Until I got to North Carolina A&T, I didn’t know enough black history By learning how powerful black people are, I learned just how powerful I am

For many African-Americans, February is a time of reflection and celebration. Many look back on the trials and tribulations that have oppressed our people and show their appreciation for the brave men and women who fought to make a better way of life for the next generation.

As an African-American kid who grew up attending public school in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, I was well-versed in African-American history. Figures such as Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman and others have been etched into my brain since third grade.

For many years, however, the struggle that these courageous pioneers went through was my only perspective on black history. While slavery and the civil rights movement are key components of our story, they are not our whole story. I believe growing up in a majority-white public school system blinded me to that fact.

It wasn’t until I stepped foot on the campus of a historically black college or university (HBCU), North Carolina A&T, did I realize everything that encompasses our rich history. The second semester of my freshman year, I took an African-American studies course that was taught by professor Joy Thompson.

In that class, I learned how my ancestors were far more than slaves and disenfranchised people. I learned that my ancestors were powerful African rulers and dignitaries such as Mansa Musa and Queen Tiye, who created some of the richest and most successful societies ever.

I learned that my ancestors created the University of Timbuktu, which was the first university on the planet.

I learned that my ancestors engineered their own versions of Wall Street that focused on black-owned businesses in both Durham, North Carolina, and Tulsa, Oklahoma.

I learned many accomplishments of black people. But most importantly, I learned that my ancestors were relevant. They were revolutionaries. They were innovators and they were influential without the presence of oppression.

As a young black boy in elementary school, I never had the same sense of pride in my people as I did sitting in Thompson’s class. I had to wait until I turned 19, until I attended an HBCU, to experience this.

“Going to an HBCU has shown me that black history is so diverse. When people think of HBCUs, people think of how they are predominantly black schools, which is true. But there is just so much diversity in the black community,” said Bradford Brooks, a junior multimedia journalism major from Charlotte, North Carolina. “Going to an HBCU has reassured me that our culture and history is so important, because without black history, there would be no history at all.”

I have always been proud to be black. But the inspiration and confidence that manifests in your spirit once you attend an HBCU is unmatched. Especially once you begin to learn about the true greatness of your people.

I guess that is what makes Black History Month at HBCUs so special. By learning how powerful black people are, I learned just how powerful I am.

‘The Plug’ podcast: ‘Run Me My Money feat. Jalen Rose’ (Episode 12) The ‘Fab Five’ legend sheds light on exactly how it feels to be young, dumb, talented and broke

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With the NCAA news exploding over the weekend, The Plug crew brought in an expert to discuss the state of collegiate athletics. Fab Five phenom, now NBA analyst, Jalen Rose sheds light on exactly how it feels to be young, dumb, talented and broke. Rose also talks about how he thinks the NBA can stand in solidarity with its collegiate counterparts, as well as how he became the first “Jalen” and what that means to him. Plus, we gear up for the Academy Awards and discuss the upcoming clash of two of the most powerful black women to hit the small screen. And, of course — the hot takes are plentiful. As always, please make sure you subscribe to The Plug using the ESPN app!

Previously: ‘The Plug’ podcast: NBA All-Star recap + Chris Tucker on ‘Rush Hour 4’ (Episode 11)

Kobe Bryant, Quincy Jones, Halle Berry honor Cheryl Boone Isaacs at private pre-Oscars event The pioneering former Academy president is presented with legacy award

When the legendary Quincy Jones took the stage on Tuesday night, he immediately launched into a story. It was about hanging out one day with Kobe Bryant, LeBron James and Yao Ming. He said he’d grabbed a chair and stood on it so that he was able to look down on the three NBA big men — and instructed a photographer not to shoot his feet. The crowd laughed.

