Showing posts with label heroin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heroin. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

HHCF Juvenile Hall Diary Day 2 and 3!!!

HHCF Juvenile Hall Diary Day 2 & 3



OK, so my second day I go in and things get real intense, real fast. The kid with the tats who I played and tried to connect with came in tripping. One of the things about the hall is that things happen there that you don’t know about and cannot control. So even if you come in super positive the internal power struggles between the kids, staff and the kids within themselves can make things volotile.

He came in with another kid and though they were in my room there doing what I call “The ostrich thing.” That is when they pull their sweater over their head and put their head on their desk. I don’t tolerate that kinda activity.

I asked them to chill and show respect to the lesson and the time I’m sharing with them. Both sat back up. Later, he starts talking to his boy about street drama and his case. I remind him he needs to quiet up. He starts poppin’ off dropping n-bombs and stuff. I just calmly walked over to the door and had the JIO ‘s (like a CO for juve) come take him out. He was pretty negative on the way out, but the rest of the class was chill.

The rest of the DAY was chill to be honest. I must say though that the peanut butter colored walls and fluorescent lighting really messes with your sense of internal peace. We worked on how to use your rooks together and I showed them the famous Opera House Massacre game by Morphy and talked about the importance of consistence. “What is the queen sacrifice of your life? How seriously are you taking yourself, and your actions irrespective of who you think is ‘hating’ on you?”

They got it. The gaming that day was super positive and fun.

I had some great games with the kids who I played soft the day before. It was a nail biter from front to back.

Day 3



When came in the hall I had my first thoughts ready to go. The kids came in super positive. I told the JIO’s that I would not be taking the kid who was disrespectful from the day before. I opened by giving them some hard, straight talk to realign their collective purpose.

I wrote in huge letters on the whiteboard: INTELLIGENCE WITHOUT DISCIPLINE IS A CURSE!!!

I reminded them that I chose to be there. “ I struggled with drinking and I did a lot of stupid things in high school, but I never got caught” I told them. “ I dropped out, I had to teach myself the bulk of everything I’m doing today. But I need you to respect my time. If you are not interested in living better than you are, go back to your room.” I let the last sentence hang in the air to emphasize my seriousness.

“You know, between the games I hear you all talking about how the streets love you. How the block has your back. But when I come in the morning, I don’t see any of them in line to see you. Nobody is checking to kick it with you. Where all that hood love at?! I don’t see it” I spat defiantly. You should have seen their eyes. They were staring me down with a lot of raw emotion.

“We can’t have friends here. Only family!” one of the boys snapped back.

Before I could respond a JIO in the room with a voice like Barry White yelled out “So what?! Where y’all letters at? Ain’t nobody writing y’all. Keep it real! Nobody checkin’ for you.” Then he looked at me and nodded.

“The hood ain’t missing you. The block don’t miss you. The block don’t miss me. None of us are special and when we are gone, it keeps going on. My point of saying this is not to hurt your feelings. My point is to ask if that is a fact, why do some of you come into my class and waste my time and my knowledge and wisdom that I am trying to bring to you.?!” I was not yelling, but there was what Bruce Lee would call “emotional content”.

“For the rest of your life, it is unlikely that you gonna meet someone that knew Pac, knew The Jacka, knew Eazy and saw some of the greatest to ever do it- do their thing.” I was wearing a college sweatshirt. I pulled on the shirt at the shoulders and said “These colleges I speak at, I taught myself everything I speak on. I guest lecture there because of all the reading I did. All the hours I put in to get that knowledge. I bring it to you from a place of love because I know you don’t understand everything waiting for you outside.”

I paused to let that sink in.

“Most of you don’t even understand how you got here. I can tell you a little bit of how it happened. In 1967 the FBI rolled out to programs. One was called BLACKPRO and the other was called COINTELPRO. Both were aimed at undermiing Black leadership coast to coast. They had an army of 3,000 informants.”

Now before this keep in mind that J. Edgar Hoover, one of the early heads of the FBI was trying to get Black people to take heroin. But Blacks at the time did not like needles. This was back when most of your grandparents were young. In the 80’s White middle class and rich kids did cocaine powder- but Blacks did crack. Whites got short sentences for powder. Many Blacks and Latinos did life for crack.”

“Today, you kids are all taking syrup. Codeine, promethazine, percocet, etc. All of them are opiates- liquid heroin. You are living the dream that Hoover wanted for your grandparents.”

One of the kids interrupted me. “Stop talking about syrup so much. I want some right now.” a boy confessed without reservation. Despite being under 16 his favorite drink is percocets dissolved in Patron. So scary.

“Look” I continued “The closer you are to those drugs, the closer you are to making a mistake that will get you locked up. It is not an accident. Y’all are kids. Alcohol is illegal right? So how is it that billion dollar pharmaceutical companies are able to lose all this top grade syrup and it just happens to be available for cheap in your hood? How is it for sale by your homies at school. Because it is not an accident.”

I pointed to the a digital display of a chessboard. Right now, in the game of life, you are all in check. It is almost over for you. I hope you realize the seriousness of the times you are living in.” By now the room was pretty silent.

“What is the good thing about being in check though?” I asked the strongest Latino chess player.

“He nodded as he spoke to the class “There is still a way out.”

