Writer Anthony Payton’s Common Ground Podcast, aims to highlight the diversity of our New Hampshire communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet. The goal is to clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. This podcast is produced in partnership with The Granite State News Collaborative and The Marlin Fitzwater Center for Communications at Franklin Pierce University.
Listen to Anthony Payton’s interview with John Rainville, Executive Director of the Manchester Police Athletic League]
When gangs target kids for recruitment, they’re looking for youth who need acceptance from their peers and guidance from someone older. Unfortunately, Manchester and many urban neighborhoods across America have an abundance of those kids.
They seek to be respected by their peers, and some will go to any lengths to attain stature. When they see their peers wearing the latest fashion and newest phone, it piques their interest. They come from homes where money is tight and embrace a culture that prioritizes materialism. This is a toxic combination for kids in those environments and people in those communities.
We hope that, if not from the guidance of their household, they learn social behavior from teachers and counselors. And we also hope that those kids will have some positive peer influences.
But how does that kid take a mentor seriously when sharing his clothes with his siblings and living in a household below the poverty line?
It’s hard to expect these kids to be invested in classwork and furthering their education. External problems like hunger and economics can make the difference between a kid just going to school and a kid doing well in school and mapping their future. And don’t forget, there are bullies in rough neighborhoods, some with weapons.
These are the overlooked but tumultuous bubbles that some New Hampshire kids live in.
It’s not likely they’ll tell their parents that their gaming friend is also a drug dealer whom others want to harm, and they hang out with him almost daily. This increases the likelihood that your child’s affiliation will link him to his friend’s criminal behavior. Even worse, your child can be physically harmed by rival dealers or rival gangs just by hanging out with that same friend.
And in case you haven’t figured it out by now; statistically, these kids' home life and environment don’t typically churn out success.
Positive youth programs have positively impacted kids' lives, increasing their chances of success. At-risk youth faces criminal behavior, teen pregnancy, suicide and drug abuse issues. According to federal research, mentoring by positive adult role models and older peers can prevent those negative outcomes.
In the second part of this series, “Avoiding Prison or an Early Death,” I continue to highlight the organizations connecting this demographic to mentors from their communities. Programs like Big Brothers and Big Sisters of New Hampshire (BBBS NH) and the Manchester Police Athletic League (MPAL) look to bring positivity and structure to these young lives via mentorship and programs. They align youth with men and women who have been on the other side of the tracks and can now speak from an honest and experienced place.
Below: MPAL Kids
Points of intervention
Robert Leone is the recruitment and corporate partnership manager for BBBS NH. A single mother raised Robert in the housing projects of Cambridge, Mass., in the 70s and early 80s. Although he went to a Catholic parochial school, he was still a “project kid” and had to deal with everything that went along with it. Peer pressure took Robert off course, and he followed the crowd, becoming an at-risk youth himself. Robert also had to fight and stand up when his bike was stolen or someone threatened his safety. He dealt with everything that a project kid endures, in addition to people addressing him like, “Hey, white boy.” Robert was determined not to be the soft one.
At Robert’s high school, his teacher was a colonel from the U.S. Army Reserves. He told Robert that he was lucky to have ended up at that high school, and then told Robert that he was joining the Army.
Luckily, unlike so many others, Robert eventually got on the right path as soon as he joined the military. Many times, this isn’t the case. Big homies, as they’re called, don’t have the lil’ homies' best interest at heart. This is especially true if the big homies lead a life of crime themselves. In those situations, they give the lil’ homies drugs and guns to transport. They know the court system will be lenient on the younger guys. They’re the negative influence and see the younger boys and girls as pawns to help them thrive and succeed. This is at the expense of the younger kids.
Despite that, the lil’ homie thrives on attention. As Tupac famously rapped, “I hung around with the thugs/And even though they sold drugs/They showed a young brother love.”
When you look at the mechanics of BBBS NH, the same elements are in play: the love is there. The older youth lead the younger in the most positive and productive ways.
The BBBS NH provides a place for young boys and girls to be paired with a mentor that can help get them through periods of vulnerability-and they create a positive model for these young people to follow. They make a culture of empowering New Hampshire’s youth and have taken mentorship to great heights, including one-on-one mentoring, workplace mentoring, and “Bigs with Badges,” which pairs these kids with members of law enforcement and other first responders.
There are many programs at BBBS NH that target kids with unique challenges. PRISM (Pride, Respect, Identity, Safety, Mentoring) supports kids who identify as LGBTQ – a demographic with higher chances of struggling with mental health and discrimination. Kids who’ve experienced trauma also have a chance to pair with mentors that can help them through their experiences. While Mentor 2.0 places emphasis on low-income and first-generation high-schoolers.