But this night wasn’t actually about sports. Jones was one of many celebrities and true icons to pay tribute to Cheryl Boone Isaacs, the former president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who was presented with the inaugural Legacy Award at ICON MANN’s sixth annual pre-Oscar dinner. The dinner was the conclusion of a day-long takeover that also included daytime panels at the SAG/AFTRA headquarters, like an intimate conversation with Boone Isaacs and director and producer Reginald Hudlin and a Black Panther panel that was moderated by ICON MANN founder Tamara Houston.

Jones had just been introduced by Kobe Bryant, who told the dinner guests at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel — Halle Berry, Nia Long and Shannon Sharpe among them — that he’d cold-called Jones when he was 18 years old to ask for advice. “I asked the most random questions,” Bryant said before stopping to laugh at the memory. “I said, ‘How do you do what you do?’ And he laughed. And he proceeded to break down his process. It’s important … to understand the great minds that came before you, and how you do what you do in hopes that we can create something … in our own disciplines and industries to future our own craft.”

Bryant and Jones were among a long line of famous folks and industry influencers who lauded Boone Isaacs and her contributions to film, as well as her work to diversify the voting body of the Academy, in the wake of the #OscarsSoWhite campaign, which started in 2015 after April Reign created the hashtag. The dinner was hosted by Cedric the Entertainer, and before Boone Isaacs took the stage, a parade of people paid tribute to her — some were creative, like rapper and actor Common, who performed a few verses about the power of black women. Others, like Berry, were emotional.

“I’m so proud to be your friend. I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. I’m so proud to be a black woman when black women like you are leading organizations like the Academy,” Berry said to Boone Isaacs. “All the work that you did while you were there has changed the way the Academy runs, and nobody takes that away. I was saddened when I got the news that you weren’t running for re-election, I was, because it meant so much as a black woman that you were there. I felt safer. I felt better about it.”

By the time Boone Isaacs took the stage, she used sports as an analogy, citing the days when there were Olympic games with no black swimmers, when there were no golf champions and when tennis had no diversity. It wasn’t until people of color were given opportunities that progression happened in those sports. There’s still more work to be done, she was careful to note, but she sure was happy that she was no longer the lone person in a space. The organization also announced a special scholarship named for Boone Isaacs and her late brother, Ashley Boone Jr., who was a groundbreaking motion picture marketing and distribution executive for many years in Hollywood.

What is the ‘State of the Black Athlete’? The cultural resonance, political awakening and activation of the black athlete, as told in pictures

Athletic success may get you through the door, but be mindful, once you get here: “Stick to sports.”

There has been an unspoken expectation and, more recently, an apparent insistence that athletes’ opinions and passions are to be kept quiet. But the cultural resonance, political awakening and activation of the black athlete has pushed back on this narrative.

We asked several artists of color to examine and interpret the current “state of the black athlete.” Here’s what they came up with.

Sam Adefé

I often find that no matter the sport, brothers in the game continuously have to prove themselves worthy of the pedestal they are heavily burdened with. I say brother because to me, every black athlete represents someone like myself — a black kid chasing his dreams — finding inspiration in the actions of the people already paving the way.

Represented here is Anthony Joshua’s raised clenched fist after he defeated Wladimir Klitschko. To the many black youths who happened to be watching that day, witnessing that gesture meant more than just a show of celebration. This gesture symbolizes a show of solidarity.

Adrian Brandon

My goal with this illustration is to address the commonalities between black professional athletes and the black victims of police violence — it highlights the incredible amount of responsibility black athletes have and the role sports fans play in the current wave of athlete activism.

The sprinter in the illustration is focused on the finish line, while his shadow represents the young black victims of police brutality, symbolizing the constant fear that all black men and women face in today’s society.

Both the sprinter and his shadow are running away — in the same direction, illustrating the chilling similarities between black professional athletes and the victims we see on the news.

The crowd supporting the runner changes from sports fans (right) to protesters/activists (left). This begs the question, who is the black athlete competing for? How has this wave of black athlete activism changed the mentalities of sports fans?

