mental health industry in the Commonwealth of Virginia.  For those who don't know what community mental health industry entails, it is a myriad of services that address the mental health and behavioral issues and needs for any given community, region, etc.  My expertise in this field comes from providing intensive in-home (IIH) and therapeutic day treatment (TDT) to children; and mental health support (MHS) for adults.  With the exception of TDT, IIH and MHS are services where a counselor provides the interventions in the home of the service recipient.  TDT is done in a school or an after school program.  The components I will look at are the partnerships, the players (agencies, organizations, etc.), the people (kids, adults, families), and the power (Medicaid, Dept. Behavioral Health).  The names of everyone will be hidden to protect the successful and/or the sorry.  Let's begin...

Child Bosses

After a pretty active day at school, Dequante hops off the bus while horse playing with one of his friends.  He punches the friend in the arm and jets away before his bus mate can strike him back.  The bus stop is not far away from his mother's apartment home, and he doesn't do the best job at slowing down so he crashes into the screen door.  His mother, a little buzzed from her third beer of the afternoon, jumps while on the couch in surprise.  Dequante can hear his mother yelling obscenities as she approaches the door.  The curse words continue as she opens the door, and Dequante walks into a living room filled with smoke.  As the child maneuvers through the weed clouds to the kitchen, he opens a refrigerator containing a few beers, bologna, cheese, and a few leftover food items.  Throughout the evening, 1st grade Dequante enjoys great tasks as fixing his own meals, picking out his own clothes, taking care of his own hygiene needs (which he usually ignores), and enduring his mothers' company; which always includes drinking, cigarettes and weed smoke, and a colorful use of the English language.  Unfortunately, what Dequante's school nights don't include is homework or adult supervision.

Save the Tigers

Reduce cost, retain assets, reorganize fund allocation, cut the fat.  The unfortunate fate of St. Paul's College in Lawrenceville, Virginia is described in these four philosophies as the entire athletics program will cease to exist as of July 1.  SBC has been here before and usually a revisit may ease anxious thoughts about the future.  I'm not so sure that's the case this time, as there is a huge notion that this was done to keep the college's doors open.  In 1987 the football program was shut down for 15 years after proudly re-competing.  And for a school that never was the talk of winning a championship in any sport they fielded (at least for most of my life) they did pretty well after their reinstatement to the CIAA.  The winning didn't last long, but at least football was back.  And now it's gone again, along with all the other men's and women's sports programs.

As a bystander to this situation I would be interested to know how the alumni feel about this.  I assume one of the reason's alumni at the larger white universities give money to sports programs (and players) so these things don't happen.  Of course, paying players is against NCAA rules so that option isn't included in this.  But compliant and consistent financial support is.  I believe that a solid athletic program directly benefits a college in the areas of enrollment and revenue.  So it makes sense to ensure these programs remained intact; but when they don't, how?  Even before this tragic issue who supported the boosters so coaches could have more resources to recruit with?  Is St. Paul's College saying that there aren't enough good Christian athletes that want to come to a small Christian school?  Isn't there a powerful ministry opportunity provided through collegiate atheletics; where God-fearing coaches mentor to college students on a daily basis-helping them become strong through discipline, service, and faith?

All the questions I have I'm sure have been asked before this decision and the deadline is set.  But, as it was in 2002, games can once again be played in Lawrenceville.  It's just sad to see this happen but trust me, I fully understand.  Because whether it's school, work, church, or a combination of all three - it's always about the dollars.

SBC Alumni Save the Tigers

Peace

Name Nonsense

This is dedicated to the Marquisha's, the Tyshella's, the N'daequan's, the LaMaquis's and the Ronshaneke's (pronounced Ra-sha-neek).  I know America has put you in the dregs of society because your mothers decided to get 'creative' during the nine months they carried you.  And because of their artistic expression by means of your first (and sometimes middle) name you are discriminated by your teachers before they even meet you, your job applications and resumes are laughed at and then thrown away, and you are labeled 'ghetto'.  What's even more disheartening is that most of these actions and reactions are coming from your own African American brothers and sisters; mothers and fathers.  So because of the continued drama, this one is for you.

