Connecting Good Causes With Good People

Project links Black professionals, groups looking to diversify leadership ranks

Sara Murray
The Arizona Republic
Jul. 12, 2007 12:00 AM

Carol Henry sits on the boards of the Phoenix Birthing Project and the Arizona Humanities Council, but those opportunities may not have happened if she hadn't first joined another Valley group.

She became involved in the Black Board of Directors Project last year.

The Phoenix-based organization, which counts more than 700 members, connected her with groups looking to add African-Americans to their leadership ranks.

"I feel like I'm bringing a different set of perspectives, and it's not only because I'm an African-American," said Henry, a director of marketing for Harrah's Entertainment.

While important strides have been made since the group was founded in 1984, leaders say they still must work to increase the number of African-American professionals, particularly within the ranks of local companies and non-profits.

"We want people to be involved in the total fabric of the community . . . not just be involved in the Black community," founder Marvin Perry said.

"Whether you're talking about art and culture, we want to be there. Whether you're talking about law and jurisprudence, we want to be there."

Perry founded the project when he noticed that companies wanted to diversify their boards but didn't know where to find suitable candidates.

"The problem was they all knew the same four or five individuals," he said.

He has helped place members on boards of non-profit organizations, corporations, and municipal, county, state and federal operations.

It can be a challenge. African-Americans make up a mere 3.1 percent of Arizona's population.

In 2000 for example, they comprised 2.3 percent of Arizona's workforce in management, business and financial, according to that year's U.S. census, the most recent data available.

They made up 2.3 percent of health care professionals and 2.6 percent of science, engineering and computer professionals.

Theressa Jackson, a member for about 20 years, was recently appointed chair of the Phoenix Women's Commission.

"When I go and tell folks I'm a member of the Black Board of Directors, I can't say enough for what that has meant for people I've tried to mentor," she said. "It can give you that support you need when you're trying to make upward mobility kind of steps."

More to do

Perry said one of his goals is to see an African-American on the Arizona Board of Regents and the board that heads the Arizona Department of Transportation.

Additionally, few Black Board members serve on corporate boards.

While Perry did not have an exact count of members on corporate boards, he said it was minimal.

The Black Board of Directors has been criticized for not putting enough African-Americans on the boards of the largest companies in the Valley.

"Any person of color, if you're going to make a major change in the corporate structure, you need to be where you can affect their policy," said Wilbert Nelson, president of the Arizona state chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

"I don't see the companies and corporate structure actually recruiting African-Americans for paid board positions. When it comes to really putting them in a position to impact policy, there's still a way to go."

George Dean, president and CEO of the Greater Phoenix Urban league, said corporate boards are significant because they hold a sense of prestige and influence that is unmatched by public and non-profit boards.

"They're . . . the policy makers for corporations, and corporations drive the economic engine that serves the economy," he said.

The challenge with placing African-Americans on corporate boards is that most board members are former company CEOs, Perry said.

African-Americans are not very prevalent in that pool.

Arizona counted 17,230 people serving as chief executives in 2000, according to census data. Only 105 of those were African-American, about 0.6 percent.

Those affiliated with Black Board aren't shying away from the task.

"To affect change, you have to be on the inside," Jackson said. "We tried it on the outside perspective when we were doing the marches and things in the civil rights era,and that only took us so far."

Jackson said she was a student at Van Buren Elementary School, one of the seven original test schools in Topeka, Kan., following the Brown vs. Board of Education ruling.

"It may be a slower process, but it took us all these years to get where we are, so it's not like we're going to be able to shoot a cannon and change things overnight," she said.

New Album, New Inspiration

We all know who Cliff Huxtable is, but did you know Clifford Harris is the name of a "gangsta rapper"? Atlanta-based rapper T.I. a.k.a. Clifford "Tip" Harris recently released his fifth studio album, T.I. vs. T.I.P. For the last five days, I've done nothing but listen to this album and write. Music is a major source of inspiration for me.

Some may wonder how a rap album can inspire me to write, especially when I'm working on a book that sets out to inspire African-American youths to pursue careers outside of the glam and fame they see on TV (and music videos). Let me say this: T.I. is more inspiring to me than the Huxtables.

Now don't get me wrong, T.I. was a drug dealer for many years before he found fame as a rapper and now actor (he starred in last year's ATL). However, what his story - and his predecessor Jay-Z's story - demonstrates is that opportunities are there to be had by historically and socio-economically disadvantaged youths.