Brandon Breaux

I wanted to capture black athletes in a contemplative state. These competitors have or have had the ability to reach so many people — it’s a great responsibility, but can also be a great burden.

Athletes, in general, already have to deal with so much: unwanted attention, pressure, rumors, performance anxiety, and even more. Black athletes, have all that on top of feeling as though they aren’t 100 percent accepted in their own country.

Today’s current state of affairs feel special. I think it’s a time where the life of a black athlete/person is so much bigger than the self, and the athletes in my illustration represent the contemplation that comes with it.

Caitlin Cherry

John Urschel, a former offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens, retired in 2017 to pursue his studies as a doctoral candidate in mathematics at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. His retirement came suddenly, just two days after a study of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) found nearly all former NFL players who donated their brains to science had signs of CTE.

It seemed the two were connected.

Urschel knows the all-too-real statistics that injury risk is high and the average NFL player’s career spans between two and five years.

He should inspire the next generation of would-be ballplayers in any professional sport that their studies in college are not supplementary. There is a life after the NFL. I appreciate him as a Renaissance man.

Chase Conley

What Huey P. Newton has taught me is that I have the power to change my condition, and it’s vital that we stand up against the unjust and fight for what we believe in, even if the cost is high. Until these players start worrying about the issues concerning the state of black people in this country and not about their paychecks, they are still a part of the problem. Yes, you may lose your job, but is that job more important than the condition of your people? Young black teenagers being gunned down in the street every other week? We all should have the courage to sacrifice for the greater good.

What would these leagues be without black people anyway?

Emmanuel Mdlalose

I likened the movement of sprinter Allyson Felix to when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. Representing Felix overcoming obstacles faced by a black woman, especially in the athletic world — just dominating. I am drawn to her composed personality while being able to be strong-willed at the same time. She really represents the metamorphosis of a butterfly — in all her beauty, swiftness, and, most importantly, freedom.

Kia Dyson

In a time where black bodies are on public display and seemingly viewed to hold no value, I have attempted to find a way to turn tragedies within the black community into works of art.

“Above All Things” represents the ability, and, more importantly, the necessity for women of color to go above and beyond in all we do just to receive fair recognition. The expectations are higher for us.

We don’t have the luxury of mediocrity when it comes to providing, performing or competing. So we use our excellence as a form of protest: a demonstration of strength, acceptance, womanhood and visibility.

Laci Jordan

The state of the black athlete is conflicted.

Athletes grow up simply loving the game. As they grow older, outside factors come into play that can inhibit that love: notoriety, fame, special treatment, money, etc. Players can also become public figures and role models. Black athletes are stuck between these two worlds.

As an athlete, you have the keys to success to take care of yourself and your family, but on the other end, you sacrifice your voice and ability to speak on anything political — you’re told to stick to the game. As a black athlete, you’re expected to enjoy your riches and fame in exchange for your voice, choices and ethics.

Pierre Bennu

This piece references the Afro-futurist interpretation of the slavery project in the Western Hemisphere as a centuries-long genetic experiment, as well as the Sankofa concept of looking backward and seeing the future.

In choosing materials to make up the image, I imagine the middle passage as a thrusting or throwing forward into the future of mass amounts of human capital. With the crown of shards, I seek to reference the toll that many professional sports take on the body and also the regal state of being at peak physical form.

Robert Generette III

The statement on the tape, “PLAY,” not only states a command but also commands attention. I wanted the art to speak to different sides of the argument: players who comply, players wanting to exercise their First Amendment rights, and fans for or against athletes’ choices.

In the illustration, a spotlight is placed on an ambiguous African-American athlete who is shirtless, which suggests he’s baring it all. For the athletes who comply with “shut up and play,” the red arrow symbolizes the potential for them to excel or “climb the ladder to success” in their sport. The athlete who complies thrives.

