Can a woman raise a boy into a proper man?

The other morning while I was on my way to school. My usual morning routine and route. I was in a rush to French class because I had a midterm combined with a final this morning in particular. Well, while walking out of my development and onto the street, I passed a familiar thing. The food cart, the highlight of most people's mornings around here, their first morning encounter and interaction.

While passing it, or just about to. I stumbled across something I initially thought was odd. It appeared to be a woman chanting or mumbling to herself. How odd and unusual I thought to myself. Perhaps, maybe not too unusual though me residing in New York City. As a resident here for the past 23 years I've seen much worse.

I quickly realized though how wrong I was. This woman was not just another "Wacko New Yorker" she was a woman on a mission. When I looked closely at her I noticed that I had completely ignored the small, impressionable, young body next to hers. So small in stature, so innocent, vulnerable,

I tried to envision their circumstance. Where his actual parents, biological parents were. I stereotyped for a second. My mind pondered. Being that this is New York City Housing Projects perhaps they had succumbed to crack addiction, gang violence, just more victims of double consciousness. Maybe they were very young parents, unfit to raise a tender soul like him.

But maybe it was different. Maybe just maybe this little boy's parents didn't quite fit the stereotype. Perhaps they were hard-working, business owners, college-educated, who died in a freak car accident or something. One may never know, so one can only assume.

Maybe she was a foster parent and had no biological relation to the boy. Maybe grandma was just a nickname because he was too young to grasp the concept of being in foster care. The bitter, harsh reality. His unfortunate fate.

Being labeled as not capable of succeeding. Not only due to his circumstance of having no parents. But a circumstance of his birth. The fact that he was born a black male. The sad reality is that hopes are never high for our men. No associations with positivity only negativity.

But even so, it was as if this grandmother was determined to detour this little boy from a life of stereotype. He was gong to be different, Perhaps, different from his parents. Not defined by where he lived. He was going to beat the odds and rise up against the low expectations. You see, not only was he Black but he was residing in public housing. Affected my poverty, living in it.