“EXACTLY!.I cried out. “ Exactly. There is still a way out. That is the blessing. I’m telling you now. Stay sober, study, play this game and find your way out. Let me do that for you. The game ain’t over. You can win this, but let me help you.”

From there we went into studying knights. The games were amazing. The one who admitted his addiction played the hardest and came a long way. Monday he did not know the how the pieces moved. Today he was losing, but he was checking people and growing with the game.

I lost a game to a kid after a foolish exchange. Tomorrow, I'm gonna go super hard. These kids are brilliant.

I took some photos of some of the games that got played. I cannot take pics of their faces. But you see the high cognitive function of the kids. A lot of these teens are considered ADD or ADHD. But look at the high level cognitive function happening. Kids this smart should be recruited by Google, Microsoft, Facebook, Twitter and Oracle. They don’t need to hire folks from Asia, India, Africa and China. They can go to NY, LA, Chicago and St. Louis and raise American minds to do this work. Fantastic American genius is being abandoned everyday simply because they were born Black, Brown or poor. Our technology companies need to take big steps to fix this.

I love these moments. I love these opportunities and I thank you for taking the time to read this blog.



PARENTS: Below is a huge song called “Mask Off” by Future that openly promotes the use of “molly” percocets and other opiates to our kids. This style is called Trap Music. The trap is, that if the kids soak in songs like these it leads them to the trap of addiction. I love Hip-Hop. But old school music always had a balanced dialogue. All the popular music on the radio and TV these days is sadly in this vein. Peep the beauty of the melody. IT is an amazingly well produced track. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Future was hired by Hoover.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Chess, Choices and Needles in the Park....


This morning I was at a park in San Jose with my students. They were playing tag, pushing one another on the swings and throwing footballs as kids love to do. Suddenly one of the boys approached me smiling, waving a hypodermic needle.

"Mr. B, what is this for? What does it do?!"

"Put that down right now!" I barked. "Right now."

He dropped it. Scared. I never yelled at any of the kids like that before.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

"By the bench. By the baby swings." he said in a low tone.

"Did you poke yourself? Did you poke anybody? I need to know the truth." My voice had less traces of panic it.

He shook is head. "I just picked it up. I did not know what it was."

I called all the students over. I explained what the needle on the cement was often used for. That people use it to shoot drugs and you can get HIV, Hepatitis C or B from getting cut by them and how those things often kill people. I told them "When I was your age, I never played in parks with needles and stuff in them. You shouldn't have do. But this is real life. So, you have to know what is going on in this world. I know people say 'Say no to drugs' but you guys have to know this will cut your life short. Immediately. Cut it right off..."

I told him to go wash his hands then I had him see the nurse to look at his hands for abrasions or cuts just to make sure he was ok. He was.

I got rid of the needle.

Just as I headed off I saw a mother bring two 3 year olds to the area where the needle had been laying. My heart started racing. "What if one of them found it and scraped themselves or their brother or sister with the needle, not knowing?" I asked myself. "What if the mother never saw. She'd always wonder." They waddled past me, oblivious.

 I had the next few classes come out with me and clean the park. I told most of them why. I got exhausted emotionally telling 12, 13, and 14 year olds what happened. I had a cousin die of heroin at 19...I kept seeing his face....Sometimes I see people who look like, what I think he would look like if he were alive....Their faces stay in my mind.... I recently had a dream about a student I mentored who was killed a few months ago. In my dream, he was in a fight with another student. In the dream I watched the fight and did nothing to break it up. I awoke shaken.

Sometimes I rub people the wrong way. Don't get me wrong. I'm friendly, and silly. I watch cartoons more than anything, mostly to escape the pain of reality. However, at times, I can be short with people or seemingly lost in thought. I often am.

I feel like when I do my job wrong, death happens. I know we all die anyway. I know. But when I don't get through to my kids, I know a jail cell or a coffin is waiting for them.

When I started jiu-jitsu at Ralph Gracies' he used to get so pissed off if he thought you were doing a move sloppily or without passion and focus. It used to boggle my mind. "Why is he tripping?" I would ask myself. I understand now though. His fear, was that learning his teachings wrong you might find yourself in a real situation and you would lose. He took your loss personally.

"Didn't that guy train with Ralph? I thought they knew how to fight better." That was Ralph's nightmare and he still gives his all passing on the wisdom and the toughness of mind and body.

"Didn't he learn from Adisa.? I thought she played chess?" That, is my nightmare.

I take these losses personally. So if I ever seem like I take the methods of HHCF too seriously. If I ever come off like understanding Hip-Hop history and subculture matter a lot...If I ever seem like I take chess and life strategies too seriously. This is why.

Because kids bring me hypodermic needs in class and I'm trying to make sure they live. Not just today, but ten years from now I want them to be alive because I taught them how to survive.

Over the course of cleaning the park we found a bag of weed (with a little left in it), a weed pipe and a lighter. Gang tags were all over the park benches. Our kids deserve better. I will do all I can to give them better and I promise you. I will die trying.

I don't have any love for any gang. I don't have any love for dope dealers.


Uproxx Covers HHCF Founder plus, FREE PDF download of Bobby Bruce and the Bronx Available

The book Bobby Bruce & the Bronx by Adisa the Bishop is now available from this day forward FREE in PDF form. Please enjoy it and share ...