karimah
08-28-2007, 03:21 PM
Graduating from lockups to college
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Jerry Baines wants to prove us wrong. Last week, he boarded a flight to his future, leaving behind a past that was a minefield of trouble.
For most of his life, it was diffi cult to believe Baines, now 17, wanted anything worthwhile. He spent every birthday and major holiday since age 9 locked up. He was a Crip by then, led that gang- banging life and got arrested for crimes ranging from car theft to as saults growing up in Newark. He had to hustle to get by in a broken home. He shined shoes at age 5, swept barbershops at age 6.
"I never thought I was going to make it out of high school or past 15," he said.
Well, he's done both and taken the next step. Continental Flight 1169 was his first plane ride. He was nervous. His ears popped. He couldn't eat the muffin, cereal or drink the juice. He just listened to his CD player. When he landed in Atlanta, Ga., the two-hour drive to Paine College -- a historically black college in Augusta -- was surreal.
It was the first time he had been on his own. Until now, the ju dicial system had controlled where he went.
This was a new experience, a strange sense of freedom. With freedom came the responsibility he had never experienced, a future he never thought he had, a chance to finally do something positive with his life.
All of this hit him on Interstate 20. He was in a rental car, being driven by his never-say-die men tors, David Muhammad and Earl Best, two well-known men in Newark who didn't give up on Baines despite his past and shortcomings.
"They just don't talk," Baines said. "They do."
Muhammad and Best, whom many know as the "Street Doctor," met Baines at the Essex County Juvenile Detention Center. Muhammad had started a program to get lives on track.
He would help Baines register for school, get him employed when he was released in February and do whatever he could to keep him off the streets. If he needed a couple of bucks, Muhammad emptied his pockets, even paid Baines to do odd jobs around his house.
It didn't last long. Baines wound up in a stolen car, with his crew, seeking revenge against a rival gang that had jumped him. He was in trouble and it didn't look good. He led police on a high-speed chase and crashed the car into a tree in March, 20 days after he was released. Baines figured he was on his way back to the Training School for Boys in Jamesburg.
For some reason, though, Muhammad and Best stayed with Baines, kept after him, kept believing he would change. Best, a convicted bank robber, says he didn't get it together until he was 50 years old, so he wasn't giving up on Baines.
The young man wanted to change. He had already met Bill Cosby, who had visited the deten tion center. The comedian had lit a fire within Baines, made him see that through education that he could rise above his circumstance.
"Cosby must have seen something in me that I didn't see in my self," Baines said.
So did the judge, who could see Baines had people pulling for him. The judge didn't send him to Jamesburg in June. This gave him the chance he needed to get it right.
He graduated high school, picked out Paine College. He filled out the application and waited for an answer. In the meantime, he worked a job, but got fired. Muhammad was worried again, be cause Baines needs to be busy. He didn't know what else to do until the college called. Everything began to move fast. Baines had to rush to complete his academic packet.
Then he needed money to get to Augusta so he could be at the school for freshman orientation last week.
Muhammad put out a call to the community and people responded. He raised money for plane fare, college expenses and a little something to throw in a bank account.
The school was waiting for him, welcomed him. President Curtis Martin is his mentor. He had a heart-to-heart, no-nonsense talk with Baines, telling him what he expects from him as a student and a young man turning his life around.
When we spoke, he had just re turned to his dorm room. Muhammad and Best had taken him to Target to buy sheets and towels, toiletries, a mini-refrigerator, some snacks. It was a long day, but Baines was enjoying it. There were no stolen cars driving wild, no "drug heads" drifting about. It's nice and quiet at his new home, a slower pace than here.
"It's not my speed yet, but I'm going to make it my speed," he said.
Baines couldn't believe it. He was on a college campus. Muhammad had to catch himself, too. On the plane ride down, Best saw his eyes water.
"I couldn't hold myself," Muhammad said. "It's just a thing like you know it's happening. I'm get ting all choked up talking to you."
Baines is one who has possibly been saved. He represents hope for those just like him.
"I know what I'm doing now is positive," he said. "I want to make a difference."
This is why he's going to prove us wrong. Every last one of us.