You are truly disadvantaged because you are the shame of a [every so often] proud culture.  I mean, when they call TaShawn during roll call in class the general theme is his mom shouldn't have done that to that boy, she set him up to fail!  And in the 21st century it's so critical to make sure a black child has a respectable and understandable name - for example, who would ever employ or give a college scholarship to a kid named Barak?  Wait a minute, a guy named Barak got elected president of the U.S.A.  On second thought he was Nigerian so he gets a pass.  Or was it Hawaiian Indian?  Either way, who would do such a thing?  How can you make it with that type of name? 

Sure an Asian named Xingu (try to pronounce it) can come to America and do alright.  I don't think people will disrespect his or her name because it may have originated from the riches of Japanese culture.  And unfortunately for you, you have no culture outside of what America chooses to give you.  Your original culture was stolen from you during the African Holocaust so it's probably better if you stick with a Bill or Amy if you chose to have children.  After all, it worked for Kunta Kenta and all he lost was a foot.  This way, you won't have to work as hard to get a job or get in college because your name is less black and ghetto.  Wait another minute, the term ghetto was created to refer to the neighborhoods where Jews were forced to live in before the Jewish Holocaust.  So shouldn't a ghetto name be David or Joshua or Deborah or Sarah?  Well, that's different, too.

See, what you don't understand is it's acceptable to be as Chinese, Japanese, Mexican, German, or Spanish as you can be.  But try not to be too black because it's just too threatening for America.  Sure Germany lead the cause for world domination twice.  And sure the Chinese still practice the ever anti-American communism.  Never mind that, just remember that as long as you have been allowed to have an opinion in this country your opinion only matters to you.  There is no opportunity for you to create your own businesses and schools so you might as well assimilate with America's ways.  And if black people won't deal with you because your name is Darquella then your back is really against the wall.  Obviously they are smarter, better looking, and more technically astute (but not more athletic) than you because their name is William; and their parents were thinking ahead - you know, playing the game.

But check this out.  Next time a Daniel, wait one more minute, that's also Jewish so let's say Thomas says 'what type of name is Natasha'?  Wait again, that's Russian so let's say Quanisha.  Ok, so next time a Thomas says 'what type of name is Quanisha'?  You can ask him to please embrace all things about African American society that makes us unique and don't discriminate because of a name.  Or maybe remind him that they love to dance to hip hop or relax to jazz, to forms of music that are based from impoverished, urban African American culture.  Or remind him that a family that loves and nurtures their child can be as successful as anyone, no matter how different or ethnic their name is.  He may fire back at you that 'ghetto' names make things harder for black people.  And he may be right because certainly intra-racial issues don't cause any problems.  Besides, who would ever want the President of the United States to work hard?

Peace.

Runnin' (Can't Keep Runnin' Away) - The Pharcyde/Labcabincalifornia 1995

We Christians sure love us some David.  For a lot of us, particularly Christian men, David of Bethlehem is who we would honestly choose to be like.  Obviously, his story of moving from being a shepard on his fathers' farm to winning a huge battle for his country to being the king's attendant, enemy, then successor is exhilarating.  And if all of that wasn't enough, being labeled by God [through the prophecy of Samuel] as "a man after His own heart (1 Samuel 13:13-14)" certainly seals the deal.  What is true is that King David's spiritual sincerity is admirable.  His military and political accomplishments are commendable.  And his offenses and violations of the law are, well, relieving for many.  I actually know of a minister who choses to assimilate his character with that of King David; seemingly in an attempt to establish a parallel of David's crime of adultery and murder with Bathsheba and his [the minister] crimes of embezzlement and other federal and moral offenses.  I assume the thought is that if David can be great while being evil every now and then, then so can the next man.  But as with many great men and women of the Bible who we uplift in our worship services, Bible studies, and prayer meetings (if those still exist); we love their stories, teach others to be like them, compare our good deeds to theirs and excuse our bad deeds with theirs.  But real talk, we really don't want to be like them.