BBBS NH has served nearly 600 Granite State children. But the impact could be greater: there are currently 232 children waiting for a mentor. These programs need community support from all of us. You – yes you – can make a difference by becoming a mentor or donating money during their “Thankful Giving” campaign, which is running now. Building Respect and Community
From the outside, you’d think the colossal building on the corner of Beech and Lake street in Manchester is a police academy or substation with a formidable facade. But inside, there’s an elite-level boxing gym, a well-kept kitchen used for culinary arts classes, and a huge area for wrestling and Aikido classes. This is where MPAL looks to serve the 8,600 at-risk youth within a mile of the facility and beyond.
John Rainville, executive director of MPAL, explains that there is magic when officers meet and interact with community members and their children. This is how respect is built, and this is a way for people to have a sense of community. In addition, he loves watching the kids grow a sense of pride and confidence through athletics. MPAL also hosts court diversion programs for first-time offenders. This program gives kids a chance at not having a criminal record or any blemishes in their background. Ultimately, they will sit in front of a panel to tell their story. The panel looks for consequences and atonement.
John continues to let the kids know they don’t have to give in to those influences on the streets.
Officer Ryan Hardy helps train the kids in boxing and other athletic programs that MPAL offers. He believes familiarity is key in building relationships with these kids, and he sometimes brings his own children into the facility to interact with the MPAL kids. He prefers those kids to see the human side of him. He lets them know he’s more than just a uniform and even proves this by sometimes showing up in casual wear.
Ryan, who has been at MPAL for three years, loves seeing how the kids come in versus how they leave. Whether they came in a bit rowdy or timid, they leave with discipline, respect for others, and respect for themselves. Ryan believes in not holding their hands and letting them lead themselves; eventually, they will lead others.
These programs, BBBS NH, MPAL, and MYTURN ( another organization in Manchester dedicated to helping at-risk youth that I’ve covered previously), are all viable organizations that can change the life course of our young residents free of charge.
Robert of BBBS NH knows this first hand. When he returned from the military, he began working with a mentor who was a successful businessman. Robert rose through the ranks in sales and finances, but he felt the industry stripped away at his soul. Now, he was in a position to provide the same type of guidance and mentorship that he had. In the same way he struck gold in terms of interventions and support, he wanted to give back to others in hopes of positively influencing their lives. Now 52, Robert is in a great place in his life and in his role. Within his position, he’s helping those kids and meeting great people who also want to give back.
The outlook seems grim, but we can give families and kids hope. People tend to look down on immigrants and the culture they’ve brought to America, but I believe we need to adopt some of the community and family values they arrive at our shores with. Let each one teach one. We all need to get involved and start raising villages.
These stories are part of The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet, clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. They are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
In part 1 of the series, “Avoiding Prison or an Early Death,” I write about my experiences growing up as at-risk youth in Brooklyn, New York, and how decades later, in a different state, communities are facing these same issues.
In this column, I look at an effective organization in Manchester, MyTurn.
MyTurn gives at-risk and disadvantaged youth the chance to focus on their goals and succeed in life. It provides mentorship and safe spaces for these young men and women to gain the skills and knowledge critical to becoming upwardly mobile members of society. I also spoke with a mentor who’s been involved in the criminal justice system and was at-risk himself.
RELATED STORY ⇒ MyQ&A with Allison Joseph of MyTurn, an organization promoting mentorship and safe spaces for at-risk kids Click the podcast player above to listen, or read the transcript below.
I was 12 years old when I saw my first dead body. “Calvin” wasn’t much older than me, and he lay there with two bullet wounds through his head that slightly protruded from the other side. I can only remember trying to avoid that fate, even though sometimes it felt inevitable. The more gun violence and death I saw and heard about, the more numb I became to it. At that age, in that environment, you don’t appreciate life and death.
Homicides later grew out of control in New York City, and soon our borough had one of the highest murder rates in the country. Most of these feuds resulted from drug dealing disputes and all of the ancillary parts therein: jealousy, turf disputes, and revenge on enemies. Our life expectancies shrank with every homicide that happened around us. To the average person, it sounds unbelievable. But if you asked the at-risk youth who live in those conditions, they’d likely tell you that murder was a normal part of their daily lives.
For my generation, economics was the motivating factor for violence. And for many young residents, the lack of father figures and good role models almost sealed their fates. However, my story isn’t usual. I’m from a two-parent home in those housing projects. Still, I later became a significant player in some of the despair in my neighborhood. My parents held jobs and put us through summer prep schools. We had bikes and toys for Christmas. Yet – and still, once our stable and comfortable home was shaken by addiction and illness, I took to the streets to “help out.” Soon, that survival instinct became corrupted by money, power, greed, and the desire for respect.
And the financial and material success one had from an illegal lifestyle can leave an aftertaste on the person who wants to return to society on the right path. This can spiral into a vicious cycle of risks and shortcuts, leading to incarceration and being released back into society.
