Harper - Letters to a young brother: manifest your destiny

You, Your Friends and Family: Building a Solid Foundation

E-mail: Qualities , from Nas and Curtis Martin

E-mail: My friends at school , from Anthony Anderson

E-mail: Talking to my father

School, Work, and Money: Mining Our Resources

4. Staying in the Game: The Debt Rule

E-mail: Tests

E-mail: Mentors, from Professor Charles Ogletree, Jr.

E-mail: Careers

E-mail: After Graduation , from Jerry Bruckheimer

E-mail: School

E-mail: Salary

E-mail: Cars

The Real Deal: Girls, Sex, and Responsibility

E-mail: What Women Want , from Sanaa Lathan

E-mail: Girl(s)

E-mail: Girl Complications , from Gabrielle Union

E-mail: HIV/AIDS , from Phill Wilson

Dreams and Aspirations: Making It Happen

E-mail: Superstardom , from Venus Williams

E-mail: Questions

E-mail: Smoking and Drinking

E-mail: Gossip

Winning at Your Life: Setting Sail

E-mail: Making Money

E-mail: Life , from Ray J and Barack Obama

E-mail: Mantras????

A number of years ago, someone gave me a copy of Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke. He told me it would change my life and he was right. In it, Rilke responds to the questions of a young man who writes to him asking for advice. The inspirational messages for any young artistor young personare clear throughout the book. To this day I often reread many of its pages and have given the book as a gift countless times. The title, Letters to a Young Poet, as well as my experiences speaking with thousands of young people over the past few years, inspired me to write this book. In the way Rilke served as a mentor to the young poet who wrote to him, I hope to be a mentor to all of the young men Ive been meeting and speaking to. In this book I hope to address many of the questions theyve been asking me.

Letters to a Young Brother is a book I hope will inspire young men and affect positive change in their lives. So many young men today are lost. They want to be inspired, motivated, and guidedthey are almost crying out for itbut often feel that they have nowhere to turn, no one who truly understands their world. Those who love them (parents, uncles/aunts, and family friends) often have trouble communicating with this video game and music-video generation. So every time I have the opportunity to address young audiencesmore than ten thousand middle school, high school, and college students over the past two yearsIve gotten pleas from students, parents, and teachers alike for alternative ideas and goals to playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and wearing platinum Rolexes.

Young men today have been bombarded with images of wealth and success that tell them that buying the hottest car or the most bling-blingin jewelry is what they should be motivated by. There is an overwhelming sales pitch targeted at these young men that subliminally suggests that material goods are the extent of their birthright and are what make them become real men. I want young men to have knowledge of the things that bring them true empowerment: education, a strong sense of purpose, compassion, confidence, and humility, to name a few. Sadly, however, many young men are stuck in a system where they feel they cant get ahead. It is imperative to me that young men become aware of their options. Unfortunately, it isnt always easy for them to speak openly with their family, friends, and those around them. Thats where I come in.

Looking back, I am so grateful for the individuals who contributed to my maturation into manhood. They were people who taught me through word and deed that the world offers all of us a myriad of equally difficult and wonderful choices. My teachers, coaches, parents, and grandparents insisted I could achieve anything I wanted. They taught me that my life was important and that I should not waste it living below my potential.

My grandfather on my mothers side, Harold E. Hill, was from Charleston, South Carolina. All of his grandchildren called him Pop. He had thick glasses and a deep scratchy voice that sounded much like the late great actor Adolph Caesar. Pop educated himself during the 1920s and became a pharmacist. In 1936, he moved to Seneca, South Carolina, and opened Piedmont Pharmacy. It was the only pharmacy for miles where black people could fill their prescriptions and be treated equally. To his customers he was simply Doc. As a boy, I remember sitting at the marble soda fountain in the pharmacy reading comic books, licking Popsicles, and watching him fill prescriptions one by one. He treated every person who walked through the door with love and respect, whether they could afford to pay for their medicine or not. When it was time to go home he would always say, You want another Popsicle, boy? Go on. Grab one out of the cooler. He was a man of few words but infinite dignity.

My grandfather on my fathers side was Harry D. Harper, Sr. All of his grandchildren called him Father. He was the seventh of nine children; four boys, five girls. His dad worked for the public utility in Fort Madison, Iowa, and desperately wanted his children to get a higher education. All of them did that, and more. Since they couldnt afford to go at the same time, each sibling attended college in sequence. After one graduated, he or she would pay for the next sibling to attend college. Miraculously, during Jim Crow segregation, one by one, all four boys became doctors. My grandfather became a family practitioner and returned to his Iowa hometown. In the 1920s, Father set up a practice in a small shack near the railroad tracks in Fort Madison. The white-owned banks refused to allow him to open a savings account, so he literally had to keep the money he earned under his mattress. In 1928, when the stock market crashed, banks froze assets; people were fearful and needed money. Because of the banks racism, my grandfather had access to his money. He reached under his mattress and, along with his brothers, purchased an apartment building that nearly spanned an entire city block in downtown Fort Madison. My grandfather and his brothers converted that building into a state-of-the-art medical clinic and lab with residential apartments above. For a number of years it became the number-one private medical practice in the state of Iowa. And for nearly forty years, until the end of Jim Crow, African-American women from four states would come and give birth in a safe, clean facility built for them and their families.