If you look closely at the decline of African-American participation in the sport, you will see what I see. The decline is a social justice issue that cannot be solved until we view it through that lens.

The issue is something that is near and dear to my heart. When I challenge white college coaches about not having as many African-American players as others on their rosters, many say their edict is to recruit the best players in order to win.

C.J. Stewart with youth in the Northwest Atlanta neighborhood that he grew up in. Photo by Eriel Dunnam.

“Quality leaders recognize that life is pretty much about managing expectations— their own expectations and those of others. People can handle significant challenges—as long as they align with their expectations. Any time hardship fails to align with expectations, however, we can expect trouble.”
Dr. Tim Elmore

I have been the Chief Empowerment Officer for LEAD for 11 years and we partner with Atlanta Public Schools to empower an at-risk generation to lead and transform their city of Atlanta. LEAD Scouts The Counted Out. We use baseball as a vehicle to help youth black males overcome crime, poverty and racism. The over 350 student-athletes grades 6th through 12th that we serve earn the opportunity to become empowered by LEAD with the ABC’S …

John Phillips

I cannot hide my anger to spare you guilt, nor hurt feelings, nor answering anger; for to do so insults and trivializes all our efforts. Guilt is not a response to anger; it is a response to one’s own actions or lack of action. If it leads to change then it can be useful, since it is then no longer guilt but the beginning of knowledge.
Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches

Change in Atlanta needs a name and it must start with passion. The Latin word for passion is suffering. A person cannot be passionate about a certain issue unless they first have experienced suffering centered around that issue. I am passionate about the well-being of marginalized people. Why? Because I have experienced their suffering first hand, felt the brokenness, seen the shame.

As a child being raised in the inner city of Atlanta, I was blessed to be raised with my mother and father in the household. My parents masked our poverty with nice clothes, proper grammar and social events like the Nutcracker.

My parents were hardworking striving to do good while living in the hood. Episodes of the Cosby Show and sleepovers at my white teammates houses when I was a teenager caused me to realize that my family wasn’t as financially successful as I thought that we were. I was embarrassed when my teammates would pick me up from our small house in Bankhead when I should have been appreciative that I had a home.

I’m happiest when marginalized people become the best version of themselves. When they don’t feel like outsiders, but are experiencing acceptance and opportunity, lifted to their rightful dignity of a being a beloved son or daughter of God. My journey from suffering to dignity to passion started over ten years ago. I grew tired of being selfish, pessimistic, arrogant and gave my life to Christ Jesus.

“But perhaps the most important difference of all and the one most dangerous to the American ideal of equal opportunity is in how we raise our kids. In the modern economy, human capital has become vital to success. The most educated and affluent parents got the memo. Upper middle class families have become green houses for cultivation of human capital. Children raised in them are on a different track than ordinary Americans right from the very beginning.”
Richard V. Reeves

Just like the minor leagues prepares professional baseball players for the Majors, so too must mentorship lead to sponsorship to prepare black youth for life.

My childhood dream was to become a rich Major League Baseball player for the Chicago Cubs. I wanted the cars and fame but lacked the character to make it a reality. I was selfish as a child and teen. My dreams did not include helping anyone but myself. I did get to play for the Cubs, though never made it to the Majors. After returning home, my wife Kelli and I founded a business, Diamond Directors, that provides top athletes with a blueprint of success. The selfishness is gone, which is why we also co-founded L.E.A.D., Inc. (Launch, Expose, Advise, Direct), where baseball is the blueprint to help inner-city, Atlanta Black males combat three curve balls they face in life – crime, poverty and racism.

Mentorship is guidance. Sponsorship is reliance. I believe that he who owns the definition owns the movement.

I’m currently reading Richard V. Reeves’ book Dream Hoarders: How The American Upper-Middle Class Is Leaving Everyone Else in the Dust, Why That Is A Problem, and What to Do about It. Among many things, the book introduced me to the terms “market meritocracy” and “market merit.”

The Business Dictionary defines meritocracy as “governance by elites who deserve to wield power because they possess merit (defined as ‘intelligence plus effort’) instead of by those who merely possess wealth or belong to privileged classes.” Such a system, in theory, forms the basis of an ‘equal opportunity’ society. But, in practice, unrestricted meritocracy may result in a society without rules and concentrate power in only a few hands. The term was coined by the UK sociologist Michael Young in 1958 book, The Rise Of Meritocracy. Richard V. Reeves, adds the term “market merit” to the conversation to highlight the emphasis on skills and attributes that predict economic success. We know that it is harder for some in our city to gain those skills, keeping them out of the meritocracy that runs our city.