Where the Huxtables and their stories were fictional (although perhaps based on happenings in real, affluent African-American households), T.I.'s story is very real. This is not to say that his lyrics aren't controversial nor are they worthy of a Pulitzer, but I don't think I'm the only under-25 African-American male who looks at T.I. and sees progress. And inspiration.

He rose from the streets through crime, but has now turned his focus to (legal) fields that utilize all of his talents. He's a highly-skilled rapper (been called "Jay-Z of the South"), a budding actor (next appears in American Gangster with Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe), a businessman (he is co-CEO of his label, Grand Hustle, and owns a real estate company), philanthropist (has helped rebuild dilapidated homes in his hometown), and pitchman (Chevy ads with NASCAR star Dale Earnhardt, Jr.).

T.I.'s story isn't quite Oprah Winfrey's story, but you can believe there are thousands - if not hundreds of thousands - of young black students across the country who connect more with his adolescent experiences. Just look at his Billboard ranking come Wednesday vs. Oprah's ratings (and who her target audience is) this week.

And this brings me to his new album, T.I. vs. T.I.P. It's his fifth album, and each of his previous albums have brought him more money and fame, but this is his first concept album. The concept behind the album is that "T.I." is the camera-ready, professional side of his personality and "T.I.P." is the street-taught, hustler-inspired side of him.

The inspiration in this is simple: you can be both. Too often, young black children see rappers as "real" and professionals as "sellouts". T.I.'s album is about the inner-struggle between those two. In that, I realize the fine line Louis and I must achieve with this book in order to connect with our target audience, which is young African-American students.

These students, especially those in inner-cities and impoverished areas, know more about T.I.'s experiences than those of the Huxtables. But through it all, we must showcase how people from T.I.'s neighborhood can succeed like people living like Cliff and Claire.

T.I. is still struggling to toe that line, but I am inspired by his attempt.

Michael Eric Dyson's new book on hip-hop

Michael Eric Dyson's new book, Know What I Mean: Reflections on Hip-Hop, hit stores this week. Buy a copy. If his reputation as the "hip-hop intellectual" or subject matter "hip-hop" don't intrigue you enough. How about you read the book's foreword by the best rapper alive: Jay-Z.

INTRO by Jay-Z

Michael Eric Dyson came up in the tough streets of Detroit. He didn’t grow up with silver spoons at the family table. His table didn’t have fine china and his path from then to now wasn’t clear of trouble and strife. He came up through the church and the world of academia in spite of his experience. Dyson confronted the same disadvantages that afflicted the folks in his neighborhood and that held so many brothers and sisters back. But these circumstances opened his mind to learning, and to a sense of justice that has driven him to succeed. Dyson could have been someone’s older brother on my block when I was coming up in the Marcy projects in Bed-Stuy. He could have been the teacher at a Baltimore high school who showed Tupac that there was power in knowledge and your people’s history.

Although he wasn’t there for either of us then, his preaching and his intellectual actions are there today for countless brothers and sisters, regardless of skin color, and regardless of who they pray to at night. He is there telling everyone who was born into a life that seems destitute and destined for failure that there is a way out. He is there reminding us all not to let our situation be an excuse when it can be a resource. Just as important, he is telling all of those countless people whose minds are closed by bigotry or contempt that hip hop is American. Blackness is American. I am American.

At this point it might seem hollow to repeat what has been widely said about Michael Eric Dyson: this gifted man is the “hip hop intellectual,” a world-class scholar, and the most brilliant interpreter of hip hop culture we have. But plain and simple that is what he is. He has shown those doubters and critics that hip hop is a vital arts movement created by young working-class men and women of color. Yes, our rhymes can contain violence and hatred. Yes, our songs can detail the drug business and our choruses can bounce with lustful intent. However, those things did not spring from inferior imaginations or deficient morals; these things came from our lives. They came from America.

The folks from the suburbs and the private schools so concerned with putting warning labels on my records missed the point. They never stopped to worry about the realities in this country that spread poverty and racism and gun violence and hatred of women and drug use and unemployment. People can act like rappers spread these things, but that is not true. Our lives are not rotten or worthless just because that’s what people say about the real estate that we were raised on. In fact, our lives may be even more worthy of study because we succeeded despite the promises of failure seeping out from behind the peeling paint on the walls of every apartment in every project.

