for Kenya…
When we first embarked on this event, I knew that it was something that “had to be done.” I realized that our men were in a state of need as it relates to being encouraged and celebrated, and our future black men…well, they are in need, too.
Then it happened…
I went to high school with a young man who was infectious. His demeanor, his smile, his persona…I just thought he was a great guy. Funny enough, we were only a year apart, but I referred to him as “my son.” I would really like to tell you more about him, but it hurts a little to truly think of him, and all that he was. As it happened, high school ended, and I never really saw him again, despite the fact that I thought of him often, and inquired of his well-being.
On January 12th, 2008, “my son” took his own life. He was 33.
Many of my colleagues and friends are aware of this happening in my life, and it takes a lot for me to write this, knowing that I never had the chance to sow seeds of encouragement into this–now young man’s–life. High school is one thing, but the time it takes to become a part of someone’s adult life…to be a positive influence on their “grown-up” existence is something else.
Please don’t mistake this post, I don’t feel like I could’ve saved him, or this might not of happened if I had talked to him. I just know that for all the love I had for him, I didn’t get the chance to let him know, or to be there for him like I would’ve liked to be.
I lost that chance…I won’t lose this one.
