Preface
My clock was ticking faster than I
realized. Death was imminent. So blinded was I by my determination to finish my
fourteenth marathon that I mistook the tightness in my chest as an ill-fitting
T-shirt. In 2004, more than a decade after retiring from a nine-year career in
the NFL, I ran what became my last marathon. I had taken up running as a way to
de-stress. Turns out, it almost kil ed me.
I had hit the mythical twenty-mile wal
that all marathoners know about, when my shirt suddenly felt like it was crushing
my chest and torso. The cool January morning air in Houston did little to ease
the discomfort, but I finished the race. After finding the courage to tel my
wife what was going on with me, I found myself sitting in the doctor’s office.
Although I did not suffer a heart attack, tests revealed that my left anterior
descending artery was ninety-seven percent blocked, a condition commonly known
as the widow maker. Thankful y, my Creator knew my work here was unfinished.
From that moment, my lifelong tendency to show up smal and play it safe melted
away and
catapulted me with unwavering certainty
towards a future I was being led to create, not for myself, but for humanity.
Marathon 2009
Up to that point I had been running from
my dark past towards a future I thought had been predetermined to bring light
to others through me, an unlikely messenger. I have been the underdog most of
my life—from suffering with tuberculosis as a kid to being rejected by my
middle school football team—
but I found ways to deal with it. What I
learned from failure and rejection is that they’re just part of the process
that leads to success. There is a parable in the Bible that I relate to—the
parable of the prodigal son. It’s a testament to my life journey, but more
important, it is a tale about a life of redemption. In my case,
that redemption has resulted in my gratitude for having a second chance.
Each life has a coding that gets revealed
over time. At some point, you develop the need to understand your reason for
being. Asking, “Why do I exist and what exists beyond the world we know?”
consistently throughout your life has the amazing result of leading you to
discover your purpose during your time here on Earth. It is not enough to know
what your purpose is; you have to use that knowledge because your purpose is
inextricably linked to your vision for the future, and that vision defines your
success.
My life has been a series of events you
wouldn’t think would be experienced in the lifetime of a kid who, until age
eighteen, rarely ventured outside of my four-block neighborhood in uptown New
Orleans, Louisiana. I witnessed all kinds of nefarious activity as a kid, most
of it involving violence, which was far too prevalent in my young life. I knew
it was bad, yet I was drawn to it, curious about what it could do for me,
unafraid of the consequences. I thought I could handle it all and would always
be in the winner’s seat. I reasoned that my street smarts and my buddies would
get me through any situation. I knew the elders within my tight-knit family
expected the best of me. They tried to shelter me from the foolishness of the
streets as best they could. But stil , I fel into the hole. On the one hand, I
was a good kid from a decent and respected family. On the other hand, I yearned
for the dark, greedy side. That dual existence put me on the road to
destruction and caused my parents more headaches than I’ll ever know.
Most of us have only about twenty years
of childhood and adolescence before we are considered adults. I lived most of those early years in total darkness. I felt abandoned, cut off,
and isolated, in part due to my personality, and partly due to the environment
I lived in. The spirits of my ancestors watched over me through the violence
and trauma I witnessed, but I didn’t know that then. The truth is that, in the
not-so-distant past, a multitude of poor souls who bore the same blood as I do
found themselves in the bel y of a slave ship. They held out with the hope that
someone like me would show up one day and not waste the sacrifice of their
captive life for a moment of self-serving opportunity. Despite my misdirected
behavior, they helped guide me back to my Creator on a fateful December night.
From the moment of that spiritual awakening, opportunities were presented to me
like Christmas presents. I didn’t take time to investigate them because they
came wrapped in packaging that resembled books and magazines that were easy to
ignore. I was a misguided warrior, uninterested in the pursuit of knowledge. Later,
those Christmas gifts became precious items that ignited my journey to unearth
my purpose, my journey of walking in the shadow of footsteps.