Some time ago while visiting my maternal grandparents I found myself in one of my grandmothers' anti-rap conversations.  She questioned why I still listened to hip-hop music since I had reached a 'respectable' level of Christianity.  After her question, the conversation went something like this:

"Grammie, what do you think rappers talk about?"
"Nothing but drugs, sex, and violence."
"Ok, and do you think those things happen here? In the West End (Richmond, not Henrico)?" 
"Of course they do."
"And so, when these young people told you, or other Christians what was going on in their environment, what actions did you take to change these issues?"
long pause
"I didn't do nothing.  I changed the station!"
"Ok, so when Jesus charged Christians to spread news about Him, to heal the sick and the poor in His Name, do you think He was talking about these young people who are telling us [Christians] about their or someone they may know situations in their environment first hand through their music?"
"Well, I didn't think about it like that."

And most of us don't.  Because it's very easy to point at the giant and talk about him amongst ourselves; wondering who's going to do something.  But to be a David and actually go and confront the giant is a little extreme, even for the super saved and sanctified.  Crack cocaine appeared in the U.S. in the early 1980s and hip-hop began bringing light to its potential for devastation shortly after.  In Richmond this epidemic literally reduced lives, families, and historical African American communities to rubble.  But instead of Christians taking action on the crack epidemic, most took action on the rappers.  While the deacon ran to turn the radio off and stomp on CDs, his children were getting high.  While the trustee ran to listen to the preacher berate rappers during one of his sermons, teenage drug cartels were extorting corner stores to improve their distribution.  Now we are in a generation where what the white media termed (and the black media went along with) 'gangsta rap' is glorified; quite possibly because no one addressed the issues of what the real gansta rappers were talking about.  Perhaps if these issues were addressed by the people assigned to be "the light of the world (Matthew 5:14)", these issues may barely exist.  But what happened was that most Christians kept runnin' from rap music or to the issues documented in it.  And oh yeah, people are still dying behind drugs.

Although it might not be a bad idea, I'm not saying listen to rap so you can learn about our people's taboo problems and discuss action plans for correction.  But I am asking Christians to stop running from the problems.  I'm also saying to the preacher and the man who thinks you are, chances are you're not David, you're the army.  You are that same army that was scared of the giant and decided to mumble about him amongst their morning and evening meetings; and then run away.  On your way to work every day you see oppression like the army did, but you run away from it and wait until Sunday morning or Wednesday evening to talk about it instead of confronting the problem.  This running could be because you have forgotten that you serve a God who has done and can do anything.  Or maybe you forgot that Jesus commanded you to speak life into threats of death around you and that He gave you the means and power to do so (John 14:12).  Or maybe you have bought into the more contemporary Christian theme of individualism (i.e. God favors ME).  If that's the case than your loss of memory is killing your community.  However, if you are in the Richmond area and you want to stop your running and murder, I am joined with some brothers who discuss how we can change our lives and the lives around us as instructed by the Word; and then we put those discussions to action.  Get at me and I'll give you details of our meetings.  Because the fact remains like the Pharcyde says, can't keep runnin' awaaaaay-aaaay-aaay.

Peace.

For those who don't know, the title of this post is the title of a record from Los Angeles-based hip-hop group The Pharcyde.  Runnin' appeared on the groups' 1995 album, Labcabincalifornia.

Ode To Motherhood

I believe that in proper form (even though I'm a day late) I give a shout to one of the greatest mothers in history, the late Ellen P. Jones, my paternal grandmother.  In addition to that I would like to admonish and bring attention to a type of motherhood that doesn't get mentioned much but is key in the establishment of African American culture.

Grandma was born a couple generations away from slavery in Drewyville, VA (Southhampton County) in October of 1921.  As a matter of fact, she maintained that our family is related to Virginia abolitionist Nat Turner, which is important because the determination and spiritual obedience that Turner displayed as a slave and freedom fighter was evident in Grandma's life.  I won't give you guys a history lesson on her, but shortly after leaving the country and moving to Richmond she married my grandfather, the late Paul Jones.  Their first home was in Church Hill and then they later moved to Highland Park when my dad was in his junior year at Armstrong High School.  During this time, Highland Park was a more affluent neighborhood than it is now after the cocaine epidemic of the mid-1980s ripped it apart.  So this move was a considerable upgrade with regards to overall lifestyle.  My dad has mentioned that he didn't like the move very much because it geographically separated him from most of his friends, but later on we all would see the move was advantageous for several members of our family.

