Those who have followed me and my nonprofit, the
Sweet Potato Project (SPP), know that I’ve written a lot about the challenges of
running a grassroots program on a shoestring budget. Today, I’m not going
there. Today, I feel like one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Today, I’d
like to talk about this incredible gift that’s been given to me and my wish to have
you share it with me.
Every summer for the past six years, I have been privileged
to be in the company of urban youth, many who come from some of the most depressed
areas in our region. I have this rare
opportunity to peek behind historical and social media stereotypes that label black
youth as violent, out-of-control, lazy or doomed. Every year, I am reminded that our proud
history of creative survival, resilience, and faith in the unknown still percolates
in our youth. Generational poverty, senseless violence,
disproportionate health-related deaths, and environments devastated by decades
of neglect, drugs, and prison impact their lives but they still dare to dream.
I feel like one of the luckiest guys on the planet
SPP was birthed from frustration. For 30 years or
more, I have been writing about the problems in the black community. A sad sense
of voyeurism grew as I realized that I was just writing about problems and not
doing anything to address them. The Sweet Potato Project is my “give-back.” In a
way, I’m like a griot, an old dude who’s lived an impoverished but rich life
because so many people believed in me, helped me. I am a walking, talking
testament to what dreams may come if you work at it and never, ever let
anyone or anything define or destroy your version of “success.”
Every week, I have this captive group of young people
who, through their words and deeds, validate the need to reach them in ways that resonates with their unique culture, challenges, and desires.
Oftentimes, many of us act as if young
people created our chaotic communities. Rarely do we acknowledge that they’re
valiantly navigating a world that we created and/or abandoned. We, the adults,
left traditional black neighborhoods and closed our businesses to chase the
illusive dream of integration. We turned our youth over to broken systems (economic,
educational, and criminal justice) and now scratch our heads in bewilderment as
prisons swell and black lives become more and more irrelevant.
Many of us act as if young people created our chaotic communities. Rarely do we acknowledge that they’re valiantly navigating a world that we created and/or abandoned.
To be clear, poverty has a detrimental impact on any
race. However, to be poor and black in a country that’s still institutionally
racist is a unique burden that suffocates the dreams and aspirations of too
many children of color. You can imagine how humbled I am to walk these kids
through the chaos in their lives, while trying to show them a way, a path to
find success and self-sufficiency by their own hands, in their own
neighborhoods.
One of my senior students, Edie Adams (21), talks animatedly
about her love for her “people” and her desire to own land and create jobs and
opportunities for others. This year, through a partnership with St. Louis
University and a small cadre of local nonprofits, we’ll hold classes on buying,
leasing, and securing vacant lots in the city. This group, operating under the banner of the “North
City Food Hub (NCFH),” will also offer horticulture, culinary and entrepreneurial
classes for our youth and other city residents. I am absolutely giddy with the
idea that soon my students and other low-income residents can own land, grow
food, and make money from food packaging and distribution.
What’s most gratifying, yet intimidating is that
the youth we serve get it. Poverty, in a sense, has prepared them for the
improbable. They are inherent survivors in need of direction, validation, and
opportunities to work with what they have at hand. Life has not beaten them
down quite yet. They respond affirmatively when we talk about reclaiming communities
and providing opportunities for their peers and siblings. The great challenge
is giving them the guidance and resources in a society intent on crippling their
ambitions.
I am absolutely giddy with the idea that soon my students and other low-income residents can own land, grow food, and make money from food packaging and distribution.
I have many, many talented friends, followers and associates.
I’ve reached out to entrepreneurs, professionals, politicians, artists, and
activists, inviting them to share this gift with me. Having a degree or fitting
the typical definition of “success” is not important to me or the youth we
serve. “Success” doesn’t always mean you’ve made a lot of money. If you’ve
survived poverty, if you’ve managed to create something, if you have a knack
for words or the ability to motivate; if you possess the passion and heart to listen
and learn from young people…please, share my gift.
SPP encourages students to become innovative, self-sufficient players
in today’s ever-expanding global economy. We want to help young
people develop entrepreneurial and personal skills to become engaged community citizens.
The videos on this page will give you a sample of
what we do but there’s so much more to accomplish in the weeks ahead. There will be lessons
in financial literacy, land-ownership, entrepreneurism, the logistics and legalities
of starting businesses, developing a business plan along with training in sales,
marketing, branding, and food distribution. I have a curriculum brief that
details these areas of study. If you, your business,
or your company wish to help us, message me and I’ll send you the information.
The Sweet Potato Project encourages students to become innovative, self-sufficient players in today’s ever-expanding global economy.
SPP is
as grassroots as it gets. We’ve come this far through the grace of our supporters
and volunteers. most importantly, the kids need to be connected to caring individuals, people who listen and can provide an attentive ear or needed advice. We try to get
them out to different businesses, neighborhoods, and institutions. I
can use a few volunteer drivers to help transport them.
In the
words of Frederick Douglas, “there is no progress without struggle.” It’s been
a rough road for SPP but, for me, this year feels like progress. My “give-back”
is the most satisfying, gratifying and fulfilling thing I’ve done in
my long career. But don’t just take my word for it. Join me and share this gift.
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