Dyson came up from the bottom and told those on top what was up. He turned a light on our situation in this country and then he threw down a rope to lift us out. He started out translating between “us” and “them” and now he’s helping put together a world where there is only “us.” How many folk out there can talk about pimping in terms laid out by Hegel? Or use Kant to explain the way that prison fashion moved from the cellblock to the city block? Dyson drops the names of philosophers and scholars as easily as he does the names of artists on the latest mixtape moving dance floors in the clubs. Michael Eric Dyson has taken modern urban life seriously and brought the tools of so-called legitimate society to bear on a place that too many dismissed as unworthy of attention. Just by mentioning these cats in the same breath he levels a playing field that has always been tilted. He tore down the last “whites only” sign in the university and let all of us rush in to hear what the ancient teachers and scientists had to say.

Dyson stands up for poor folks and for street culture when other African Americans treat us with the same disdain that white society used to have for all of us. He continues to show us what the past can teach us about our present. It’s one thing for young people to see rappers making appearances on TRL or to see their records fly up the charts. But it is another thing for a young boy from the hood to go into the library at his school and check out a book on why his culture matters. Quite literally, Dyson has written that book. Money comes and goes, but respect can last for generations. Neither the IRS nor the changing taste of the public can take away what Michael Eric Dyson has given to hip hop: respect and a better way to understand ourselves.

We need more from you, Mike

LZ Granderson is one of my favorite sports columnist. Here's his latest offering on ESPN.com's Page 2.

I was walking down a busy Manhattan street the other day when I came across a large window display that caused me to do a double take.

It featured a dark-skinned brother promoting a new shoe for which a portion of its proceeds went to Project Red.

I paused because I thought the guy was Michael Jordan.

It wasn't.

The shoe was Converse, not Nike. But more importantly -- and more sadly -- I remembered that lending his face to something like Project Red, which addresses the AIDS epidemic in Africa, is not something Jordan is likely to do.

His Airness has always held a precarious place in my heart. My admiration for his passionate play is constantly at battle with my frustration for his apparent lack of passion for anything that doesn't benefit him.

When I think of the large cultural space he occupies -- even in retirement -- and the fact "Republicans buy sneakers too" remains his most memorable contribution to the political landscape, I am truly baffled that he can rest peacefully at night. I don't care if he's a Republican, Democrat or Libertarian. But while his iconic Nike labelmate, Lance Armstrong, has become synonymous with yellow wristbands and the cancer fight, MJ, who is far more influential, continues to steadfastly sidestep using his image for social change, even as it relates to issues of the global black community.

Silence about AIDS in Africa.

Silence during the Hurricane Katrina aftermath.

Silence in the fight against, well, just about anything.

Except slumping shoe sales.

Now some of you are thinking, "Haven't I read this criticism of Jordan before?" to which I say, "Yes, you probably have." Others are wondering, "Why does he have to do anything?" Let me answer that one too: He doesn't.

Nevertheless I bring this challenge up today because, one, the NBA is welcoming a new collection of young men with the potential to do great things, and two, I feel the black community needs a powerful voice such as Michael Jordan's now more than ever.

The U.S. Justice Department estimated six years ago that one in six black men were either in prison or ex-cons. Today the trend is approaching one in three. There are more black men in prison than there are in college, and those who are not in prison are having a significantly more difficult time finding employment than their white and Latino counterparts.

Growing up, people wanted to be like Mike, especially young black men. We shaved our heads, stuck our tongues out on the court and supported his apparel unconditionally. That's why three years into retirement he's still able to sell $250 shoes. Now that he's done playing, how about using those large hands to reach back as opposed to climbing up? How about some comparable reciprocity? I'm not suggesting coming out against the war in Iraq. But something as Q-rating safe as aggressively addressing the woes of inner-city education could go a long way to help the people who never hesitated to be there for him.

Before going any further, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that Jordan has done, and continues to do, a great deal of philanthropic work. I know that his mother, Deloris, is a tireless worker who has taken up such causes as helping to build a Boys and Girls Club in Chicago and providing aid to villages in Africa. I know these things because I looked it up. Of course finding the Jumpman logo took a lot less effort.

And that's why my love for Jordan is at odds with my disappointment. Hell, as far as I know, he might have been instrumental in getting Chuck Taylors involved with Project Red behind closed doors, seeing how Nike owns Converse. But the black community persevered through years of oppression by relying on the sacrifices of the nameless and the talents and resources of our mythical figures. We may not be facing the same civil rights obstacles that prompted Muhammad Ali and Harry Belafonte to speak out, but the community is in no less need of a visible rallying voice.

