City Drug Wars

Some of my student’s heroes were not sport’s stars. It didn’t surprise me. Gold chains, large bankrolls, gold grills, large diamond rings, expensive cars, designer clothes and what they called “hot babes” were the makings of successful drug lords who employed them. They were easily led. Many were parentless at a very young age and raised by grandparents, siblings or worse, the streets of Detroit. Looking at their inmate files I saw a pattern. Many were born in the same year of my own children, when crack cocaine ruled the city, and gangs fought each other endlessly for power. They were also parentless. Some were wards of the juvenile justice system before catching larger cases and going to prison. Many were involved in the city’s ongoing drug trade, and were used by the gangs to deliver the wares of the trade. They would be caught and eventually arrested never attaining the status they sought, but that didn’t keep them from trying. They were nothing to the gangs but mules. Some would never comprehend that. I believed they were the crack babies I saw in the nurseries of the hospital. That was just my myopic view at the time.

If I could get these students to understand that they were being used, I might be able to reach them in my classroom, but they were loyal to the people responsible for employing them as mules. I understood that. However, I was obligated as a teacher to show them a different way. A way that didn’t include a life of crime. I was able to reach one young man that I was made aware of by an organization dedicated to helping young men just like him. Focus Hope was that organization. I had written about them in an earlier post. I had met Eleanor Jositus at an education conference in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I found her to be genuine and would meet her again at Focus Hope, Detroit, for a conference she organized on inner city education. She informed me of this young mans progress in the machining school and again thanked me for all I do to direct our students to Focus Hope. I had to inform her I was not the only one. There were many teachers in the MDOC committed to helping these young men and women find the right direction. She acknowledged them at the conference. With that she smiled and offered me her home baked cookies.

Her praise was authentic. It came just after our Governor’s hired speaker admonished us for not doing enough and politicalizing corrections education. I was glad to hear my student was not the only young man who found his way to Focus Hope. The possibilities and opportunities could be available for them if they could break free from the drug trade. However, I had to realize that some of my students would not leave the drug trade. They would end up dead on drug deals gone bad. The glamor and glitz offered was just as addictive as the drugs they would mule. Gold chains, designer clothes, and the respect they thought that life offered them with all that wealth was hard to walk away from when you were used to not having anything. Still, I would try to teach them what integrity was all about, and how they could repair their reputations doing good in their communities. It had to start with their hearts.

As a young man running to the corner White Castle to bring my colleagues at the medical center our biweekly payday treat, I witnessed a beating in front of the Brewster Projects. Two young African American men dressed in Black Suits, white shirts, and red bow ties were beating a man for bringing “poison” to the neighborhood. When I questioned my colleagues about it they said, “The Nation of Islam does not tolerate drug dealers.” Remembering this incident, I wondered how I could bring this message to my students? I could begin my lecture with “you are poisoning your brothers and sisters by working in this trade. Why do you continue doing this? There are legal ways of earning a good living, and having a skilled trade will make you all the more valuable. Make a positive contribution in your community. Don’t poison it. My lecturing was heard by some of my students but not by those choosing what they thought was the path to wealth and fame. They would rather take their chances and dance with the devil. Unfortunately. I could only wonder, were these the crack babies is saw in the hospital nurseries many years ago? Does it matter? ..Prison Stories to be continued…

I STAND WITH ISREAL. ALL COUNTRIES HAVE THE RIGHT TO DEFEND THEMSELVES FROM TERROISM AND ELIMINATE IT.