Barry Carter covers Newark. He may be reached at bcarter@starled ger.com or (973) 392-1827.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Jerry Baines wants to prove us wrong. Last week, he boarded a flight to his future, leaving behind a past that was a minefield of trouble.
For most of his life, it was diffi cult to believe Baines, now 17, wanted anything worthwhile. He spent every birthday and major holiday since age 9 locked up. He was a Crip by then, led that gang- banging life and got arrested for crimes ranging from car theft to as saults growing up in Newark. He had to hustle to get by in a broken home. He shined shoes at age 5, swept barbershops at age 6.
"I never thought I was going to make it out of high school or past 15," he said.
Well, he's done both and taken the next step. Continental Flight 1169 was his first plane ride. He was nervous. His ears popped. He couldn't eat the muffin, cereal or drink the juice. He just listened to his CD player. When he landed in Atlanta, Ga., the two-hour drive to Paine College -- a historically black college in Augusta -- was surreal.
It was the first time he had been on his own. Until now, the ju dicial system had controlled where he went.
This was a new experience, a strange sense of freedom. With freedom came the responsibility he had never experienced, a future he never thought he had, a chance to finally do something positive with his life.
All of this hit him on Interstate 20. He was in a rental car, being driven by his never-say-die men tors, David Muhammad and Earl Best, two well-known men in Newark who didn't give up on Baines despite his past and shortcomings.
"They just don't talk," Baines said. "They do."
Muhammad and Best, whom many know as the "Street Doctor," met Baines at the Essex County Juvenile Detention Center. Muhammad had started a program to get lives on track.
He would help Baines register for school, get him employed when he was released in February and do whatever he could to keep him off the streets. If he needed a couple of bucks, Muhammad emptied his pockets, even paid Baines to do odd jobs around his house.
It didn't last long. Baines wound up in a stolen car, with his crew, seeking revenge against a rival gang that had jumped him. He was in trouble and it didn't look good. He led police on a high-speed chase and crashed the car into a tree in March, 20 days after he was released. Baines figured he was on his way back to the Training School for Boys in Jamesburg.
For some reason, though, Muhammad and Best stayed with Baines, kept after him, kept believing he would change. Best, a convicted bank robber, says he didn't get it together until he was 50 years old, so he wasn't giving up on Baines.
The young man wanted to change. He had already met Bill Cosby, who had visited the deten tion center. The comedian had lit a fire within Baines, made him see that through education that he could rise above his circumstance.
"Cosby must have seen something in me that I didn't see in my self," Baines said.
So did the judge, who could see Baines had people pulling for him. The judge didn't send him to Jamesburg in June. This gave him the chance he needed to get it right.
He graduated high school, picked out Paine College. He filled out the application and waited for an answer. In the meantime, he worked a job, but got fired. Muhammad was worried again, be cause Baines needs to be busy. He didn't know what else to do until the college called. Everything began to move fast. Baines had to rush to complete his academic packet.
Then he needed money to get to Augusta so he could be at the school for freshman orientation last week.
Muhammad put out a call to the community and people responded. He raised money for plane fare, college expenses and a little something to throw in a bank account.
The school was waiting for him, welcomed him. President Curtis Martin is his mentor. He had a heart-to-heart, no-nonsense talk with Baines, telling him what he expects from him as a student and a young man turning his life around.
When we spoke, he had just re turned to his dorm room. Muhammad and Best had taken him to Target to buy sheets and towels, toiletries, a mini-refrigerator, some snacks. It was a long day, but Baines was enjoying it. There were no stolen cars driving wild, no "drug heads" drifting about. It's nice and quiet at his new home, a slower pace than here.
"It's not my speed yet, but I'm going to make it my speed," he said.
Baines couldn't believe it. He was on a college campus. Muhammad had to catch himself, too. On the plane ride down, Best saw his eyes water.
"I couldn't hold myself," Muhammad said. "It's just a thing like you know it's happening. I'm get ting all choked up talking to you."
Baines is one who has possibly been saved. He represents hope for those just like him.
"I know what I'm doing now is positive," he said. "I want to make a difference."
This is why he's going to prove us wrong. Every last one of us.
Barry Carter covers Newark. He may be reached at bcarter@starled ger.com or (973) 392-1827.