One with enough clout and respect that he could call up a Pacman Jones or Tank Johnson and tell him to stop acting like a fool. And maybe he has. I don't know. But what I do know is that 20 years ago we were not afraid to look after each other's children, share food, or, if need be, check each other for the sake of the community. But now that the fire hoses have been turned off, we've grown content to look after self. And that's what MJ appears to be doing -- looking after self. I don't know if he shares my political views, but black-on-black crime isn't just action. Sometimes it's inaction, and to paraphrase Dr. King, one day we're going to have to repent for it.

And I'm just as guilty as anyone else. Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by the ills that plague our society in general, and my community specifically, I become paralyzed by the enormity of it all -- opting to send a faceless check to some organization rather than roll my sleeves up to fight a war that I'm not sure can be won.

Maybe that's why MJ, the man who hates to lose, is unwilling to get his name more involved. He knows "Jordan" can sell shoes. He's not sure "Jordan" can save the world. Or maybe Jordan just doesn't care as much as I, or perhaps many of you, had hoped. A disappointing possibility, for sure. It would be as if Superman spent his time pushing T-shirts with an "S" on them instead of saving lives.

When I spoke with a number of black athletes about philanthropy and the black community, they were reluctant to call MJ out. And really I wasn't looking for them to do so. The fact that no one could tell me anything about him that didn't have to do with Nike or basketball said it all.

"Jordan's still the most influential athlete in the world in my opinion, so yeah, whatever he does is going to draw a lot of attention," says New York Jets linebacker Jonathan Vilma. "I'm not disappointed he's not more visible in terms of causes and things like that because everybody has to decide what's best for them. I just try to focus on doing everything I feel I can do to help those less fortunate."

Josh Childress of the Atlanta Hawks agreed.

"True, he doesn't use his celebrity as much as he could but maybe he just wants to stay under the radar, who knows?" says Childress, who routinely works with underprivileged children. "Growing up, people did strive to be like Jordan, and yeah, if he did something really big to fight prostate cancer or something like that, a lot of guys would support him just because it's Mike."

Warrick Dunn, whose Home for the Holidays program is one of the most inspirational projects spearheaded by any athlete, says he finds being in a position to use his name to give back is an honor.

"Michael is the greatest athlete of our generation," says Dunn, the Atlanta Falcons running back. "I'm sure he's done a lot, and he could probably do more with his fame. But at the same time he's just one man and you have to ask, 'How much can one man do?' I mean, every professional athlete can do something to make the world better."

Like Tiki Barber, who one day strolled into the office of Newark Mayor Cory Booker and asked what he could do to help. It's that kind of gesture Booker says he focuses on, more than what others are not doing.

"I've always tried to live my life by the basic principle my parents taught me from the Bible," Booker says. "To he much is given, much is required.

"I cannot discount the inspirational power of just seeing Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods achieve athletic greatness and the positive effect it has on the black community. But while it's true we live in a free democracy, we have to understand this democracy was born out of incredible self-sacrifice. It wasn't even a generation ago that you saw the extreme sacrifices made by people whose names we don't even know. Now we're in a state of crisis, and black athletes can help change that. The call is out there, but I can't be frustrated by those who don't answer the call."

But I can.

In 2005, we cheered Kanye West for saying George Bush didn't care about black people after he bungled Katrina relief efforts. Yet less than two years later we're wondering whether New Orleans is going to have enough police to contain all the violence and ghettofabulousness for next year's NBA All-Star Game. With disconnects like that, who needs the KKK? We're eliminating ourselves from the equation, and it seems as if our elite are too busy to care. I now understand what Marvin Gaye meant when he said "It makes me wanna holler and throw up both my hands."

I wonder if Jordan is ready to holler yet.

And if so, why can't we hear him?

LZ Granderson is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine and host of the ESPN360 talk show "Game Night." He can be reached at l_granderson@yahoo.com.

Education through Refutation, Introducing Louis

The great thing about having a co-author is not to have an extra person to write half the book, but to have someone to think with the other side of the book's brain. In other words, having a co-author ensures the book isn't written with only one side of the issue, topic or argument in mind. Friends and colleagues, the long-awaited arrival of Dr. Louis Harrison to this blog. Read on...

"The points you made are similar to those of (Bill) Cosby. While I don't disagree that African-American parents of kids who use this kind of language lie at the heart of this problem. It is often easy to point fingers at the cause of our problems, but this doesn't give rise to solutions.

Okay, so it's true that some kids have parents who are less than desirable (to put it lightly). These kids, through no fault of their own grow up in a less than desirable environment and can only function in ways and exhibit behaviors that they have experienced. If those of us who have made it out, or were fortunate to have never been in such an environment, simply disengage, these young people may never have an opportunity to realize that there is a better way to express themselves. If all they experience is deficient parenting, deficient schooling, and are perceived as deficient by the larger society, there is little chance for climbing out of a deficient and dysfunctional environment.