L.E.A.D. Ambassador Justin Riddle. Photo by SMAX Photography.

I was born and raised in poverty in the inner-city of Atlanta, and I’m ashamed that we have the largest wealth gap among major cities in the United States. According to the Atlanta Chamber, if you are born into poverty in our city, you only have a 4% chance of making it out. Most people agree that the first step in changing this is education. Atlanta Public Schools (APS) educates over 51,000 students in grades K-12 and over 80% of those students live at or below the poverty level. APS is doing great things for Atlanta under the leadership of Dr. Meria Carstarphen, however, even if every Black student graduates from high school, that won’t be enough. Students living at or below the poverty level may get the education they need, but they still don’t have access to the opportunities that provide them access to the market meritocracy. Until we address this disparity, children born in poverty in Atlanta will never catch up; will never be able to live their “best life.”

People in this city want to help. The issue is that they aren’t helping in the right way. Georgia has one non-profit organization for every 361 people. Volunteers and money for inner city Atlanta are plentiful; the question is why aren’t they more effective.

Unfortunately, for many black families living in poverty the only way their children can achieve merit is to leave their community to attend school. By restricting access to the levers of meritocracy to spaces outside the inner city, we perpetuate the “ghettoization” of our city. Those left behind fall further behind. Those who can, get out by attending charter or private schools, and stay out. What can we do to change this? We need to move from mentorship to sponsorship.

We need the volunteers and philanthropists who sit on boards to understand that our youth need access to the same opportunities that their White peers living five miles away have; otherwise their merit will never be enough to break into our city’s meritocracy. It is not enough to mentor them; they need to be sponsored for specific positions and opportunities.

What does that look like? This four-step process illustrates how we can sponsor Black youth that are living at or below the poverty level in Atlanta.

Conviction
Ask yourself, “Why do I care about Black students escaping poverty so they can enjoy a life of prosperity like I have?” Vulnerability is better than pageantry.

Connection
Determine what resonates with you when you ask that question, and then share that with the student you are mentoring. This will create a connection between the two of you which will be critical for moving from mentorship to sponsorship.

Consensus
Together, identify a specific career opportunity the young person wants to pursue and make a promise to him that you will personally help him navigate achieving it through your support and endorsement.

Collaboration
Work together to make sure that the student doesn’t just get the education he needs; but that he also has access to the opportunities that will make him marketable in our city’s meritocracy. This will require your time, money, and ongoing endorsement.

I was born and raised in Bankhead in the late 70’s. Bankhead was and still is a community for majority Black and poor people.

Around the age of seven, I remember leaving my Bankhead community to attend Northside High School located in Buckhead so that I could learn how to do gymnastics and engage in other academic enhancement activities.

I remember the houses in Buckhead being so large. The grass was so green and everything was so clean. The contrast with my community was stark.

At age eight, I began dreaming of playing professional baseball with the Chicago Cubs after watching hours of the Cubbies playing on WGN in the summer with my grandfather. After the games, I would practice in the backyard by hitting and throwingrocks at targets.

I was drafted at age 18 and 20 by Chicago Cubs and finally signed the second time. After my career ended, I began training youth baseball players in the East Cobb and Buckhead community.

I grew as a person and coach in those communities. I was able to help a lot of young men fulfill their life goals of becoming Major Leaguers, business owners and military officers, to name a few.

In 2007, Stan Conway, one of my for-profit clients fromBuckhead challenged me in a way that I will never forget. He asked me what I wanted to with the rest of my life in addition to coaching. No one had ever asked me a question like that – a question that forced me to expand my limited horizon beyond my current daily life and outward to “the rest of my life”. In baseball terms, he was asking me what I planned to do to “cover all my bases” – the present, the future and the larger world in which I exist.

Stan, a white man, told me that he was aware that there was a decline of African-Americans in baseball at the MLB level. I knew that to be a fact, but I also realized I wasn’t doing anything about it. I was planting seeds in a field in the suburbs and Buckhead – I was helping fill the coveted spots of Major League Baseball with more white men – and by doing so, I was working a field that wasn’t mine. My field – my farm, my “garden” – was Bankhead and I wasn’t planting anything there.

L.E.A.D. Ambassador Amari Jones