As a kid, I always felt something was
guiding my life and watching over me. In an unconscious way, that truth led me
out of my adolescent confusion. Because of that, I feel a responsibility to my
ancestors to make this world better by my presence here. Since someone was able
to hold on and hold out in hopes that I would show up, I’ve done the same, and
when I’m gone, my life wil be part of the continuum of the journey started
generations ago. In everything I have done and been through, and in the work I
do now, I realize the result is bigger than me.
We are taught in the
Western Hemisphere to think about self first. We pride ourselves on being
“self-made,” but no one truly reaches the destination of success alone. In
other cultures and communities, it is about the whole, not the parts, the
group, not the individuals, because within the group there is power. But power
is not for self-aggrandizement. Power, instead, should be used to uplift the
lowly, to shed light on the darkness, and to make right the wrongs inflicted
upon the least of us. That can be seen clearly in this current moment, when a
bridge between the old and the new way of leading change in our communities is
at a desperate intersection. In fact, change and transition are a continuum,
not a destination. From the Underground Railroad to the Civil Rights Movement
to Black Lives Matter, I celebrate and honor all the advances made to further
the causes of Black people, those living in poverty, and other rejected
populations.
Yet, the voices of the ancestors are cal
ing for humanity to rise up and tap into our better angels. I accept the cal .
When Michael Brown was kil ed in
Ferguson, Missouri, in 2014, the people in that community protested for almost
four hundred days. They brought light to the long-standing reality of Black men
and boys being kil ed by police and the predictable and frustrating result of no
charges being filed against the police officers. Their voices shed light on the
disproportionate representation of white people in positions of power within
local governments making decisions for majority Black populations.
Eventually, the protests died down, the
media pivoted away from it, and the rest of the country went back to business
as usual, but CORE (Community Organized Relief Effort) and Black Lives Matter
were committed. They worked behind the scenes to make change happen. The
message of Black Lives Matter took off and gained global
attention again in 2020 when the entire world was shut down and people all over
the world were cooped up because of COVID-19. Stuck at home, they weren’t
distracted by all the other news and entertainment. At that time, they were
antsy for something to do.
When all the entertainment, sports, and
other titil ating diversions were removed, people were forced to look in the
mirror. By the summer of that year, they were at the starting line, ready for
something to pounce on. They got it with the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, George
Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Rayshard Brooks. That’s when the explosion happened
and people got “woke.” I hope the modern-day movement towards
civil and human rights has built the bandwidth to sustain its voice and its
power. My fear is that the objectives of the protests become lost in the
predictable apathy that engulfs a society in the aftermath of civil unrest. To
prevent that kind of destructive outcome, people have to be wil ing to fight
for their own liberation. As history has demonstrated, the fight for equality
is an emotional endeavor that can be heart-rending and depressing. It takes a
concerted effort and a level of dedication and longsuffering to see that
commitment to fruition. Those who are in the fight from a righteous standpoint
cannot concede. They must prevail.
My role in this modern-day movement is to
build an institution to be a positive influence in the community. That’s what
Pro-Vision represents. I don’t have an overwhelming need to be heard, and I
definitely do not need to be put on a pedestal or receive any accolades. But if
somebody seeks me out and thinks I can add value to the discussion, I’ll do
what I can to make an impact. As the old folks say, “Talk is cheap.” Actions speak
louder than words when the conversation is about community
enhancement and furthering the footprint of Black and disenfranchised people in
this world. My goal is to fol ow through on the rhetoric and take action
towards true, lasting, empowering change.
Realizing my purpose was the beginning of
my journey, the wake up. Living out my purpose has been a continuous process to
clean up, stand up, and show up, resulting in enlightenment for me. The journey
has not been easy, but it has been worth every step and misstep. Along the way,
I have transcended my environment and become an active vessel of change for
others.
Taking agency back over my life has
allowed me to put into perspective who I am, what I am, and what I should be
doing with my time here on earth.
My life has been like that of the
prodigal son. I’ve experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have left
home, enjoyed the pleasures of life, found myself in a lowly state, and then
realized my ancestors and my Creator had more in store for me. Thankful y, I
found my way back home, back to myself.
This reflection of my life is a snapshot
of that journey.
Fourth-grade play. Me with younger brother,
Brian Young