Let’s point the fingers in all directions, not just at parents. Let’s point at a society that will send its least prepared and least successful teachers to inner city schools upon which they spend the least money. Let’s point fingers at an entertainment industry that promotes and glorifies those who spew the negative language into African-American communities, while those who's rap lyrics promote positive messages are virtually ignored. Let's point fingers at a society that will immediately cheer on a successful African-American athlete while minimizing the accomplishments of African-American scholars, businessmen, attorneys, engineers, teachers, physicians, ...

Let's point the finger at us, middle-class African Americans who look upon poor African Americans with disdain when we ourselves are only a generation or two (or a paycheck or two) away from poverty. Let's point the finger at a society that operates as if racism no longer exists and points to African -merican athletes as evidence of equal access to the American dream. Let's point a finger at a society that tells young African-American kids that everything about them, their color, their language, their attire, their hairstyle, their music, their home environment, their values, their perspective on life,... it's all wrong, its all negative; and that they must assimilate (act white) to be acceptable.

Let's stop pointing fingers only at impotent parents and start reaching a hand to their children, even if they don't want your hand. Let's give these young people a chance to see that there is a better way to live, that there is hope if their dreams are given direction, that there are opportunities if they prepare themselves. I know this to be true because I am here.

Thank God you were raised in a positive environment. Others of us have not been so fortunate. Nothing personal, just my two cents."

-Louis Harrison, Ph.D.

Three points and two pennies

Ebony magazine's current issue has a pretty bold cover (above). I haven't read the article completely, but I do know one of its lines read: "This whole thing started with three words. “Nappy-Headed Hos.'"

Now, my question is this? Did we really wait until 2007 and a guy named Don Imus to have a candid discussion about race, vernacular and "the culture of disrespect"? Why did we wait so long? Was it because it wasn't front-page news until Imus said it? Was it because Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton were on primetime news doing interviews? Was it because it was about the women's basketball team of Rutgers University? Was it because rappers like 50 Cent are famous for songs that include similar phrases?

I can't really answer those questions. All I can do is offer my two cents.

Personally, I think there are three problems with the topic that we're only just now beginning to be honest and frank about within the African-American community.

The first problem is parenting. Just as African-American parents should encourage their children to perform in the classroom (and their respective athletie or artistic endeavor), parents must encourage their children to surround themselves with good people. I have never used the n-word or the derogatory terms for females commonly stated in songs by rappers when addressing any individual, man or woman. The reason? Because I've never been arund anyone who would tolerate those types of words coming out of my mouth.

That said, parents must try to educate their children on the importance of being around good like-minded people. They must also practice what they preach. Just as you wouldn't want to put your child in a room filled with smoke, you shouldn't put your child in a room of foul-mouthed adults.

The second problem is about pop culture and the overly-emphasized role it has in the African-American community in particular. It is not uncommon for a young black student to recite the lines of rapper 50 Cent or know the best scoring move of Kobe Bryant, yet not know enough to make a passing grade in the classroom. There is nothing wrong with enjoying rap music or basketball. There is something wrong with not enjoying school enough to make it to the next grade.

Again, parents play an instrumental role in making sure children prioritize their lives. Educators, and administrators, must also understand the role of pop culture on these young students and find new, innovative ways to inspire students to seek the same wealth and professional success as the people they see on television, only through the education.

Lastly, the problem is with blame. Too often, we seek to blame before we seek to understand. What does Stephen Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People tell us? "Seek first to understand, then to be understood." Exactly. In order to make the Don Imus' of the world understand, completely, why they can and should never be allowed to say the derogatory things they sometimes say (or want to say), we must - as an African-American community - understand why we have allowed these words to be said within our own community. Our music. Our streets. Our schoolrooms. Our homes.

Before we can blame, we must listen. By listening, I believe we can really move the needle forward to a day when children can listen to 50 Cent's lyrics without using that negative, derogatory language themselves.

But that's just my 50, I mean two, cent.

Journalist following path of Civil Rights leaders

My friend Kevin put me up on a talented, Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for the Miami Herald. Here, that man - Leonard Pitts - shares a recent story and run-in with some people who definitely won't fit into the target audience for Real Role Models. But I sure hope their children pick up the book someday.

RACISM

Neo-Nutsies bring frustration, anger -- and joy

By LEONARD PITTS JR.

So, what's going on with you? Nothing much? Wish I could say the same.