Some of my dearest childhood friends come from homes that foster chaos. Years later, those children became menaces to society that other at-risk youth idolized, and so the cycles continue.
Murder, revenge killings, Rikers Island, a prison sentence. How’s that for a school-to-prison pipeline?
I have friends and family in the social work field who would be searching for the points of intervention. But I believe it should never have to get to this point.
I’m a big proponent of utilizing people who’ve changed their lives for the good as a viable option for mentorship and gang mediation. Those men and women can become a point of intervention before the criminal justice system steps in.
Carl Connor is a mentor with MYTURN who knows the streets of Manchester all too well. His home life was the typical story that engulfs at-risk youth. In 2020, Carl faced the biggest fear that every parent in violent neighborhoods could ever imagine: his 17-year-old son was gunned down, which left Carl’s grandson without a father. Now 40, Carl reflects on his life and talks about important moments. His mother and grandparents raised him, and his father went away to federal prison while Carl was still in kindergarten. After his release, his father would eventually die from a heroin overdose.
Like most young kids who face similar circumstances, Carl went down the wrong path. Time stops for no one. Carl eventually began selling and using drugs himself while having his first child at 18 and a second child at 20. During that period, he’d lose a cousin to the streets, and his best friend was shot and killed over drugs.
After serving 11 years in federal prison, Carl was released in May 2019 and hasn’t looked back since. As fate would have it, Carl was a DoorDash driver who made a delivery to Allison Joseph, Executive Director of MYTURN. This meeting would officially spark his career in mentoring at-risk youth from Manchester
Although the violence in Manchester is not on the same scale as in Brooklyn or Boston, the recipe for these disasters is all the same. And the pain of seeing a loved one inside of a casket or laying dead in the streets like I saw Calvin and countless friends due to drugs and violence is a feeling that transcends geography.
If the ’80s and 90’s provided more options for young folks in my neighborhood, maybe things would've turned out differently for me. At that time, the programs offered didn’t seem to be as assertive or spot-on as programs like MYTURN. This is where I can see the effectiveness of this program. The program has gaming, recording studios for budding rap stars, and pizza parties. Those are the things that resonate with those kids. These are activities that they love, which keep them off of the streets and out of chaotic homes.
And just as important, those battle-tested veterans from the streets, like Carl, serve as mentors. When those kids see a man or woman who’s walked their path, their message tends to hit differently. Seeing the Carls of the world can show kids that their dreams are tangible, and they can get off the path they’re currently on. MYTURN catches most of these kids at a pivotal moment where they can recalibrate and make those prosocial adjustments.
In addition, this program helps with continuing education, job development, job training, and assisting youth in overcoming barriers that have been put before them. This is great for the kid who becomes frustrated with a lack of money and stability and uses his innate entrepreneurial skills to become a drug dealer.
I know this feeling all too well.
Any New Hampshire resident should be open to supporting initiatives like these. Getting involved can potentially change the life course of the young trigger-man who’s about to take another life here on the streets of Manchester. His victim could wind up being a relative, a friend, or like Carl, your own child.
If you have a skill set, formal training, or life skills that you can pass on to others, I highly recommend contacting MYTURN should you feel philanthropic with your time. I believe the entire state should embrace programs like these because when we enrich the lives of our young residents, we build up our communities brick by brick.
These stories are part of The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet, clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. They are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
This interview is Part 1 of an occasional series by The Common Ground Initiative called “Avoiding Prison or an Early Death,” where I will write about my experiences growing up as at-risk youth in Brooklyn, New York, and how decades later, in a different state, communities are facing these same issues.
To kick off the series, I looked at an effective organization in Manchester, MyTurn.
MyTurn gives at-risk and disadvantaged youth the chance to focus on their goals and succeed in life. It provides mentorship and safe spaces for these young men and women to gain the skills and knowledge critical to becoming upwardly mobile members of society. I spoke with MY TURN’s executive director, Allison Joseph, for The Common Ground Initiative’s podcast in August.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity. You can listen to the entire podcast by clicking the play button above. RELATED STORY ⇒ For at-risk kids, seeing death and despair up close starts young; intervention must start young, too
Anthony Payton: Hello, Allison. Please tell our audience a little bit about yourself.
Allison Joseph: Hi Anthony. Thanks for having me here today. As you said, my name is Alison Joseph. I'm the Executive director of MyTurn Incorporated. I've been working with MyTurn for 15 years, just celebrated my 15-year anniversary, and currently, I live in Bedford with my husband and my two daughters.
Anthony Payton: Well, you do a lot of great work in a community. I see you everywhere, especially on social media. What got you into the line of work that you're in, and you can explain that as well?