My paternal grandfather died not too long after my parents married, and during the long time my grandma was a widow, miraculous things would happen to and in that home.  That house served as what I would call the 'healing house' for many members of our family and the community, including me.  More specifically, I can remember when I was around 9 or 10 that a student at Union Theological Seminary, aspiring to become a licensed minister, had visited Sharon Baptist Church where Grandma was a member.  Because of his lack of money, housing, and his need to pursue his goal my grandmother allowed him to stay at her home rent free.  This gentleman was a part of our lives for about 2 - 3 years as he worked and studied, which was something I thought to be quite strange.  But he wasn't the only one.  Several cousins and aunts stayed with "Aunt Ellen" when their situations became a little difficult to bear.  In the true spirit of Matthew 25:35, Grandma gave us shelter, food, and Christian nourishment for us to strengthen our faith and learn to walk in it.  She took us in with our many issues and never condemned us for what we were going through; she just helped.  As for me, my Grandma's health began to deteriorate right around the time when I was still searching to be someone.  I had become accustomed to a life of substance abuse and hate; a life I was not raised in and it was beginning to swallow me.  Because I was respectable enough to not bring any of the foolishness I was involved in to my parents house, and because of the stench of my foulness was beginning to reach my mother's senses, I started planning to move.  My father suggested that I live with Grandma to serve two purposes: to get my self on my [financial] feet and to care for my grandmother in her failing health.  Initially, I rejected this idea because I really still wanted to do what I wanted to do and I knew this was not acceptable in her house.  But eventually I consented.  As the Lord would have it, being in the presence of my grandmother daily influenced me to make significant changes that led to me being gainfully employed and working on several business ventures.  After 3 years of staying with Grandma I was blessed with the opportunity to purchase my first home.  With her encouragement, I walked into that opportunity and bought a house only 6 blocks away from her.  As time went on her health got to the point where she could not live alone.  She spent her last days at my parents house in my old room, sleeping in my old bed.  I was the last individual that my grandmother took in and 'healed'.

Even today, the hard work that my grandparents put to keep that house is still reaping benefits for my family; as my cousin is now living there, rent free (just paying utilities).  As keeping with what the house symbolizes my cousin receives the same blessings that many of her predecessors did.  This house is now somewhat of a landmark in HP, not because it is extravagant or large, because it isn't.  As a matter of fact, it is one of the smaller homes in Highland Park.  But the love that is inside that house that was given through my grandmother cannot be contained, but it has saturated men and women who are family and who are not.  Sometime after Grandma's funeral in 2009, I rejoiced in my spirit because I could see how the Lord had planned something in my grandmother's life to serve as a land of promise for years and years, and I was planned to receive this as well!  This points to what needs to be brought to light.  I am well aware of the mothers that come from sharecropping as Grandma did; who with faith and hard work have made homes for their families that have existed years after they have passed away.  These homes did not see the fate of burnings, or break-ins, or foreclosure-because the Grace of the Lord was with them and everything they touched.  These women have survived through real (physical) discrimination and violent racism.  These women lived under the threat of terrorism that was perpetuated by the Virginia and U.S. governments.  These women supported families with the resources they had, even if the people weren't blood.  And these are the women that make black America.

We like to think that because we aren't getting water hoses turned on us that these threats don't exist anymore.  The fact however is that many still do, while others have simply changed their methods of existence.  And because of this I have a charge to you, dear reader.  I challenge you today to uplift that young woman from Hillside, or Gilpin, or Essex Village, or any hood in the States who is working to buy that house so her family can live without the looming presence of pain.  I encourage you to reach out to that college student who comes from a hellish environment and inquire on her needs to reach her goals, and help her.  I ask that you pull that high school girl aside and look her in her eye and tell her she is precious in the eyes of the All Powerful God AND to our society.  Do this with all of your resources, even if all you have to give is just a kind word.  Keep in mind that the possibility that these women may become (or already are) mothers is high.  And we know that without the strong and faithful mother, the whole village suffers.  We can all use a little bit less suffering!

I write this in thought of my late paternal grandmother; as well as the continued blessed and fruitful lives of my maternal grandmother, my mother, my aunts, and all the mothers worldwide who continue to demonstrate true love.

Peace

Police 'Brutality' Gone Right?

