</a

I’m tired of living in the hood

Where gray is brain and red is blood

And children would leave if they could

And poor families are often misunderstood

I’m tired of seeing young folk roll in chairs

with wheels who can no longer climb the stairs

not because they were born with such disableness

but because they were shot; blessed to live no less

I’m tired of seeing mothers sobbing and crying

whild holding a child on the street that is dying

I’m tired of seeing fathers sigh

while cursing God and asking why

I’m tired of seeing brothers and sisters mad at the world; feeling defeat

because their brother’s been killed by their friend down the street

I’m tired of seeing whole neighborhoods in dispair in need of repair

And everyone talking but nobody’s walking the walk or showing they care

I’m tired of praying for an uneventful day

Instead of for real things, like people should pray

I’m tired of the fear to walk to the store

or call the police for fear of turf war;

for fear that my own children will bear consequence

of me aiding the law makers in stopping the noncense.

I’m tired of not having the words to say to a relative

whose lost her son and is trying to live on and forgive

I’m tired of not knowing just what to convey

to that parent at the funeral – tell me what would you say?

I’m tired of mothers and fathers not teaching their own

about life respect and those many seeds that should be sown

instead of street, drugs, disrespect and tit for tat

thinking thug is cute; in the drug game with wallets fat

I’m tired of parents loosing all control

of their own self-respect to their 12-year old

I’m tired of parents being too lazy, tired or scared to disipline

Or trying to be cool; you can’t be a parent and be his friend

Even a real friend tells a friend right from wrong

Not leave it up to him to find out on his own

I tell you! I am sick and damn tired

of young babies with babies who end up expired

before they are 20; oftentimes even younger

What happend to neighborhood unity; I wonder!

I’m tired of everyone scared to speak up

of the filth and the rubbish that is all down the block

In fear of that thug down the street with a glock

I’m tired of whispering a prayer of relief when I find

out the teen laying out on the street is not one of mine

I’m tired of no activities; no community centers

No movies or skatelands; no positive mentors

We’ve all dropped the ball on a whole generation

of young people who know no love from our nation

I’m tired of those who refuse to inconvience themself

for the benefit of the life of a child, inspite of themself

I’m tired of the talking papers, the reports and surveys

The crack and the smack and lean that causes brain decay

I’m tired of the empty prayers placed on the shelf

I’m tired of the hood; I’m tired of myself.

~Written by CordieB. 

————-

Update on Deshun Taylor’s case: 

All three suspects in the Wednesday killing of an East End seventh-grade middle school student have been arrested, a crowd mourning the death of the slain boy learned last night.

The mourners were gathered for a candlelight prayer vigil in the 2200 block of Fairfield Avenue, near where 14-year-old Deshun Taylor was felled by a bullet Wednesday about 2 p.m.

Alicia Rasin, an advocate for the families of homicide victims, announced shortly after 8 p.m. that interim Police Chief David McCoy just had told her the third suspect had been caught.  Read More . . .

More Posts and News

A few of Comments from Richmond Citizens

Vigil Photos

A new report issued by experts at Northeastern University on patterns and trends in homicide since 2000 shows that, despite the small fluctuations in overall homicide rates, there has been a dramatic surge (40%) in homicides involving young black males with guns. The findings paint a very different picture concerning recent trends in murder from the apparent tranquility suggested by overall statistics released by the FBI.  More…
 

Duh…  Everyone is in shock of this new study!  I for one am not in shock.   I see and live with it every day.  I write about it all the time.  If we don’t start investing in our youth, we are headed for self genicide…at an alarming rate.  In recent months, I’ve written about the crack epidemic of the 80′s  which damn near destroyed a whole generation; the deaths of Jamal, Erika and 14 year old, Deshaun.    There are countless others whom I have not written about. . . yet my thoughts of the senseless violence remain heavy on my heart. 

This study reflects what many inner city residents have been crying about for the past 10 years.   It’s ok to cry, it’s alright to complain. .. but all the crying and complaining is not going to make the least bit of change!  We have to start working proactively to save our black youth.  Our black youth are killing and maiming each other at alarming rates!  The coldness in the eyes of some of these young men bring a chill to my bones.  I talk with them; I walk with them. . . but the hardest thing for me to do is to reach them.    A collaborative effort is needed to put life back into the hearts of many of our young black men.    It will take family, community and government intervention.   You may not be affected by the violence at this time, but at this rate–the spillage of violence will reach you very soon. 

I challenge everyone reading this to take the time to talk to that young man on the corner.  Offer another view of life than the one he has doomed himself to living.  Take the time to show compassion to that young man whose mother is “out there.”  Take the time to show some compassion to the mother, herself.  Take some time to talk to a young couple about remaining active in the roles of their children.