Allison Joseph: Sure. Yeah, so that is a great question. It's definitely complex. There's sort of a lot of reasons that push me toward a career like this, a career where I get the opportunity and the privilege of helping other people achieve their goals. I think it started when I was very young. I've always kind of been sort of aware of the fact that the situation you're born into sort of determines all of the opportunities you're gonna have over the course of your life, and you really have no control over what situation you're born into later on, or grew up a little bit, had the opportunity to volunteer over at Kids Cal and that really made me feel like that was the kind of environment that I wanted to be in, if you're familiar with that.
Anthony Payton: So Allison, how does MyTurn benefit businesses and communities?
Allison Joseph: Okay, so that's really sort of our specialty is serving the businesses and communities in the areas that we operate. Our core services revolve around workforce development and increasing financial stability for the families we serve. So we are constantly providing information around labor market data to the young people that we serve and even to the adults we serve, helping them identify what careers are locally in demand. So, you know what, what we're training for in Franklin New Hampshire is probably not what we're training for in Manchester, and might be different than Rochester. We're really looking at how we can best serve the businesses in the communities in which we operate, while also providing access to high-quality in-demand careers for the people that we're serving.
Anthony Payton: So if I were to grant a wish, let's say right now, how would you help at-risk youth? If you were a government official today, you became a government official, what steps would you take to help those at-risk youth?
Allison Joseph: I think the first thing that I would do if I had my sort of magic wand and unlimited resources and approval would be to expand access to mental health care, reduce wait times for people in crisis to be able to access crisis intervention care. Something that I've seen changed dramatically over my 15 years at MY TURN is the young people we work with, their willingness to accept that maybe they need some assistance in becoming sort of healthy in that area of their lives. And it's heartbreaking to see somebody who needs help, who wants help, who's ready to receive help and have them not be able to get that help in a timely fashion. So I think that is probably the first thing that I would do with my magic wand.
Anthony Payton: That's great. I support that all the way. Well, thank you for coming here with us, Allison, and joining the Common Ground Initiative. But I have one more question. We're kind of like foodies here. We're kind of like foodies here at the Common Ground Initiative. So you're at home right now, you're hungry, you open up your refrigerator, you already put something together or you're going out. What are you doing and why are we eating it?
Allison Joseph: Oh, geez. Okay. So that's a great question because we are all foodies at MY TURN too. Like food is a big conversation. We start talking about what we're gonna eat for lunch at like 9:30 a.m. Gosh, you know, it varies. Some days it's tacos. My lunch spot lately has been Restoration Cafe in Manchester. I get the Mexican corn salad, the energized smoothie. It's the bomb. We share it in the office. So shout out to Restoration Cafe for keeping me full.
Anthony Payton: I need to get there because I've been hearing a lot of talk about that place and I need to get over there and become a part of it. Well, thank you so much Allison, again for joining us. We hope to see you soon and collaborate somehow. Sure. Our work will intersect.
Allison Joseph: Thank you for having me, Anthony. It was a pleasure to be here.
These stories are part of The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet, clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. They are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
Take a stroll around Manchester, and you’ll likely pass by some beautiful Hispanic restaurants and shops. Once those smells and flavors pass my nose, my mouth waters instantaneously. I see hard-working people, and whether American-born or newly arrived, they’re strong in their cultures, music, foods and dance. This adds to the diversity of New Hampshire, and I think it should be a welcomed addition. Sometimes, American citizens forget that somewhere in their history, their ancestors had a similar story of coming to America and carving out a path for themselves.
While New Hampshire is still a predominantly white state, we are becoming more diverse like the rest of the country. As these communities grow, they need to have a representation and stories in both media and popular culture pertinent to them, their narrative and their voice. This representation needs to run the entire spectrum of news and entertainment, from newsrooms to beat reporters. There should be a pathway for them to have a seat at the decision-making table. Their representation would likely show us stories about those local residents contributing to their communities, as opposed to the countless stories of illegal immigration.
Of course, good-hearted and talented journalists and storytellers from different ethnic and racial groups are looking to chronicle those neighborhoods. Still, it should be done with the influences and voices of those communities. It should be a combined effort with the community and journalists. Having that story reported on by community members will help ensure that their story is told in the best, most accurate way. Leaving those portrayals and narratives solely to those who aren’t in those communities can create offensive stereotypes. They need to have a say in their narrative and be able to define who they are to the rest of the world.
Ernesto Burden is the vice president at Yankee Publishing, Inc., publisher of 603 Diversity, N.H Business Review, N.H Magazine and N.H Home. He said that diversity of all kinds in media on the storyteller side is critical to providing comprehensive, insightful and empathetic coverage of communities. And at the same time, diversity represented in those stories is also crucial to feelings of inclusion, the understanding of shared identity, and to a sense of belonging in a place.
