Pubdate: Tue, 25 Apr 2006 Source: Chicago Sun-Times (IL) Copyright: 2006 The Sun-Times Co. Contact: http://www.suntimes.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/81 Author: Mary Mitchell, Sun-Times Columnist Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/youth.htm (Youth) WE CAN'T LET DIRE REPORTS SNUFF HOPES OF BLACK YOUTH What am I to tell black children? Every spring, I'm invited to speak at public school graduations. But instead of being excited about participating in this rite of passage, my stomach churns. The news we hear regularly about black youth, especially males, is not good. Too many of them drop out of high school. Too many of them end up in the criminal justice system. Too many of them are toting guns. Too many of them die before reaching 21. Now, researchers are lamenting that Chicago public school students, many of them black and Hispanic, who do go on to college take too long to graduate. Through research data and statistics, we are painting a portrait of black youth that is so troubled, improving their lot in life can seem hopeless. Yet when I step up to the podium on graduation day and look out at the sea of caps and gowns; when I soak up the sight of mothers and fathers, grandmothers and uncles who fill up the auditorium, I know we are not hopeless. Maybe what we really need is a moratorium on researchers digging into the lives of black people. African Americans are drowning in negative reports about the plight of black youth. Put studies into perspective It would be one thing if those reports triggered a real change in social policies. But that's not the case. Instead of helping this population, we've seen policy changes -- such as prohibiting a person who has been convicted of a drug-related crime from obtaining financial aid -- that make it even harder for young black men to break the cycle of poverty. Still, what pains me the most is that these negative reports -- particularly the ones that dissect black males -- rarely take into account the environment in which these students grow up. The burdens of the poor are usually summed up in a footnote explaining that they live below the poverty line. My parents sheltered me from our poverty. In fact, I didn't know we were considered poor until I went to high school and met people who lived "Out South" instead of in public housing. We were kept clean. We had breakfast, lunch and dinner -- even if lunch was a mayonnaise sandwich. We may have been poor, but we grew up with the sense that our parents cared about us. But what does being an impoverished kid mean today? Their problems are a lot bigger than not having a hot breakfast before going to school. For many of them, the last thing on their minds is turning in a homework assignment or studying hard enough to bring home A's and B's. It's not that black people don't value excellence. Of course they do. But there are black families that have been left so far behind, they might as well be living in another country. For instance, the recent stories about drug dealers giving out free samples of what turned out to be tainted heroin on the South Side is telling. The tainted drugs were apparently passed out in Englewood and in the Dearborn Homes, a CHA public housing development. These are the same areas with chronically bad schools. Daniel Hale Williams, for example, is located in the Dearborn Homes development. It was such a low-performing school, schools chief Arne Duncan ordered it closed in 2002. Many of the same people who are selling and abusing drugs are the same people who either are neglecting their children or have abandoned them. Some of the abandoned children are being raised by their grandparents, relatives or are in foster care. And, frankly, some of these kids are struggling every day just to get to school in one piece. When I put these negative reports about black youth into perspective, I am encouraged by the kids who thrive despite their challenges. Words of advice to graduates What will I tell black children? I will tell them that I was the first person in my family to graduate from college -- and it took me 20 years to do it. I will tell them that like a lot of other poor black people in my generation, no one encouraged me to consider college, let alone apply to one. But a college degree put me into a game I didn't know was being played. Still, I will tell them that college didn't measure my intellect, only my determination. I will tell them that there is no shame in trying and trying again. I will tell them that surviving a bad upbringing is one of life's richest rewards. I will tell them that poverty is a temporary condition, not a fatal disease. I will tell them that they cannot judge themselves by someone else's standards. They must set their own. I will tell them that it doesn't matter how long it takes to obtain a goal; what matters most is reaching for it. I will tell them, that if they can't lift a friend up, don't let the friend drag them down. Finally, I will tell black children they have the power to not only change their own lives, but to change the conditions that have put black life under a microscope.