Solomon Jones: A plea to all for the good of our children
I WORRY about our city's boys. I worry because there are those who will judge them before they open their mouths, break their spirits with discouragement and innuendo and attack them with weapons as seemingly benign as low expectations.
I WORRY about our city's boys. I worry because there are those who will judge them before they open their mouths, break their spirits with discouragement and innuendo and attack them with weapons as seemingly benign as low expectations.
Such people destroy boys from the inside out. They tell them, directly or otherwise, that they are stupid. They show them, through preferential treatment, that others are more valuable. Through subtle actions, they give them the impression that their lives are disposable. In short, they damage their souls.
Such people steal the potential of those boys before it can be realized, and in doing so, prepare them for lives on the fringes of society. Those people come in every color. They hail from every income level. They are men and women, young and old, black and white, rich and poor. I know this because I faced them growing up.
And I know that the boys in our city face similar battles now.
I try to prepare my own son to face those battles by extolling his intellect and his potential and by telling him that he is loved. But there's nothing more powerful than seeing his potential lived out before him.
That's why I made sure he saw President Obama's speech on education. Not just to hear the president say that it's important to stay in school and try hard. Not just to hear the president warn that quitting school is quitting on America. Not just to hear the president recount his own struggles as a boy. I made sure my son saw the president's speech so that he could see a role model repeat the very principles I'm trying to live out before him.
I need my son, and all our city's boys, to know that they are more than just the future of Philadelphia. They are the future of our country, and no matter what they're facing, no matter who tells them they can't, no matter who stands in their way, they must make the effort to become men.
And being a man is simple. It means being responsible, providing for your family, and protecting them from harm. For boys who face the uphill climb to manhood in environments that are sometimes more dangerous than nurturing, knowing that the president cared enough to speak to them might be enough. And seeing a president who looks like them will surely leave an indelible imprint.
But this is about far more than boys who need to see the president as a role model. This is about all of us, because the fact of the matter is, we can't afford to leave one child's potential untapped.
In moments like these, when our president convenes children and parents, teachers and administrators, all in the cause of investing in our nation's future, we can't allow it to dissolve into petty squabbles.
Such behavior creates an atmosphere in which a dissenting congressman calls the president of the United States a liar in front of the world. It creates an atmosphere in which debate dissolves into rancor and disagreement disintegrates into hate. It creates an atmosphere that none of us should accept.
Why? Because as we mark the eighth anniversary of Sept. 11, we need to remember this simple truth: Our enemies didn't care if we were Democrat or Republican, black or white, male or female. They only cared that we were American, and they killed thousands of us indiscriminately.
If we learned anything from that terrible day, it should be this: We are one nation, regardless of political party, skin color or any other measure. And if we forget that, for even one moment, we divide ourselves in the faces of our enemies, and give them the opportunity to drive a wedge between us. That weakens our nation. And it doesn't just hurt the children who look like President Obama. It hurts the children who don't.
Solomon Jones' column appears every Saturday. He can be reached at