As you may know if you've seen CNN or read the paper, yours truly has lately been the target of death threats and harassment from the ranks of the not-so-tightly-wrapped. This, after a June 3 column about the torture murder of a young white couple, allegedly by four African Americans. My column took on white supremacists and far right bloggers who contend that this ''genocide'' -- their word -- goes unremarked by news media too PC to report black-on-white crime.

It was an argument made for ridiculing and I did my best, pointing out that black-on-white crime, a relative statistical rarity, is not underreported but, in fact, over-reported, according to any number of studies and experts. This offended a self-professed neo-Nazi leader whose name you won't read here. So he got on his little neo-Nutsy website and posted my home address and phone number. It's been game on ever since -- 400 e-mails, dozens of phone calls, leaflets on my neighbor's driveway.

''You should be back in a damn mud and dung hut you nappy headed ho''. . .''Who's crying now, you affirmative action ape?''. . . and etcetera. The gist of this outburst: a handful of contentions, each more asinine than the last:

• Pitts has no compassion for the victims. (I called the murders brutal and a tragedy and said the killers should rot under the jailhouse.)

• Pitts told those mourning the murders to ``cry me a river.''(I gave that advice specifically to white supremacists yelling genocide and other stupid things.)

• The murders were so heinous they were ''obviously'' a hate crime. (Actually, heinousness has nothing to do with it. Hate crime penalties come into play when the prosecutor can establish racial or religious bias as a motive, period.)

It turns out this tactic -- publishing private information for intimidation purposes -- is one these folks use frequently to silence those with whom they disagree. Which only deepens my appreciation for the sheer guts it took to be a Fred Shuttlesworth in Birmingham or a Medgar Evers in Jackson, speaking truth to power in a time and place where everyone knew your address, assassinations were common and you could not go to law enforcement because they were part of the problem. I'm not comparing myself to those civil rights icons. I am saying that like them, we shall not be moved.

I pity the Neo-Nutsies. How impotent they must feel. How frightened and small. So they console themselves with these delusions of inherent superiority.

I grew up in the slums of L.A. and started college at 15. I won the Pulitzer Prize in 2004 and have been married to the same woman for 26 years. I'm also kind to children and play a mean game of Scrabble. So I wonder: What do these people think they have accomplished in life that makes them my better? Do they really think it's enough to have less melanin in their skin?

The Neo-Nutsies have been responsible for frustration and anger these last days. They've also been responsible for joy. Thanks to them, I've received a tidal wave of ''hang in there'' and ''we care about you'' and ''what can we do to help'' from colleagues, readers, friends and strangers all over the country. People have volunteered to guard my front door. A self-described ''big ole white guy'' I've interviewed a couple times called from Louisiana to say he had my back. Contributions have been made in my name to the Southern Poverty Law Center. Credit the Nutsies for that.

I feel a little like Jimmy Stewart in It's a Wonderful Life. They say you can tell who a man is by looking at his friends. Which is true. But I believe you can also tell by looking at his enemies. Apparently, I have managed to make enemies of haters, bigots and other low, pathetic men.

I must be doing something right.

Multi-Tasking or Multi-Millions?

There's a really good story about thespian Don Cheadle (Hotel Rwanda, Crash) in this month's issue of GQ magazine. In it, the writer discusses with Cheadle how and why he has remained out of the spotlight and, subsequently, out of the $10-to-20-million-per-picture salary range of his African-American counterparts like Will Smith and Denzel Washington. Even though many consider Cheadle's acting chops equally marvelous.

Cheadle, in short, believes actors - and for that matter, any professional - make money by doing the same thing over and over again. Tom Cruise, whether he's in Cold-War-inspired Top Gun or the alien-infused War of the Worlds, is almost always the same guy on screen. Same thing with Denzel, who's Deja Vu character isn't all that different from his Inside Man character. Cheadle, on the other hand, has tackled roles opposite Denzel (Devil with a Blue Dress), George Clooney and Brad Pitt (Ocean's 11, 12, and 13), starred in Oscar-winners (Crash, Traffic) with star-studded casts, while also taking on starring projects in Hotel Rwanda and the upcoming film about a D.C.-'70s Era Radio personality in Talk to Me opposite Cedric the Entertainer and Chiwetel Ejiofor, who was also in Inside Man and will again be paired with Denzel in this year's American Gangster.

