MANSFIELD: The Negro Wranglers

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Please excuse the use of the archaic word “Negro” in the title, but, by your gracious patience, the appropriateness of said usage will manifest itself as you continue reading.

Or at least I hope it will.

The nonprofit Brenda and I manage is dedicated to turning young boys — and sometimes girls — into upstanding adults, and we do this via mentoring. But we know that all the mentoring in the world will do no good if we don’t first solve these young folks’ immediate and pressing problem: poverty. It’s a bitch being broke in an iPhone world, and the first thing all of our young employees do upon receiving their first paycheck is to purchase a communications device.

Virtually everyone else on the planet has one, so all they are doing is attempting to be normal by having one also. And it’s a proven fact the most prevalent juvenile crime today is one kid robbing another one of their cell phone. We try to prevent that by providing a means whereby our young wards can honestly earn one.

And how are we sometimes repaid for our concern and caring? By the treachery of theft; not too often, but on more than one occasion I’ve caught one of our youth stealing, or attempting to steal something.

Now, before you go “tsk, tsk” and shake your head in disproval, keep in mind that probably before the week is out, there will be an article in the newspaper regarding some middle-class, trusted adult person getting caught embezzling funds — oftentimes hundreds of thousands of dollars — from their employer. And often the theft occurred over a period of years.

But no one in this country should be surprised at theft since America was founded on stealing: How did Christopher Columbus “discover” a country that wasn’t “lost” in the first place? This disingenuous trope is still believed due to the fact that the original inhabitants of the land have been portrayed as “savages.” However, we now know the real “savages” were — and are — those individuals who came to a literal paradise and immediately began clear-cutting forests, eventually progressing on to paving over land with parking lots, polluting the waters and befouling the very air we all have to breathe. And all in the name of the “Great God Profit.”

When a nation of people will, with malice aforethought, stoop so low as to rob — literally steal from — Mother Nature herself, why should we be surprised at any lesser, pettier thefts by the progeny of these original despoilers?

And while I’m a pointing a finger at wrongdoing, let me not excuse myself, since for close to a quarter century, I was a counterfeiter of Merrill Lynch credit cards. My only excuse is that I knew Merrill Lynch is not a real person. Really. And for years I simply told myself I was “extricating” — “liberating” the funds from greedy Wall Street robber barons. (It’s simply amazing how the human mind can exculpate one’s own misdeeds, isn’t it?)

Nonetheless, when this young “Negro” recently stole from me, I was immediately hurt and angered. I’d taken him straight out of juvenile prison (where he’d spent the last two years for a crime I still believe he didn’t commit) at age 19 and given him a part-time job starting at $9 per hour, the rate we start all of our young people at. And we are fairly liberal with giving raises to those who prove themselves hardworking and worthy.

The “theft” was petty. I always keep change in the armrest of my truck for parking, and one day over two months ago, upon pulling up to a meter, all of the quarters were gone and I was sure I had just refilled the change holder a few days before.

But since there had been more than one young person who had access to my truck I didn’t say anything, except to ask Brenda if she had, for some reason, taken my quarters, which, of course, she hadn’t. But she did look at me as if I had two heads.

Since one of the employees has been with us for five years and has passed all of the tests (yes, I’m not as big of a sucker as some of these young people think; I do set traps to test their honesty) with flying colors, I had a pretty good idea who the thief was. I simply waited.

And on Super Bowl Sunday he struck again. He was the only person around at the time, and even though I wasn’t thinking about the previous missing quarters, I went to retrieve something out of the armrest and — you guessed it — no quarters.

Albeit, not a major heist: $2.

Nonetheless I was fit to be tied, since we’ve been doing more for this well-mannered young “Negro” (a term we use to describe those stuck in 1950s type of thinking) as we attempted to raise him into a young black man than just about any of our current or former employees. But this is what Brenda and I signed on for: In a little, in a lot; we try to help these young people in many areas, knowing full well in advance that we’re going to lose more often than we’re going to win. Alas, such is the nature of mentoring.

After I confronted the young man he eventually confessed — but he didn’t reach into his pocket and offer to give me my quarters back before I sent him packing. Amazing, simply amazing.

Now, hanging on the cross is not my strong suit. Playing the wounded martyr, the dude who tried to help but was done wrong, is not part of my DNA. I can walk away from this young thief and not give him a second thought, simply because there are so many other young people out there who also are in dire need to help. And yes, many of them are also ill-raised and could be thieves also.

Therefore I’m faced with a dilemma: Do I try to counsel this young man in hopes of correcting his thinking, or am I simply wasting my time? Yes, I’m looking for answers here.

But I’m not looking for soft-hearted or soft-headed input. Nor am I seeking religious answers since I doubt this young man has ever seen the inside of a church, so “praying over it” is not going to work. Additionally, I’m not attempting to shift responsibility to you, gentle reader. In the end, I’m going to be the one who makes the final decision as to whether this Negro gets another shot or not.

But I would welcome some reasoned and well thought out input. Thanks in advance.

mansfieldcity

From Cool Cleveland correspondent Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com. Frazier’s From Behind The Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available again in hardback. Snag your copy and have it signed by the author by visiting http://NeighborhoodSolutionsInc.com.

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6 Responses to “MANSFIELD: The Negro Wranglers”

  1. Cicely

    Consider this: has anyone ever given you a second chance? If not, would it have made a difference in your life?

  2. Pete

    No. Let him go, at least for now. You are better equipped than anyone I know of to see where the limits of kindness lie, but from my distance, it looks like these little betrayals will just add up to a big one, and someone could even get hurt. If you want, you could give him a severance check as an excuse to burn his ears with a short lecture. You could even tell him that if he finds a way to stay clean and straight, you might welcome him back after a year or so. I’m guessing he can’t do it, but maybe returning to the fold could motivate him.

  3. linda james

    Give him another chance.

  4. Bill R.

    Dear Mr. Frazier,
    I believe this young man hit the lottery when you and Brenda decided to take him under your wings and mentor him but he tossed that opportunity like a used Kleenex. I say move-on and spend your time with someone who appreciates how lucky they are to have you and Brenda guiding them.

  5. Cicero

    I agree. There are thousands who need mentoring and you have the time and resources to mentor only a few. So let this one go and give another one, hopefully more appreciative, a chance.

  6. Cindy

    I’ll argue for another chance. Many kids in his situation fail deliberatively. They come to believe it better to act out before they get too close to someone, or before find out they can be successful at something. They believe they deserve to fail and to be rejected and set themselves up for it. Surprise him. Take him back, make him pay restitution (perhaps through work or by service to someone else) and try again. Not repeatedly, but once more.

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