World on Fire: One Community Loses a Shining Light

2010 is not beginning the way anyone would want their year to start.

For my community, the beginning of this year has been marked by pain and loss, sorrow and confusion.

On Monday we learned that a family from our neighborhood was missing. On Tuesday, we learned that the two children, a boy and girl in third and second grades, were in Virginia with relatives. Their father had dropped them off on Monday. On Wednesday, we learned that the mother was dead. Murdered by her husband.

Her name was Maureen. And I didn't know her. I had seen her at the school and at the pool. She was close to friends of mine. Yet, I am shaken to the core by this.

You see these stories on the news all the time. A father loses a job or has financial trouble or loses his mind for one reason or another and murders the whole family. Yet, reading about it on CNN is a hell of a lot different than experiencing it so close to home.

I can't stop thinking about it. I'm so worried about her children.

I picked up my son's ragged lovey yesterday, a dog named Uffie. And as I held him and smelled his dirty fur, all I could think was "Who will make sure Maureen's kids' lovies are preserved?" Who will treasure and hold on to the mementoes of their childhood? As if that even matters.

Their childhood is gone.

Shattered. Stolen.

By their father.

I am furious. And heartbroken.

And I am amazed by the things I have learned about Maureen. And sad I never knew her. She sounds amazing.

All of my friends who knew her and everyone who posted comments on her Facebook page has talked about how she encouraged them and helped them. They talk about her smile and laughter and quick wit and passion for life and family.

I wish I had known her.

Maybe that's why I'm so sad.

My community lost a vital member. Someone who was a vibrant life force who inspired others and made them believe in themselves. Someone who saw the joy to be had in life and embraced it.

I've certainly seen and been a part of my community coming together to support one of its own in quite meaningful ways. But the outpouring of love and emotion I've seen for Maureen has been astounding. I am thankful to be a part of this community, but I think we are lessened by the loss of Maureen and her children who will, I am sure, be going to live with relatives.

I hope we will all, even those of us who did not know her personally, honor Maureen by carrying something of her optimism and joy for life with us.

May she rest in peace.

Daddy's Gone to Knoxville

There's a great column by Roland S. Martin over on CNN.com. I don't think he's necessarily breaking any new ground with his statement that dads matter, but I think it's important that he's actually saying it aloud to a national audience because I think too many people are afraid of offending others to be honest about things like this.

Martin's piece focuses solely on the role of fathers in the African-American community. He addresses the fact that 10.4 percent of black men between 25 and 29 were incarcerated in 2002. And while he does acknowledge the role of poverty, he points out that (duh) when there are two parents providing financial support as well as love and guidance, you alleviate the effects of poverty. I mean, this should be obvious, but our nation and culture seems to have such an aversion to holding people accountable and calling individuals to accept personal responsibility for their actions.

Why are we so afraid to call people out when they're acting a fool, as Martin says.

I've made no bones about the fact that I grew up without a dad and in poverty, but somehow, through the grace of God, I got it together, relatively speaking. I focused on school and getting into college. I got lucky.

Anyway, Martin got me thinking (shocking, I know!). It's just not enough for a dad to simply sleep in the same home (when he's not traveling on business), hand out indulgent allowances, and never establish or enforce any kind of discipline or show any real affection or interest in their children.

In Alpharetta, one of Atlanta's countless affluent northern suburbs, six young men, ages 16 to 18, were arrested for breaking into and stealing cars and other items. These brats broke into at least 100 cars since Thanksgiving and police believe they are actually responsible for many more thefts. These aren't kids living in poverty. But I could almost guarantee that they have parents who are so consumed with their own lives and interests that they never take the time to show any meaningful interest in their kids. The homes in North Fulton probably average $400,000. I would wager that almost all of these kids have dads who are so caught up in earning their $250K a year salaries and moms so consumed with their ALTA schedules and Botox regimens that they never even see their kids. Kids, mind you, who probably never wanted for a single material possession in their lives. These are kids who get brand new cars when they turn 16, never hit a lick at a snake, and expect the world to be handed to them on a silver platter.

The thing is, now that they've fucked up, Daddy – and his expensive attorney – will be there. Just in time to keep poor baby from going to jail. Too bad they weren't around to teach their children about showing a little respect to their fellow human beings when it mattered.

So, it's not just African-American kids who need their fathers, although clearly the differences are crucial, the paths the lives of poor urban kids will follow vastly different than those followed by a bunch of poor little rich kids.

At least Roland Martin is courageous enough and willing to call for accountability among African-American men; I just wish someone would do the same with their rich white counterparts.