For the athletes wanting to exercise their First Amendment rights, the intense stare reflects the absurdity of being told to shut up and play. The athlete has the complex choice of raising one fist (in protest) or raising both fists (in victory). For the fans who are not affected by or disagree with the views of athletes, the sticker across the athlete’s mouth, in their opinion, should become an essential part of the uniform.

I want this illustration to beg the questions: Should you keep quiet and find contempt for living one’s dream? Or should you use your dream as a platform to speak for those whose voices go unheard at the expense of sacrificing one’s dream?

Ronald Wimberly

I asked myself about the political role of the black body within a racist, consumerist paradigm and how that plays out in sports. For this image I thought about how athletes may work through these very same questions through sports. From Muhammad Ali’s name change to the Black Power fists of the 1968 Olympic Games, to Colin Kaepernick’s act of taking a knee — we are given expressions, symbolic abstractions, symbols that challenge us to think. I think this is the most radical act: to be challenged to think, to ask questions. Explaining artwork is a trap.

Formally, the work is a dialogue with the works of Aaron Douglas and Tadanori Yokoo and the movements to which they belong.

Tiffany B. Chanel

“I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color,” said Colin Kaepernick. In the face of explicit and implicit racism, everyday people rise selflessly to address social injustice. Among these people are African-American athletes, such as the ones in my painting, who use their public platform and their First Amendment right to solidify their purpose as change agents. Their primary goal is to rewrite the narrative of oppressed people and afford them a pathway to upward mobility.

Some may say we have come really far, but have we really? What would you say?

James Harden’s fresh new Adidas colorway recalls his beloved junior high school years Rapper Nipsey Hussle takes L.A. pride in the Audubon Middle School alum and leading MVP candidate

At Adidas’ 747 Warehouse St. event during 2018 NBA All-Star Weekend, The Undefeated’s Aaron Dodson caught up with Los Angeles Sparks two-time MVP Candace Parker and six-time All-Star James Harden of the Houston Rockets. This two-part series will highlight the connection both players have to Adidas.

LOS ANGELES — In the streets of Los Angeles, there’s nothing but love and respect for James Harden. Just ask Nipsey Hussle, one of the city’s most respected rappers.

Fresh off the stage at the Hollywood Palladium, where he’d performed tracks from his recently dropped Victory Lap, Hussle bumped into Harden, the face of the Houston Rockets franchise and front-runner for this year’s Maurice Podoloff Trophy, presented annually to the league’s most valuable player. The random run-in turned into an impromptu family reunion for Hussle, who hails from the Crenshaw area, and Harden, who’s from nearby Compton. The way the two chopped it up, you would’ve thought they were cousins.

“The n—a that broke the NBA record for the highest m—–f—ing contract ever went to Audubon!” said Hussle to a swarm of paparazzi, with his arm draped around the hooper’s shoulder. The MC referenced the richest contract extension in NBA history: a four-year, $228 million deal that Harden signed last summer. But Audubon?

“Y’all don’t know what that is!” Harden joked to the people behind the flashing cameras. For him, though, that word means a lot. Audubon Middle School, in Hussle’s ’hood of Crenshaw, is one of the NBA superstar’s alma maters. So when Harden returned home to L.A. for All-Star Weekend, during which he dropped his new signature Adidas sneaker, it was only right that he paid homage to the school where it all began.

As a starter in the All-Star Game, the 6-foot-5 shooting guard took the hardwood at the Staples Center wearing his Adidas Harden Vol. 2s in the “Vision” colorway, a design inspired by Audubon’s school colors but remixed to incorporate different shades of green and a glitched palm tree pattern. The shoe dropped exclusively at Adidas’ All-Star Weekend pop-up, about 8 miles from his old middle school.

The day after bonding with Hussle over Audubon, Harden made an appearance at the Adidas event, where folks awaited the moment they’d be graced by the presence of what was billed as a “special guest.” As Harden stepped foot on a basketball court primarily populated by kids from the city’s neighboring communities, the crowd went nuts — rushing from the bleachers and circling him, prompting the DJ to drop Playboi Carti’s 2017 smash hit “Magnolia” — and of course the Snapchat videos started rolling.

The track and atmosphere commenced a Milly Rock battle between Harden and a few of his fellow L.A. natives, as he swayed back and forth in a fresh pair of his new kicks, which are engineered with FORGEFIBER and full-length BOOST technology tailored to his one-of-a-kind footwork and ability to change direction on the court.

“As a kid, you always want your own shoe,” Harden told The Undefeated in the scrum. “I’ve got my Vol. 2s now, so it’s an unbelievable feeling, especially when you’ve got the support behind you.”

Instagram Photo

In this moment, Harden donned the burgundy “Ignite” colorway of the Vol. 2s, but the crowd favorite was certainly the vibrant “Vision” look, worn by countless children who surrounded him. The salmon-tinted “California Dreamin’” colorway also debuted during All-Star Weekend.

“Man … Audubon is where I learned to love the game of basketball. On the playgrounds …,” Harden said of the shoe before he was overcome by loud bellows of “M-V-P! M-V-P! M-V-P!” He finally embraced the chants by waving his hand for more and letting out a powerful roar. Back to the middle school-inspired shoe: “It’s where I fell in love with the game, and I just took it from there.”

After leaving Audubon, Harden attended Artesia High School in Lakewood, California, where he emerged as a five-star recruit and McDonald’s All-American. He starred at Arizona State University for two seasons before the Oklahoma City Thunder selected him with the third overall pick in the 2009 NBA draft. Since 2012, when a trade sent him from Oklahoma City to Houston, he’s become a six-time NBA All-Star and three-time first-team All-NBA selection, and for the past three seasons he’s been knocking on the door of becoming an NBA MVP. In 2015, Harden’s personal brand became so big that Adidas lured him away from an endorsement deal with Nike by offering a 13-year, $200 million contract.

“Adidas is everything. You see the waves that we’re creating. It’s not just basketball — it’s a lifestyle,” said Harden at 747 Warehouse St. Later that night, 21-time Grammy Award winner Kanye West, the brand’s highest-profile endorser, popped up at the event to perform. (Also of note: Since the All-Star break, it’s been reported that Adidas is “far along in negotiations” with rapper Drake, who currently has a deal with Jordan Brand.) “Adidas is changing the culture,” Harden continued. “Just taking over.”

Less than three years after committing to the brand, Harden is already one of the faces of Adidas Basketball, now in his second signature shoe. As for whether this one, the Harden Vol. 2, will help him capture the elusive MVP award?

“Easy,” Harden said with a smile. “Easy.”

Not too bad for an L.A. kid from Audubon.

Morehouse allowed this black man to step outside the stereotypes I almost didn’t go here, but four years later, I’m glad I did

I was not supposed to attend Morehouse.

Left to my own devices, I would’ve been at “The U” — enjoying Miami’s sunshine and great football while trying to forget the $60,000 worth of debt I would have accumulated during the past four years. It would’ve undoubtedly been an amazing college experience, yet I’d be missing something.

Having graduated from a predominantly white high school, I wanted to go where I’d feel comfortable. Despite having spent the last two years of high school gradually withdrawing from my white peers, I was not open to immersing myself in a primarily black environment. “Just visit and see how you feel then,” I can remember my mother saying.

After visiting Morehouse in the spring of 2014, my position on attending a historically black college or university (HBCU) remained unchanged. I was intrigued by the Atlanta University Center’s 22-to-1 girl-to-guy ratio, but there was too much to overlook: The campus looked antiquated, the school’s history did not pique my interest and the amenities I had grown accustomed to were nonexistent.

Four years later, however, I can honestly say heading to South Florida would’ve been the worst decision of my life.