Cheadle doesn't do typical. He doesn't do safe. Cheadle is all about range. Similarly, there are some notable African-Americans whom have made both millions and careers in spreading themselves into various roles and/or fields. Will Smith went from Grammys to Oscar nominations, Jay-Z has gone from The Blueprint to the boardroom of Def Jam, and Oprah has done everything from producing her own hit TV show to a Broadway production to her own magazine and book club. Still, there are others who have been successful with range in their careers.

There are corporate executives and government officials turned authors and nonprofit managers. There are athletes turned agents and actors. There are entrepreneurs turned educators, and vice versa. There are so many out there. Unfortunately, there are so many unknowns.

Real Role Models will hopefully help uncover their stories of risk-taking and endless ambition and ceaseless drive. Then Cheadle won't have to feel like a loner.

Take Credit for Tiger Woods, And Who Else?

I'm not sure what the specific fraction is, but I believe Tiger Woods is less than one-third African-American. Somehow this has escaped the African-American community when taking credit for his major accomplishments (this weekend he finished second in the U.S. Open; he's finished 1-1-2-2 in the last four majors).

If we're willing to take credit for Woods' historic feats (as we did when he stormed the scene by winning the '97 Master's), why not take credit for those of other African-Americans?

Case in point, Condoleezza Rice. She started out in the Deep South like other notable African-Americans, Oprah Winfrey and Martin Luther King, Jr. The daughter of a minister and teacher, both faith and education were important aspects of Rice's childhood and sense of duty. Eventually, her family moved to Denver where she would go on to receive her B.A. in political science (Phi Beta Kappa honors) from the University of Denver. After picking up a Master's in poly sci from Notre Dame, she returned to Denver to secure a Ph.D. in international studies.

Dr. Rice then went on to serve in various capacities in government and higher education, including rising from assistant professor to Provost at Stanford University, where she became the school's youngest and first minority leader and helped turn around a $20 million budget shortfall into a nearly $15 million surplus in just a couple years on the job.

Simultaneously, Dr. Rice became one of America's foremost experts on the Soviet Union and German reunification (after the fall of the Berlin Wall), which helped her become a trusted international affairs and national security adviser to President George H.W. Bush, who also appointed another African-American-Colin Powell (previously served as National Security Advisor to Ronald Reagan)-as the first black Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during the successful Gulf War.

When Powell was named the nation's first African-American Secretary of State by President George W. Bush in 2001, Dr. Rice was quickly named National Security Advisor. Four years later, she's followed in Powell's shoes as the nation's second-ever black or female Secretary of State. Pretty impressive if you ask me.

And aside from the Middle East policies that have conflicted the nation, Secretary Rice has earned the praise of several around the world for her commitment to Africa (see this month's issue of Vanity Fair for evidence) including her contributions as chair of the Millenium Challenge Corporation which provides much-need aid to dozens of countries around the world, including Ghana and Uganda. Even U2 frontman Bono gives her and her boss credit for upping America's commitment to improving Africa.

But even while Secretary Rice is considered one of the world's most influential and powerful individuals (both Time and Forbes magazine agree), her status and contributions are minimized by the African-American community in comparison to people like Woods and Oprah Winfrey.

Perhaps its because she's a Republican. Perhaps its because we're more familiar with successful African-Americans in sports and entertainment, but not-so-much in politics. Regardless, the first step to appreciating real role modes in the African-American community is to acknowledge them and their contributions.

Some of these role models may not have the prestige of being the Secretary of State or even being a professional athlete, but I'm sure they're worthy of our recognition just the same.

Lucky or Smart

There's a book called Lucky or Smart that I recommend every aspiring entrepreneur read. In it, author Bo Peabody recounts his story from 19-year-old college student to multi-millionaire businessman.

But the best part about the story isn't Peabody's personal story, it's his underlying message: There is a difference between being lucky and being smart, but you can be smart enough to create your own luck.

There are plenty of stories that come to mind when I think of African-American entrepreneurs who have struck gold with a mix of smarts and luck.

Will Smith, then a Grammy-winning rapper, luckily met a young Hollywood writer named Barry Medina and the two collaborated on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, which launched Smith's acting career. Now, he's one of Hollywood's highest paid actors.

Sean Combs started out as an intern for Uptown Records, which had recently signed a young R&B singer named Mary J. Blige. He dropped out of Howard University and less than two years later, Combs was one of Uptown's executives and helped launched Blige's Grammy-winning and multi-platinum selling career.

Bob Johnson had an idea for a television station geared directly to African Americans in the late '70s. Eleven years later, BET became the first black-owned company listed on the New York Stock Exchange and a decade later he became America's first black billionaire. He's also the only African-American to own a major professional sports team, Charlotte Bobcats.

