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Black In America. A Neighborhood Story.

If someone were to ask me, “Do you like the person that you are today?” I would gladly respond, “Yes, so long as he never finds out (third-person)!” One of the struggles I’ve always had is talking about myself because society has always taught me that speaking about oneself was a form of cockiness. Growing up I was very boisterous and because of my daily environment I became very aggressive, assertive, and dominant. For the first nineteen years of my life I had completely different experiences than the ones I am having now six years later. As a seventeen-year old I remember the Crips burning down the ‘Holly St. Shopping Center’ the day after Michael Ashbury (founded the Crips in Denver in the 70’s) was allegedly killed by a Blood in Parkhill (where I lived). I remember being arrested at twelve for assault and burglary at Hill Middle School after two girls said they were beaten and robbed. In order to find the culprit the school/police called all the black CHILDREN 5’10 to 6’0 tall and lined them up on the wall to allow the girls to select which one of us looks like the criminal. Of course they chose me seeing that I was the best representation of the American Nightmare during the early 2000’s. Tall, young, black, strong, intelligent, athletic, and boisterous. Thankfully the charges were dropped and I escaped spending two-years in a Juvenile Detention Center for looking like a fictional black criminal (the charges were eventually dropped). Again, at 17 I remember being cuffed to the ground after breaking up a fight between two young girls at my coaches request. I’ve been pulled over for getting on a highway too fast, driving at speed limit in ‘wet conditions’, not stopping long enough (1.5 seconds), getting to close to another car, etc. All in all this had led to me paying more than $600 dollars to the State of Colorado for bogus tickets. The best story is when I was a Redshirt-Junior at UNC and one of my roommates threw a birthday party at our house against my suggestions. I told him simply, “We are black football players in an all-white older community. If we throw a party there will be 200+ people in our house (majority Black and football players). The cops will be called. Early.” The police were called at 10:30 pm while I was keeping people out of my neighbors yard and in the house. The first cop came to my door and asked us to remove everyone from the house and so we did. Mind you I have never drank before, I am an FCA leader, Team Leader, Scholar Athlete, statistically one of the top-defensive players in our at this point conference. I had a lot going for me and I wasn’t going to stress out over a party. Eventually a cop goes through our side gates, manually opens our back sliding door, and steps inside of my house. At the time I was seriously considering going to law school after college and I was currently wrapping up my legal studies degree. I knew what he did was illegal. So I asked him to remove himself (respectfully) and he said no. I went and told the supervising cop where his officer was and he had him removed....
But now by this time I have had many, many encounters with the police and none of them good. I was angry and this cop had crossed the line, again. So I decided I was going to report him. It is well within my rights as an American to do so. I take a teammate down the street with me and I said to the cop who had stepped in my house, “Sir, may I have your badge number please?” He replied, “How about I arrest you for inciting a riot instead?”
And just like that I was taken to jail, I had to call my parents to come bail me out. The bail was $300 dollars and the court fee would be $1000. When we went to court I was acquitted. The judge had determined I had done nothing wrong. But the cop was never ‘written up’. I never got his badge number. Actually as I was being hand-cuffed and placed in the car I saw my three roommates yelling and screaming at the police to let me go. Saying, “Of all the people at this party you’re gonna arrest him??(Clearly emphasizing the fact that I was one of the FCA leaders at UNC). Eventually, there were 13 squad cars parked outside of my house and I marveled at what was once a calm environment where we spent the days doing homework and talking after a hard day of football and school. It had now become a place where the police made it clear to remind us what we are. Tall, young, black, strong, intelligent, athletic, and boisterous N****S. I emphasized the last part because one of the cops yelled to my roommates, “We know about N.W.A.! We know how you feel about us!” Completely and utterly unacceptable.
So when it comes to my formation as a Christian and as a man these are SOME of the events that have shaped me and made me into who I am today. Being in the contest where I am now in Seminary at Baylor University, working in Baylor Athletics as a chaplain, I do find it an honest struggle to lay-aside all those years of hurt, pain, and anger. Now-a-days most people don’t know anything about my past or how a majority of my life was before UNC, Baylor, and becoming a Christian in 2010. Now I know who I belong to and I serve Christ gladly whether I am in need or if I have plenty. I desire to see God known and glorified in the Athletics department, in Texas, in the United States, in Brazil, etc. I will serve the Lord Jesus with my mind, body, and spirit until my body is put in the ground either in old age or being martyred in my youth for the sake of the gospel. At least that is my hope. But this is my story. I have been through many more events similar to the ones I have just written about but that is for another paper. The only reason I have written as extensively as I have now is because our current cultural climate is begging for the the gospel to be applied to these centuries-old wounds that exist in our country. Perhaps my story can be apart of our nations healing. This is my personal journey. These are the events God has used to shape the man who stands before you today. There are so many areas that I need to grow in and things I need to give over to God. But everyday I willing and eager for God to make me more like Jesus. I need a little less pride. A little less cynicism. A little less lust in my eyes. A little less distrust in my heart. Everyday is a step forward in my sanctification. But God is faithful and He is clearly moving in me.
“Being confident in this, that he who began a good work in your will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”-Philippians 1:6

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