Look both ways before you cross the street. Don’t take rides from strangers. And whatever you do, do not linger on Kinsman Avenue after sundown. These three warnings constitute the code of conduct instilled in every child raised in the city of Cleveland, Ohio.
A product of the suburbs, it was not until I began coaching youth basketball that I learned of Kinsman Avenue. Every weekend, it seemed, one of my players came to a practice or a game mourning the loss of a friend or a family member victimized by late night activities on Kinsman. Due to these stories, I learned to navigate around Kinsman when I drove through the city to drop off the members of my team whose families were without access to transportation. Perennially jovial, they would chide me about my cautionary path, saying that I needed to “juice-up” my Dodge sedan. Unperturbed, however, I maintained my route, unapologetically set on keeping these boys away from Kinsman by any means necessary.
I loved being a coach. Ever since my first sports philanthropy trip to the Dominican Republic, I had dreamed of starting my own organization that would use sports to reach underprivileged youth. After completing college, the opportunity to accomplish this dream finally presented itself in the form of starting my own charitable non-profit, XXX XXX, an organization that uses athletics to counteract youth violence and promote educational success to young people. For the most part, directing XXX XXXX seemed to be the logical outcome achieved by my educational and professional background. My experiences in the Dominican Republic enabled me to extend my programming internationally and bilingually. Time spent as a mentor for a troubled young man in my area had sensitized me to the issues confronting youth. Through a rigorous liberal arts education, I had developed proper writing and speaking skills, making it possible for me to secure support and request funding. Altogether, XXX XXXX employed my ambition and abilities, making me very comfortable in my position on the vocational timeline.
Just as I was settling into this lifestyle, however, my organization received a request to conduct a weeklong basketball camp at the local Juvenile Justice Center for 21 young boys. Our camps usually consisted of hour-long sessions of basketball instruction followed by leadership and life skills workshops hosted by our camp staff.
I have always considered myself a “cool” academic, able to present research to senior-level officials of an organization and later play in a basketball game with members of the maintenance staff. As I walked into the JJC classroom, however, and saw those 21 young men in blue prison uniforms, I knew that no amount of social intelligence would make reaching these boys an easy task.
My first interaction with the inmates was awkward and uncomfortable. I had difficulty finding the right words to say, unsure of how exactly to communicate with people in their situation. Once the first basketball session began, however, I realized that these young men were just like any of the other many campers that had attended one of our sessions. They had just made some poor choices in their lives that had led them into those blue uniforms.
On the final day of programming, I sat down across the lunch table from Woody, a boy of 16 who had served most of his youth in detention. Our topic for the day was achieving one’s potential, so I asked Woody what he wanted to do when he “grew up.” Woody sat silent for a second and returned the question to me. I told him that I was doing it. I will always remember how Woody responded:
“I appreciate what you guys are doing, coming here and showing us you care. But, I have an appointment with the judge tomorrow, and basketball skills won’t help me in the courtroom.”
I thought about Woody’s words that whole day. Later, as I left the detention complex, I noticed the amount of young men, fully shackled, being led down the hallway accompanied by a man or woman in a suit, whom I assumed were their attorneys.
Looking back on my career path up to this point, I cannot help but draw a parallel to those long drives home to avoid Kinsman Avenue. In college, I participated in countless volunteer opportunities, striving for some vague idealistic nirvana. All this activity was the same as driving around Kinsman Avenue, going the extra mile to stay safe and be praised by others. But I had never considered that there are people who cannot avoid Kinsman, held prisoner by their situation or their poor decisions.
For this reason, I have decided that law school is the next necessary step in my life journey. I am very interested in the University of _______ because of their excellent Juvenile Law Program. As a Legal Studies minor in college, I always considered that a legal education would be in my future, but I lacked a sense of urgency to get there. Thankfully, XXX XXXX and my experiences working with young people in the Juvenile Justice System have given me that gift of motivation. My education and professional experiences have all led me here to this application, taking that first step out of the car, ready to help whoever finds himself stranded on Kinsman Avenue.