As a Black American, I recognize this need and relate to it all too well. I remember, as a child, the news portrayed Black people in the most negative light. I watched riots where Black people were all lumped into a group and painted as “looters” by the media coverage. In similar situations, the media would take pictures and footage of white people and label them “protestors.”
Those labels had a long-lasting impact. It gave the impression that every Black person was at those events to capitalize on the moment. It didn’t tell the story of the groups of people who were fed up and felt hopeless. It made people forget that protesting and emotions don’t come with a handbook. That brush of inequality was constantly dipped in the paint of fear and the inability to relate. The power of stereotypes and slanted coverage can be massive. And as the saying goes, perception is bigger than reality. These portrayals pave the road for misunderstanding, hate and intolerance. What better way to desensitize the public from draconian laws and policies that stifle the progress of communities because they are usually portrayed in a negative light?
In my experience, stereotypes of Black Americans have had a long-lasting impact. When a person from another race and culture constantly sees the images of young Black men and women who are loud, violent and lawless, they tend to project that image onto the entire race. If they happen to run into one of those stereotypes live and in person, it confirms what they’ve been fed by the media. Meanwhile, there are droves of young Black Americans graduating college, starting businesses, tending to their families and defending this country. These are images that you don’t see.
Ten years later, the young child who watched these images on television becomes a police officer, attorney or judge. It would be hard to say that they don’t carry these biases with them once they gain power. It can thwart their decision-making. Like, was he reaching for a gun, or was he reaching for his wallet?
Things have improved, but there’s still a long way to go.
Jasmine Torres, community and education engagement coordinator at NH PBS, feels that small steps lead to bigger changes. It would be incredibly useful for media organizations to team up with Latinos who express interests and who are looking to make the integral changes of equity in the media, she says.
Whenever I watch the news on immigration, I see images of people illegally sneaking into the country. But is that the only way that they get in? It’s not often that I see images of groups of new immigrants being sworn in as American citizens with ear-to-ear smiles and tears of joy. I don’t see enough of the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the grand opening of the new Mexican restaurant in town. Nor do I hear those stories about the immigrant on a scaffold on the 50th floor of some ritzy building cleaning the windows with three children and a wife at home. What we see and hear matters. Who’s telling the stories makes the difference.
Diversity at high levels in newsrooms and entertainment can help ensure the representation of an invested voice. Hitting the mark is much easier when you narrate your own story.
With the help of local newsrooms, media outlets, community stakeholders and politicians, I believe we can begin to turn the tides. I would love to see internships and outreach to underserved and underrepresented communities.
Oscar Villacis, CEO at First Gen Multimedia, believes the Latino community needs to be conscious of the power they collectively have. And their reach should eventually touch newsrooms, production staff, and writers.
Ultimately, I hope this issue opens eyes and brings unity amongst all of our residents. Having diversity doesn't mean wiping out others, and diversity should never be an intimidating topic, especially when what’s being sought is simply fair and equitable representation.
He who tells the narrative gets to set the narrative – so it’s time that our media reflected our state.
This column is part of The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet, clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
RELATED STORY AND PODCAST ⇒ The Tapestry of We: A Q&A with Grace Kindeke
There seems to be a universal friendly gesture, or hidden code if you will, among Black people here in New Hampshire. It's the eye contact and head nod. Whether shopping for food, weaving through the aisles in Walmart, or sitting in traffic, that head nod means acknowledgment.
And yet, Black Americans in New Hampshire and across the country aren’t a monolith. Although our roots at some point land in Africa, our roads here to America have been quite different. Mine were through birth, but some took the long road of leaving turbulence in their homeland to wind up here on American soil. There are thriving communities of refugee populations here in New Hampshire.
As a Black male born in America, I know the stereotypes associated with me when it comes to the beautiful African diaspora that's spread across the world. It has been told to me on occasion that when Africans (or any Black immigrants) begin to head to the U.S.A for more opportunities, they’re told to stay away from Black Americans. We’re supposed to be stagnant, abrasive and unapproachable. Conversely, many Black Americans would view African immigrants as thinking that they were far superior.
When I was younger, that sweeping statement used to bother me. It was tough hearing these opinions from people who shared the same skin color and hair texture as me. I felt those immigrants would surely see the negative side of what America would have in store for them, and they’d have an understanding of the conditioning blanketed on people of color here on this land. I felt like they were only focusing on benefitting from the richness of America, a lot of which was built on the backs of my ancestors. They were not focused on the injustices that they were likely to see and feel, regardless of the distinction that they wanted.
Luckily, my evolution showed me what open-mindedness and empathy were. That allowed me to see beautiful cultures unite and mix. Interacting and working with immigrants and their children opened my eyes to their struggles. I began to see the younger generations of African immigrants intertwined with some of the positive sides of Black American culture. The BIPOC community in New Hampshire is booming from border to border. Younger and older residents are making their marks in every sector, including business and politics. Their alliances are from all races, genders and economic backgrounds. It’s a beautiful thing to witness. Many of these movers and shakers are African immigrants or their offspring.
