Mentorship honors King’s legacy
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., once said, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’ ”
It is a question I asked myself as I observed black boys watching drug dealers working their trade on our city’s streets, envisioning that they would do the same when they grew up. It saddened me how evident it was that they wanted to emulate criminals, never considering the likelihood that they would end up on the long list of young men I frequently locked up during my career as an agent for the federal Drug Enforcement Administration.
When I learned about the 5000 Role Models of Excellence Project, the in-school, dropout prevention program that Congresswoman Frederica S. Wilson founded to address the needs of at-risk boys of color, I had to sign up. This is a program I need to be a part of so that I can actually go out and talk to kids and help them realize what they can accomplish, I remember thinking.
Fast-forward 25 years and there are few experiences in my life that have been as rewarding as my work with the Role Model boys. Because part of my goal was to get them off the streets, I participated in field trips during the week but also spent time with the boys on weekends, during which we took them to sporting events and had them march in local parades.
When Rep. Wilson served in the state Legislature, we traveled to Tallahassee so they could see our state government at work. We also have traveled to Washington, D.C. Each time, the sight of these young men walking through the airport in the program’s signature uniform of a white shirt, black trousers, and red ties, heads would turn. Who are these impressive young men, fellow travelers often asked.
While it was necessary to broaden the boys’ horizons beyond their communities, our most meaningful and impactful interactions involved just talking with them. I emphasize the word with, because one of the fastest ways to lose a kid’s attention is to talk at him. More important, very often what they need most is someone who looks like them to listen.
That was my experience with a young man I met at my church several years ago. His drug-addicted mother died two years ago and his father was absent. Though shy, he found the courage to join conversations he saw me having with the Role Model boys in our congregation and eventually began to open up. Sometimes he would come to my family’s home on the weekend just to hang out.
Like many at-risk youth, he teetered between the lure of bad influences and hoping for a bright future. He wanted to go to college, but given his circumstances, did not believe it would be possible. Joining the Role Models program, I assured him, would help get him there. Today he is a freshman at Florida A&M University, and plans to become a lawyer. He also helps mentor some of the boys at our church.
One of the most important lessons that Role Model boys learn is that they can be somebody. They begin to dream bigger. As we celebrate the program’s 25th anniversary and honor the life and legacy of Dr. King, I urge men across the state to seriously consider becoming a mentor. I can’t even find the words to describe how fulfilling it is to see an at-risk boy evolve into a young man with a future and then hear him say, “Thank you for helping me turn my life around.”
James Williams is a retired special agent for the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration.