Panther Baby (20 page)

Tupac also told me he was going to die. “
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ey have to kill me,” he said, “because I’m a Shakur. My only choice is whether I go out like Malcolm X or like Tony Montana from
Scarface.
And I’ve decided I want to go out like Malcolm X.” I told Tupac that he shouldn’t claim an early death as inevitable, especially since he was talking about so many positive things. I had also prophesied my own warrior’s death by age eighteen, and here I was brainstorming with Tupac about film, music, and theater projects as well as arts programs for the youth.

Unfortunately, Tupac’s prophecy would come true eighteen months later. He was released from prison after eight months and immediately began to live and create at a velocity that is impossible to imagine. By the time he was killed, only a few months later, Tupac had recorded hundreds of songs, filmed movies and music videos, performed concerts, written essays and screenplays, created plans for his youth arts centers, and launched the One Nation project to end the dangerous feuding in hip-hop.

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ere was a group of teenage boys in Harlem who called themselves “25 to Life,” because they believed they would be dead or in jail before they were twenty-five. It’s what they saw all around them—fathers, uncles, older brothers, all going to jail or being murdered.
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eir negative projections were reinforced by songs, music videos, and films that showed young black men dying on the streets after trying to survive “by keeping it real.”
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eir belief was memorialized by Tupac’s life, who was killed when he was twenty-five.

I told Tupac death would not take him, yet it did, I thought weeks later as I stood with men from my building helplessly watching the women cry over the murder of young Andre. Another senseless, violent death. Maybe there was more I could have said or done for Tupac, I thought, just as maybe there was more I could have done for Andre. I was helping to run a youth program in downtown Manhattan. What about in Harlem where I live? I thought. If Andre, or perhaps even the boy who shot him, were in a creative arts workshop instead of out partying or doing drugs on the street, then maybe Andre would be alive.

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ese pointless deaths had to stop. I knew I had to do something, I had to fight the battle right here in Harlem where I lived, and I knew what my weapons would be.

I went to Voza with the idea of starting a creative arts and leadership program in Harlem, knowing that the money to support it wouldn’t come from the city. Mayor Giuliani had cut much of the funding for arts programs in the schools. I knew the power of arts to effect change from my experiences of Leavenworth, and more recently from working with City Kids. Voza agreed to help me, and we each took money from our own bank accounts and started IMPACT Repertory
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eatre. Joyce and Alice Arlen were part of our initial founding team. Raymond Johnson and Courtney Bennett soon joined us, bringing their ideas and energy to the founding circle.

IMPACT started in the basement of Minisink Townhouse in Harlem with nine young people, including Jamal Jr., Jad, and Jindai.
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at was more than fourteen years ago, and since then a thousand kids have passed through the program, in the process gaining a sense of themselves as young artists and leaders through music, dance, drama, and film. Many of these young people have since gone to college and grad school and are following careers in medicine, law, education, and counseling. IMPACT alumni come back to teach and mentor current members. We started out with the idea for a program to help individuals and in the process have built a community of artistic change.

IMPACT has presented hundreds of shows at venues ranging from schools, prisons, shelters, and community centers all the way to the Apollo
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eater, New York’s Public
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eater, and the Kennedy Center in Washington DC. Jim Hart, Richard Lewis, and Kirsten Sheridan gave IMPACT a chance to play the role of a gospel choir in the movie
August Rush.
We asked Richard, the producer, and Kirsten, the director, if we could write the song for our segment.
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ey agreed and the song, “Raise It Up,” was nominated for an Academy Award.

Although I was one of the official nominees, along with Tevin
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omas and Charles Mack, I always have contended that the nomination belonged to IMPACT. Our songs are created in a group laboratory, by a staff of young people, which for “Raise It Up” included Ray Jay, Dietrice, Antwon, Michelle, and Chapella.

And the real joy of the Academy Award nomination was standing on stage and performing the song with thirty young people from Harlem accompanied by Jamia Nash at the 2008 Oscars, telecast around the world for millions of people to see.

Bobby Seale once said when he and Huey Newton started the Black Panther Party, they carried both shotguns and law books because those were the weapons of dynamic social change. If they were starting the organization now, however, Panthers would be patrolling the streets with video cameras and laptop computers, because those are the relevant weapons of change for today.

We must continue to fight for our youth and change and, if necessary, wage that fight for change in militant and revolutionary ways. Our young people must know that they stand on the shoulders of people like Rosa Parks, Dr. King, Malcolm X, members of the Black Panther Party, and so many others.
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ey must know that the true motivation for anything has to begin with love and that the right strategy for success includes service and dedication.

Looking back, I am proud of all that I’ve accomplished, all that I’ve done. I made mistakes along the way, but I remained true to my vision and to the tenets instilled in me by Noonie and the other positive influences in my life. I want the same for my children, who I’m proud to say are all in Ivy League schools, getting an education that will prepare them for the future.

I’m reminded of the irony of this turn of events whenever I walk by the large statue of Alma Mater that stands in front of Low Library in the middle of the Columbia campus. She looks down at me with a look that says, “So it’s Professor Joseph now, huh? I remember when you were a young Panther and all you wanted to do was burn this damn place down or die trying. Well, we both survived, and here we are. Maybe there’s a future after all.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Boundless thanks for the hard work and energy of Jared Hoffman, Stephanie Abou, Julian Riley, Lainie Cooke.

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e support and encouragement of Joyce, Reggie Rock Bythewood, Afeni Shakur, Dhoruba Bin Wahad, Malik Yoba, James Schamus, Pastor Michael A. Walrond Jr., Carol Becker, Jana Wright, Nile Rodgers, Felipe Luciano, Kathleen Cleaver, Dr. Joseph Harris, Alice Arlen, Voza Rivers, Scott Frank, Lloyd Williams, Tony Rogers, Steve Adolphus, Jim Hart, Laurie Meadoff, William Mogulescu, Ellis Haizlip, Lewis Cole.

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e family love of Jay Jr., Jindai, Jad, Elba, Luis, Miguel, Myrna, Juan Carlos, Christian, Evelyn, Claire, Bishop Snipes, Aunt Nina, nieces, nephews, grands, Roalh, Mike H., Courtney, Tevin, Charles M., Ray Jay, Dietrice, Luther, Emilia, Sekyiwa, Tony Ricco, Jamala, Glo,
impact
, the Order of the Feather, Tapawingo, Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, Inc., Lewis Hayden no. 69, First Corinthian Baptist Church.

Th
e sacrifice and commitment of Bullwhip, Claudia, Wonda, Mark, Kim, Brad, Diane, Brenda, Itelia, Lynn, Safiyah, Bashir, Malika, Ila, Butch, Tony, Stephanie, Sister Love, Marie, Cynthia, Brenda, Cathy, Frankie, Nicky, J. T., Omar, B. J., Yasmin, Cleo, Billy X, Vanessa, Ashanti, Gaylord, Shep, Tymon, Ronnie, Rahim, Cleo, Dee, Rosemarie, Denise Oliver, Nat Shanks.

And all the members of the Black Panther Party rank and file who were the heart of the movement.

DAVID FENTON

Orphan, activist, subversive, urban guerrilla, FBI fugitive, drug addict, drug counselor, convict, writer, poet, filmmaker, father, husband, professor, youth advocate, and Oscar nominee Jamal Joseph lives with his wife and family in New York City.