Morehouse allowed me to be myself without the fear of conforming to the stereotypical boxes often ascribed to black men. In high school, I was either the athletic black kid or the smart black kid; exhibiting any signs of both were grounds for social suicide.

From the moment I stepped onto Morehouse’s campus, I cut ties with these social assumptions and saw the multifaceted black male experience firsthand. My classmates and I have different backgrounds, hairstyles, career goals and bench press personal records. But by making the choice to attend Morehouse, we share one thing: a will to succeed.

This ambition is the undercurrent that drives Morehouse College. It has fostered the brotherhood that has made the institution famous. It’s what led the student body to advocate for school improvements in 2016 and why Morehouse has continued to produce more black men who go on to earn doctoral degrees in an array of fields than any other undergraduate institution. Graduates and patrons of the college call it the Morehouse Mystique.

Additionally, that brotherhood brings a level of competitiveness that breeds excellence. In a space that produced great men such as Martin Luther King Jr., Spike Lee and Bakari Sellers, I’m not just encouraged to be true to myself — I’m pushed to be exceptional.

If that weren’t enough, you only have to stand outside and ask those passing by what they did over the summer, from working with Goldman Sachs to internships with NBC Universal to interning with the city of Atlanta.

Still, like most HBCUs, Morehouse is not free from imperfections. But what Mother Morehouse lacked in resources she compensated for by providing a wealth of opportunities. The school attracts recruiters who are looking to employ and professionally develop black males. In terms of extracurricular activities, events such as early blockbuster film screenings — I saw both Get Out and Black Panther before the masses — celebrity artist pop-ups and free Atlanta Hawks tickets are not out of the norm.

“Hungry dogs run faster,” the oft-quoted line from the Philadelphia Eagles’ parade, has typified my experience at Morehouse. From the spotty Wi-Fi to the century-old dorm rooms to the extensive lines outside of the financial aid office, it has all played a role in preparing me for the real world. When the real world doesn’t provide an easy path, Morehouse has given me a road map in the form of a stellar network, a competitive degree and an unadulterated sense of self.

This is all helpful in a world where black males are incarcerated at a much higher rate than our white peers and are three times more likely to die at the hands of a police officer.

In retrospect, maybe it is these statistics that fuel the determination of the men of Morehouse, or that they are one false move away from being one of them. At Morehouse, however, you’re free from these notions being ascribed to you. Every teacher, student and administrator is determined to push you past the limits society has placed on you.

For this very reason, I am happy I chose Morehouse. The past four years have been the greatest of my life. If I could do it all over again, I would. The only difference? I’d save some time and money by applying only to Morehouse.

My Brother’s Keeper creates grant competition focused on youth violence and mentoring programs Up to $500,000 in grants available for organizations working with Obama Foundation initiative

My Brother’s Keeper Alliance, an initiative of the Obama Foundation, announced Monday that it is launching the MBK Community Challenge Competition for $500,000 in grants to help uplift boys and young men of color and other underserved youth.

The program is aimed at finding solutions to youth violence and increasing the number of mentors for boys. In addition to the planning grants, it will provide winners with a team of experts and practitioners and access to more funds to hire full-time local project leads.

“Four years ago, President Obama launched the My Brother’s Keeper initiative, and since then hundreds of communities have stepped up and shown up for their boys and young men of color in extraordinary ways. We are excited to let these communities know the Obama Foundation remains committed to their success, and provide some tools and resources to help them accelerate the pace of impact and inspire action nationwide,” said Michael D. Smith, director of MBK Alliance and Youth Opportunity Programs at the Obama Foundation.

MBK Alliance is especially dedicated to improving the lives of children in the city of Chicago, where Obama began his political career. A Chicago nonprofit will be selected in the inaugural competition, and other Chicago nonprofits will have the chance to compete for mini-grants of up to $50,000.

The organization will release eligibility requirements and a technical assistance schedule in the coming weeks and will begin accepting applications in March. Interested individuals and organizations are encouraged to sign up to receive updates.