Translator: Delia Cohen Reviewer: Ellen Maloney
Salaam alaikum.
When my son Jesse was first born,
I wanted to be the type of father of my grandfather's generation.
You know, the self-reliant, hardworking man that makes all of his choices
from a place that he knows what's best for his family,
but I realized I was none of those things.
I was not in the position that my grandfather was
to feed my family.
My grandfather fed not only his family but the neighbors as well.
Heck, at times that man even had enough produce to sell at market,
and my male leadership model never got me to that place.
So, as soon as the opportunity afforded and presented itself,
I left.
I abandoned my son, Jesse.
I left him to find his place in the world all alone.
And I had constructed in my mind that I did the best thing that I could
for Jesse by leaving.
I was totally convinced that I would never be the man he deserved me to be,
and the effect was just catastrophic, just earth-shattering.
Every choice from that point on
originated from a place that supported the biggest mistake of my life.
Decision-making had become my life's work at coming to prison,
and my lifestyle quickly got me to that place
in exchange for my integrity, my humanity,
and the honor of being a father for my son.
I was totally disconnected; I was depressed.
I was controlled by my fears.
Still, I did not want to believe that I was destined to live and die
without my son,
so somehow I had to find the courage, and reconnect.
So I equipped myself with a firm understanding
of the what's and why's of how I brought myself to be so cut off.
And after threading the needle and preparing to repair the fabric
that I had torn, something happened that reminded me of the child
that I used to be and the man who I truly am.
I saved my friend Donovan's life.
And I was surprised at how human I felt and how good it felt to want
to be there for my friend Donovan
to help him know that things would get better
and that he could feel better and do better
not only for himself but for others.
And this awakened in me my need to reconnect with the human race
on a deeper level.
And at the end of the day, incarceration had become a source of freedom.
I was able to experience a new world view
distinguishing my past ignorance of the real good
from the sickness of my own thoughts
and in time, it was like walking into a Kevin Bacon analogy.
You know, like a six degrees of separation.
But separation and my familiarity with it
was fast becoming the four degrees of reconnection.
Reconnecting with my son began
with being there for my old and dear friend Donovan
who was ready to live.
Donovan put me in touch with another dear friend, Tracy,
who if she heard me call her "old,"
she would smash my face in.
So, shush. Let's keep that between us.
Tracy then shared my story with her daughter Zoe,
which led to Zoe to finding my son on Facebook.
Donovan, Tracy, Zoe, Jesse.
I made the connection and found my son in four steps: I win.
(Laughter)
So, immediately I started writing letters.
And at first my writings were overcompensation
for everything I missed in his life.
And I wrote Jesse as a father having a conversation
with his son at the end of a long day of school
because I am now here to say, "You're home now, son.
Come closer inside and speak with me.
Tell me Jesse, what do we have to say?"
I write to comfort him from the noise of the world
as I have his attention to communicate
that it's not healthy to resent others
for what they may believe, say, or do against them out of ignorance
for who he is.
And I'm able to share my experience
with whom I can speak to nobody else about.
He and how he and I can be alone
and relate on a very high level what it's like to be talented
and full of creative energy because I can now build with Jesse and exchange
1,000 plus new ideas of how we alone can change the world.
Now, communication was one way for a few months,
until he came to visit me in prison.
Wow, what a damn handsome man.
(Laughter)
And I don't mean that in an Ohio penitentiary type of way.
(Laughter)
What? It's my son!
(Laughter)
You see, with inside of the past 20 years
I've only had two hours face time with this dude, alright?
And within those two hours,
I was honored to be questioned by him.
I was fortunate enough to be forgiven by him,
and my tears were accepted by him
in place of any ineffective words that I had prepared for him.
And he got right to it.
The first question was,
"Why did you leave me, dude?"
So, his mother jumped right in,
and she said, "I never said anything bad about you."
Of course,
I was grateful for her discretion but still I was at a loss of words
because I had prepared for what would have been 15 years at that time
to provide an answer,
and all I had the strength to offer were tears,
much like I'm welling up now.
And the truth of it is, I could only be wrong
by answering with words because any excuse would only deepen the void.
Action is the only reasonable response,
and Jesse demonstrated that truth with compassion,
absolving me with a touch of his understanding hand
as he reached across the visiting table and said,
"It's alright, dude. I forgive you."
(Applause)
And just like that,
I was accepted back into the human race.
Still, I asked myself,
"What kind of man abandons his child?"
For me the answer has been: the kind of man that is afraid of failing;
that sets goals only to abandon them at the first sign of trouble;
and the kind of man that for very selfish reasons supports his choice
with a lifetime of ill decision making,
afraid to step outside of his own, perceived failings
and into doing something wonderful.
Now, I still continue to write my son
in an attempt to express how being cut off from him had become my reminder
of my need for the relationship that he now holds for both of us.
And I write to build credibility and gain his trust
so that we can create a meaningful relationship together,
And I'm honest and committed
to making my words honest
about the pushback that comes with change,
because I want Jesse to keep a positive outlook
and do more with less
especially when the time will come for us to defuse
emotionally charged situations.
I still spill ink at the challenge we face
with a focus on the father and his son
wanting to make a deeper connection regardless of being separated
by time and circumstance.
I write to think beyond beyond these penitentiary walls,
and I write absolutely thinking beyond the moment.
How many of us have had an idea and think that idea
to be the absolute best thing to do for our children?
We measure our value as parents by the nice clothes, the house,
the education we're afforded to provide them,
but when we look back on our own childhood,
what do we really wish we had more of?
Is it the material things that we long for?
Or is it the opportunity
to build a deeper emotional connection
with our fathers at creating better better memories through our fathers?
I want you to picture in your mind
and exchange your vision for something less restricting,
and open your heart to doing something wonderful.
If you're an absentee father, reconnect.
You are far greater than you perceive yourself to be,
and you can get to that place where you know you need to be.
If you're already there for your children,
think back about what you wish you had more of later in life.
Provide that for your children now.
And if you're the world's greatest dad
you've got a coffee mug to prove it.
(Laughter)
Make an even deeper connection with your children
and help other families to reconnect.
Peace.
(Applause)