Obviously these men all worked hard to create their success, but you can certainly bet they also had their share of luck.

These men didn't have to read Peabody's book to garner their millions and fame, but I'm sure they'd agree that it's important to "put yourself in a position to get lucky, create the right situations for success, and take advantage of every opportunity."

That said, while we have great examples of African-American entrepreneurs striking it big in entertainment, music, and sports, I hope our readers can gain similar appreciation for the entrepreneurs and businessmen and women who will be profiled in Real Role Models.

Jump the gun and you'll get disqualified

If you're familiar with track and field, you know that there's a pretty standard rule for any racing event: If you jump the gun, you'll get disqualified.

After two Democratic presidential debates - the first in April in Orangeburg, South Carolina, and the second in Goffstown, New Hampshire this past Sunday - I wondered if African-Americans were already jumping the gun on their political support.

Case in point, Orangeburg is a city made up of 67.5 percent blacks while Goffstown has a mere 0.3 percent. Also of importance, the median household income is $25,000 more in Goffstown than Orangeburg. And Orangeburg's crime rate is some seven times higher than Goffstown's. All that before even getting into the education gap between the two.

But you would think none of this matters when you realize even the poorest blacks in South Carolina support the same frontrunners - Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John Edwards - as the wealthier, better educated, healthier, safer New Englanders.

What does this say about the African-Americans in Orangeburg - and throughout the country since places like Oakland, California and East St. Louis (both homes to some of the worst crime rates in America) share voting histories with places like Cambridge, Massachusetts (home to Harvard and MIT) and Montgomery County, Maryland (one of America's weathiest counties) - when we vote identically to people who hardly ever share our life experiences?

This is not to say that poor voters and rich voters must be different or Ph.D voters and G.E.D. voters must be separate. This is simply to say just as wealthy and well-educated voters consider the issues such as candidate's positions on taxes, healthcare and foreign policy, the African-American community must take into account these same, and other, important issues.

For the first time in modern history we don't have an incumbent President or Vice President running for the office. If you haven't noticed, both the Democrat and Republican debates have been flooded with ten candidates each thus far.

That said, the African-American voting public has an opportunity to truly weigh in on this coming election by being active and vocal about what it is we want. We may want better schools, as I'm sure those Orangeburg residents would say, or we may want better healthcare as I'm sure everyone would say or we may want less crime as I'm sure Southside Chicago residents would say.

Regardless of what it is 'we' want, it's important to take a step back from tradition...a tradition that says whoever the Democratic frontrunner is - be it Clinton or Obama or Edwards - that's the candidate we support.

Instead, African-Americans must realize the unique nature of the 2008 election. This is an opportunity to sit back and wait for the race to start before we announce the winner.

Because if we try to win too soon, we may get disqualified from the political process altogether.

Leadership goes beyond Lebron

I'm an avid sports fan. I've subscribed to Sports Illustrated for almost ten years. I fully realize that SI has an increased interest in showcasing major sporting events as the end-all, be-all and lionizing its heroes as bigger than any other humans on the planet.

This is exactly what has happened after last night's jaw-dropping performance by NBA superstar Lebron James, who scored 25 consecutive points to lead the Cleveland Cavaliers over the Detroit Pistons in game five of the Eastern Conference Finals. If the Cavs win game six, they'll advance to the team's first-ever NBA Finals.

But I had to pause when I read a column by SI contributor Paul Forrester who wrote, "how many 22-year-olds have ever taken their team this far with this much responsibility?"

I can think of some 22-year-old Army lieutenants and single mothers who have sure led their "teams" to much higher places and with greater responsibility on their shoulders.

Case in point, by the time my mother was 22 years old, she had three boys whom she was basically raising on her own (my father left us around that time). Similarly, my best friend was just commissioned as an Army officer at 22 years of age, and not long thereafter was leading a platoon in Iraq's IED-loaded fields.

While my mother is black, my best friend is actually white, but that's neither here nor there. What's important is to understand that leadership and responsibility goes far beyond the basketball court.

Michael Jordan accomplished great feats against the Utah Jazz, Detroit Pistons and New York Knicks, but my mother certainly accomplished much more by raising three boys into men from such a young age. And my best friend is preparing another group of young men for another tour in Iraq.

Talk about leadership and responsibility.

So the next time I hear a journalist talk about the accomplishments of a 22-year-old, I hope it's a story about a single parent putting food on the table or a military officer bringing his soldiers back home.

Because those "teams" are far more important than anything the NBA Finals can match.