Hamisi David Juma came to America as a refugee from his native land of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Before coming to America he stayed at a refugee camp in Tanzania for six years. He finally reached our shores on May 10, 2010, at the age of 25. Hamisi understands the struggles of immigrants who come to America.
Hamisi credits a Black American friend of his with encouraging him and motivating him to continue this work when things were rough.
“I’ve been here for 10 years, but during the first five years, I was lost. I came here with my wife and kids at 24 years old. Back home, I was a professional soccer player. Once I got here, I had to work in order for my family to survive,” Hamisi said.
Hamisi didn’t have to deal with the stereotypes and tension from the Black Americans that he encountered.
“When I came over, I heard a lot about Black Americans not liking African immigrants. I didn’t know why. Once I began working side by side with Black Americans, I realized the love was there,” he said.
Many Black Americans showed him how to integrate and stood up for him if he came into conflict with other people.
Conflict resolution is something that comes naturally to Hamisi. He’s a liaison for the Manchester school district, working with bilingual families. He became a bridge between schools and immigrant families that may have language barriers. In this capacity, Hamisi helps those families to understand their situations and helps with translations.
Hamisi also runs a non-profit organization, “Safari Youth Club,” which empowers refugee and immigrant youth to reach their goals through arts and sports. The club, which is a registered nonprofit, also supports immigrant families.
“Our job is to help them understand their environment and the systems in the U.S., which helps make their integration easier,” Hamisi says. “My community trusts me for this transition. Once they arrive, they need a liaison that they can trust.”
Hamisi feels that this is great for New Hampshire because he hates to see immigrants coming over and not understanding the system. The next thing you know, they can be breaking laws, feuding with neighbors, etc.
Hamisi feels that assimilation and adoption of American cultures should be done carefully.
“Our youth is being integrated, and in some ways, they begin to shed their African culture and pick up the negative sides of not just American culture, but also Black American culture, which involves prison and crime. Some of these youths just don’t have the discipline,” Hamisi said.
He believes that there are plenty of Black American role models who get put to the side by the media. So instead, some immigrant youth pick up on the sensationalism of the street culture. Having the Safari Youth Club provides the balance that immigrant youth need.
“Back in the refugee camp, I was a youth supervisor and now realize that some of the same problems exist. However, in the U.S it’s more dangerous,” Hamisi said. “There’s much more marijuana use also. Teaching the youth about STDs was one of the biggest problems at the camp. Here in America, they’re dealing with gun possession, drug dealing and a lot more harsh things as opposed to that refugee camp.”
Hamisi connects with the youth and his community because he understands their lifestyles and problems. Refugee and immigrant agencies do a great job of welcoming new Americans. But after a few months, many immigrants feel abandoned as the agencies direct their limited resources toward even newer arrivals.
“We understand. It’s easier for your people to explain the importance of credit and paying bills. Like, what are the consequences of not paying a bill?” said Hamisi.
He believes that having partnerships with Americans can be beneficial for both parties. Americans would begin to feel more comfortable and immigrants would begin to feel more welcomed here.
The work that Hamisi is doing helps our communities here in New Hampshire. These acts are selfless, taxing and don't get the big newscast production that other organizations get. However, his work keeps our young New Hampshire residents focused and on the right path.
This program could be the difference between an immigrant winding up at Valley Street jail, or thriving here on American soil.
This column is part of The Common Ground Initiative which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet, clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community. These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
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⇒ RELATED STORY: Q+A with Schonna Green, Manchester’s director of homeless initiatives
Conversing with someone who’s distraught about being on the verge of homelessness is deep water to tread. Speaking with people who happen to be already homeless can be just as overwhelming. I’ve talked with once prideful people who are so insecure about their hygiene, attire and overall situation that they avoid eye contact. Problems like these are intensified tenfold when children are involved.
Behind closed doors, far away from the average citizen, a few hot-button topics are being discussed and legislated on. Our housing crisis, homelessness, affordable housing and saving people who are one paycheck away from being put out on the street have been on the front stage.
I remember the N.H State Troopers closing homeless encampments and clearing out the residents. Although I was on my way to work and leaving the comfort of my own apartment, I still felt the human emotion of sympathy. The homeless of all ages and situations had taken refuge near the Federal court building on Chestnut and Merrimack Streets. Children's strollers and shopping carts were filled with clothing and personal effects, painting a grim picture, and the stench of hopelessness was in the air. A few feet from that, tents were erected to help deal with the weather.