After my devotions and studies, my next morning ritual is Sports Center.  This is occasionally interrupted by my fiance's ever growing interest of the Today Show; and today was one of those days.  Usually, I'll pay attention to the first 20 minutes of it (which includes the real news) and then I'll keep it moving.  But this morning was one of those rare mornings where there was news after the first 20.

I caught this story of a 15 year old girl in Phoenix that is the center of a police brutality issue.  Apparently this young lady, who is a student at a charter school for children with behavioral and disciplinary issues, came to school drunk.  She was subsequently kicked out for the day and her mother had to come escort her home.  The report then showed an amateur video of the mother and daughter fighting in the middle of the street outside of the school.  Actually, they weren't fighting because the daughter was taking it to her mom.  The reporter said that before the issue got physical the mother called the police, but the cops didn't come fast enough for her to not catch a thrashing from her own daughter.  Then it gets more interesting.  The daughter, after swinging on her mom MMA style, ignored the police officer's orders to submit under arrest and walked away from the entire scene.  The video showed what appeared to be the cop calling her back while she was about 20 yards away.  Then the cop charged the girl and hit her with a forearm like he was blocking down field for a running back.  The girl flew into the wall and fell on the ground with an visable laceration on her head.  The cop cuffed the teenager and walked her to his car.  Now there are several people in Phoenix (and I'm sure nationwide) that are accusing the cop of brutality and want him to see some justice.

The first thing that came in my head is that the Today show is great for highlighting things that may occur in the white community 'these days' that have been happening in the black community for, well, since we got here.  I was a victim of police brutality in 1999 from the Petersburg police.  I remember sitting in a well-known African American Richmond lawyers' office with a broken hand to hear this lawyer (featured on many commercials for his business and political aspirations) tell me "we don't go after the police.  It's just something we don't do.  I'm sorry for your situation because it does sound like you have something."  We, being of legal age, followed the rules the entire time we were there as well as paid that club a significant amount of cash that night.  I hate to say it but we were targeted for being, let's say confident.  But we didn't violate ANY club or city policy, except the confident thing.  But obviously, 2 black men and a black female don't make as good as a case as a disrespectful white teenage female.  And I assume the Today show feels the same about news stories.

But the more important issue in my mind is this.  At what point does ANYONE intervene physically in this type of situation?  Those of you who were born up until 1982 (or who were raised by ol' skool parents) would see this video and say something like that's 'cause she didn't beat her daughters butt when she was a kid.  I'm positive if my mother had to pick me up from school because I was drunk she would've worn me out in the office!  But in the USA, the parent-child relationship is being shelved for a more friendship type of understanding. 

This police officer saw this 15 year old being extremely disrespectful and treated her exactly how she was acting.  And I am the last person to advocate for any type of police action, but he saw something the country needs to see.  Parents have moved from not physically disciplining their children to not disciplining them at all.  Cliche': they have allowed [insert form of media here] to raise children and now no one tells a kid no, much less gives a firm smack.  And what's totally being ignored here is the parent.  How did her daughter get drunk?  Why is she in a 'problem child' school in the first place?  What has she done to ensure things like this, and other actions of disrespect don't happen?  If this is going on in the street, can we assume it's like this at her house?  Where are the laws against irresponsible parents?  And I'm not talking about dead beat dads, but I'm speaking about lazy, uninvolved, immature mothers?  How is the cop coming under heat for what the mother should've done years ago in her own house?

Some of you know I am in favor of fining parents who's children are truant and consistently display non-compliant behavior.  These fines are geared towards forcing parents to...be parents.  And after watching this video I said to myself, lock the kid up, fine the mother a stack ($1,000), and give the cop a paid day off.  Many mothers, yes I said it-mothers, are looking for everyone around them (except the father in some cases) to rear their children.  What this has led to is waiting lists for kids to attend alternative schools where behavior modifications are first and education is last, filled juvenile detention centers, mental health agencies blurring boundaries, I could go on.  And I'm not saying beat your kid, although some of you might need to, but I am saying raise your child.  Turn off BET when your child comes home.  Do homework with him/her. If you can't understand the work, take your Rocawear money and give that to a tutor for him/her.  Stop cursing around your child.  Stop smoking and drinking around your child.  Get involved in all aspects of your child's life.  Communicate with him/her.  Remember, you have been blessed and tasked to develop a new life, not recreate your own.

Holla at you later.