I challenge all of us to take a proactive stance in turning this murderous trend downward.    If we don’t take a stance, no one will do it for us.  Trust me!

Rembember. . . next time the call could be about one of your very own. . . an innocent bystander… or not…

–We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.
Martin Luther King, Jr.

–Peace, Light and Love. . . CordieB.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qWosJEFHIQ

Hello beautiful people.  As you know, every so often I write about the violence that is occuring in my beautiful city – and often times the violence hits pretty close to home.  Well this weekend was no better.  Three young people were killed in the Richmond area this weekend.  I don’t know the victims, but nevertheless – I am sad, I am mad, I am frightened.  Three mothers lost their sons this weekend; one of them lost her only son.  And for what?  What ever the reason was, it more than likely can’t be remembered today. 

A lot of the murders in this area are considered to be drug related; and they are I suppose–but when you really dig deeper, you will see something else.    You see, the individuals who commit these murders are not addicts – they do not use drugs.   The young are killing and being killed for what they consider respect!  These are not drug addicts attacking for a hit.  These are young people who are obsessing on sharing a block; sending a message –feeling disrespected by words or actions–bottom line young people are being killed due to perceived disrespect.  

More young people are being killed today for "dissing" someone than for actual money or drugs.   Step on a shoe – bang bang; dance with someone’s girlfriend; bang bang!  walk in a neighborhod other than your own, bang, bang!

When did this mentality start in my community?  Most people don’t believe me, but I can almost point out the summer that this mentality started to brew in the hood. 

Back in 1985 when Crack Cocaine was prevalent in the North, I read a news article that Crack was coming to Virginia.  No one anticipated that this drug would destroy families, neighborhoods, and whole communities.  The children who are so easy to kill today are the children who were left to fend for themselves during the crack epidemic that hit our city. 

Most of these children were not left to another parent, or a neighbor or familiy member.  Since crack swept this city in epidemic proportions, there were few who cared any more than the addicted mother as all were equally addicted.    The few who were not were overly burdend with other’s children.  It was a very sad time in Richmond, VA.  I have countless numbers of friends who lost their homes, their families, damn near their soul to crack cocaine. 

For the first time in my life, I saw mothers willing to trick their chidlren; husbands and wives tricking in the same family,  people stealing from family.   I saw people loose $200,000 homes within 6 months;  I saw people who lived in $300,000 homes with no heat, air, or water.   I saw people rent their brand new cars to crack dealers for a small amount of crack; I saw people sign over their whole pay checks to a crack dealer at the end of the week – and start in the hole again! 

 I mean, people, I sawa behavior which I had never seen.  I would have bet a million a few months earler that it were not possible.  Most did not believe that the drug would be so addictive and take people to such lows.  Most believed they could use it recreationally, or at least control it like powdered cocaine.  All were sadly and many were deathly mistaken.

Now, during this time, many, many children were born to women addicted to crack cocaine.  Also, many of these women had children who were still young.  Now, crack makes one loose all sense of dignity – so what do you think became of these children.  They were left to fend for themselves most of the time.  Since whole neighborhoods were addicted, no one could really fix the problem.  The children who were left to fend for themselves saw, heard, and experienced a life of sorrow, distachment and hell.  They grew with little love and  few comforts.  They grew to have little respect for their mothers, let alone other people!  They watched their christmas toys be sold to crack dealers on Christmas Eve; they watched whole houses of furniture be sold, including their beds.  They grew up with a serious chip on their shoulders and I can’t blame them for having developed that chip.  

So, now it’s 2008.  This is the product which has been sowed.  How do we teach real respect to a generation who received so little respect at such impressionary ages?  How do we teach love to those who missed out on love by so many at a crucial time in their development.   The issues are really more complicated than most see from a distance.   Any ideas?  Oh, you’ve got to listen to Kanye’s video – this is what the kids are saying!

But today I simply want to share wise words from the Bible in memory of Erica . . . and all the young people who have lost their lives far too quickly in my human eyes. . . I also must remember . . .

To everything there is a season, and
a time to every purpose under the heavens:

A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a
time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a
time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to
refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,
and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;
a time of war, and a time of peace.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. . .

Ecclesiastes 3:1

I ask, when will the time come for Peace!  Do we simply wait for the tables to turn or do we do something to promote it?   I feel that we must shift the paradigm of war and violence; it is time we started making positive steps to ensuring peace in our homes, our neighborhoods, our communities, our world!   It all begins in the homes. . . we can control that little bit of our universe, don’t you think?  It will grow if enough seeds are planted.  Do the tables simply turn without our interference in any manner?  Will it all balance itself out in time?   Do we not have to sow in order to harvest?  Is not what we sow not what is harvested?  Continue being indifferent if we must, but one day our peace might be shattered . . .    Therefore, I must do something. . . .

Peace, Light and Love, CordieB.