It was utterly gut-wrenching. A handful of these people were suffering from physical ailments, and some of them were clearly going through a mental health crisis. There had to be a better way to deal with this problem. I asked myself, “How did the city get to this point?” Years later, the problem was just as intense. You could go to the Amoskeag Bridge or Veterans Park on Elm street at any given time and find communities of people living on the street dealing with mental health and substance abuse issues. I’m a New Yorker; I know what homelessness looks like in a major city, and I never thought these problems would be here in New Hampshire.
Our city decided to call in a troubleshooter—a problem solver with a proven track record of making a difference. Enter Schonna Green. Schonna was brought in as the city's first director of homeless initiatives and officially took the reins on April 15, 2021.
There have been some great articles done on Schonna, but my take is from a personal experience. Anthony Harris, who many people know from his run for alderman in Manchester, introduced me to Schonna while he and I were building our own nonprofit organization. It only took me a few seconds of listening to her before I decided that this woman was the truth. She gave us valuable insight and feedback on organization building.
Schonna loved my work and invited me to be on her media team. I’ve worked beside her on both a business and personal level, and I’ve watched some of her thoughts turn into reality. As a media team member for her H.O.P.E (Housing Opportunities Promote Empowerment) Initiative, I’ve had the pleasure of watching Schonna up close. She thrives on her own and within the team environment. I’ve watched Schonna gain the trust and respect of powerful men and women in this city, and I believe they saw past her skin color and gender. Seeing a Black woman in this position and having this impact in New Hampshire was inspiring. She’s paving the road for my 8-year-old daughter.
Most importantly, Schonna’s work is having a real impact. Nearly 300 housing units are being planned; a hotel and former police station are being turned into affordable housing. She helped launch the “The Heart of Humanity” also known as, “The Spiritual Initiative 2022,” which encourages local churches and faith-based organizations to pool together resources. This will connect and centralize faith organizations, nonprofits, businesses, and communities to assist in everything from substance abuse to helping homeless veterans.
Schonna's heart and motives were crafted as a young girl from a loving and self-described privileged home. Watching her parents prepare turkeys for less fortunate families, she learned to always give to people who didn’t have much at that early age. Her father, during Christmas, would buy gloves and give them out to impoverished communities. Schonna says, “Think about people who are not as fortunate. Be a good steward and think about humanity.”
She was built for this line of work.
Yet and still, Schonna will be the first to give credit to the collective. She’s the epitome of a team player. She insisted that the pictures provided for media endeavors be of our entire group; every hand involved deserved credit. Even though she clearly facilitated these first-of-their-kind New Hampshire initiatives, she wanted us all to share in these moments.
This selflessness has been showered onto the likes of Anthony Harris and myself. To speak about what she’s helped us accomplish in our lives – the guidance, tutelage, and overall support – would take another column in and of itself. Anthony and I have built our board of directors, formed powerful alliances, and locked in on what we need to do to move our organization forward. I would be negligent not to mention Schonna’s imprint. Her stories of building a successful nonprofit from a small grant, and the caveats and nuances, have stuck with us. Watching her work has been an experience that may exceed what’s taught in college classrooms.
Improving the lives of our neighbors and communities is essential to me as a resident of this city and state. It’s crucial because these initiatives help the quality of life. It should resonate with everyone because we all have children and loved ones who walk the streets of Manchester. Our children are very intuitive, and they can begin to sense what despair and uncertainty look like. In addition, homelessness and unstable housing increase the risk of health problems and criminal behavior. We don’t want our children to witness this.
There’s still a lot to be done in this city regarding homelessness, affordable housing, and substance abuse. The change that Schonna put into motion doesn’t happen overnight, and it takes the community and businesses to get on board. Politicians and landlords must stand with the community, modernize practices and put people over profits. It’s an effort that will have sustainability should all hands be on deck. This is an opportunity for everyone to get involved, from business owners to community stakeholders.
Schonna not only made a difference in the housing issue, but she’s also made a difference in the lives of men like me. I recently drove past the hotel on second street and Queen City Avenue, which is about to be condo-ized; it reminds me of the great work that Schonna’s done. When I walk past a group of homeless people, it reminds me of the initiatives she’s set in motion. Now, when I speak with someone on the verge of homelessness due to high rent, I can offer them some good news that I know to be concrete.
That is what I call hope.
Anthony Payton is a freelance writer and father living in Manchester. He can be reached at anthony.payton@collaborativenh.org. This story is part of his project, The Common Ground Initiative, which aims to highlight the diversity of our communities with stories of people the average Granite Stater might not get to see or meet. The goal is to clarify misconceptions and find the threads that bind us all together as one New Hampshire community.
These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative as part of our race and equity project. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
At eight years old, my daughter loves to have her hair fashioned in ways that suit a young Black girl full of expression. She’ll have long braided extensions that range in colors from blue, to pink, to purple. They’re bright, bold, and a bit sassy, just like her. It swings freely, and she can style them as need be. Sometimes she’ll have her natural hair braided, and other times, she’ll wear a head wrap when she’s in a rush or busy. (Yes, the hectic and busy life of an 8-year old). She’ll have hairpins, the best smelling hair products, and hairbands to keep everything up to her standards. Her hair is important. And as the dad of a young Black girl in New Hampshire, I make sure that she knows she’s pretty and smart even if she shaved all of her hair off. She’s figuring out which hairstyles she likes best, and I love hearing about her latest choices and thoughts. I don’t even get upset when she shoots down my suggestions.
There’s more than what meets the eyes regarding Black hair. It’s an expression, it’s pride, and it’s a showing of our culture. Most of us aren’t born with the silky texture that blows in the wind like those shampoo commercials on television. What we have, we wear with pride; through it, we display the heritage and roots we were born with.
But the topic of our hair too often is the source of office gossip and bias in professional settings. Oftentimes, there’s a general stereotype about Black hair. People tend to feel as though afros, braids, and dreadlocks may be dirty or unprofessional. I’ve heard from friends who’ve been asked how come they didn’t just wear a “regular” hairstyle like their co-workers. Black people – women in particular – learn to navigate around those microaggressions. Admiration and curiosity can become intertwined with unintentional but subconscious bias. So those questions of, “Can I touch your hair?” Or, “How long does it take to get like that?” can become tiresome; one can easily become frustrated. I don't think that a work colleague should have to hold a press conference about her hairstyle.
Talk to just about anyone who sports natural hair in a work setting, and you’ll probably hear stories about how they were made to feel dirty, different, and out of place. What was once celebrated in our culture sometimes has to be hidden or compromised in the name of professionalism and conformity.
From a very early age, Black people were taught –by society, media, and sometimes their own families– that their hair was unruly and needed to be tamed. Even today, a person in the Black community with hair that isn’t as coarse is said to have “good hair.” And again, this is said and demonstrated by society as well.
Once upon a time, in many Black homes, women would go to extreme measures to straighten their hair with harsh chemicals and hot combs. Old school hot combs would sit on a burning stove until red hot, and then it was used to comb and straighten hair. I can still remember the smell of burning hair, all in the name of trying to meet a eurocentric standard of beauty.
Whether natural or extended, that hair represents strength, struggle, love, and perseverance. It represents generations of pride amidst the gravest circumstances like the civil rights era. It represents the intimacy of friends and family braiding each other's hair with their hands. It represents the strength of a young college student, athlete, or hip-hop artist in the community. It’s bold enough to say that our culture and hairstyles will be celebrated in our communities if not by society.
Let’s be honest, folks; America has a long history of anti-Blackness. It’s why the darker-skinned enslaved people were sent to work in the fields while the lighter-skinned enslaved people worked in the master’s house. It’s why Jim Crow laws were a way of life. Anti-Black sentiment spread throughout churches, the military, and every American institution. This history of anti-Blackness isn’t just exclusive to America, nor am I speaking for everyone.
Sometimes it feels as if for every step of progress that we make regarding race and inclusion, a situation arises that puts us two steps back. It’s 2022, and we are still having these conversations about Black hair.
Examples of this are found in workplaces, schools, even job fairs. * 17-year-old Asia Simo was kicked off the cheerleading team because her hair was too thick for a “half-up, half-down” requirement. * De Andre Arnold was told that he couldn't walk at graduation unless he cut his dreadlocks, and his school cited culturally insensitive regulations and policies as the reason. * A young high school wrestler, Andrew Johnson, was forced to cut his hair in the middle of a match. He was told that his hair was unnatural and too long and had 90 seconds to cut it before being disqualified. So he had it cut in what I feel was an alarming video. He was clearly emotional during the haircut and reportedly depressed afterward.
You don’t have to look too far to see us being left out, dismissed, and forgotten. Take the most recent situation with the N.H Job Corps. Students of color were turned away from a professional hairstyling event (held by the N.H Job Corps) because stylists didn’t know how to work on their hair. This would ultimately lead to the firing of a staff member and turn into a hornet’s nest of allegations of a discriminatory culture within their organization.
We are just beginning to see lawmakers addressing hair discrimination. The C.R.O.W.N (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural hair) act has passed in more than a dozen states. As of this writing, New Hampshire, H.B 359 would make it harder to discriminate against a person based on hairstyles relative to a person's ethnicity.
Did we really need to take it to this level? We’ve read this book before, and you know how this story goes. If you consider yourself an open-minded person, regardless of social views or political stance, you know this unfair bias exists deep down.
If you didn’t know that Black hair and natural hairstyles were such a topic, I welcome you into this conversation, and I hope you walk away from it with some clarity and understanding.
To all of those beautiful women and girls with unruly hair…You've been lied to, and your hair is gorgeous.
These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative as part of our race and equity project. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.
POINT OF VIEW COMMON GROUND INITIATIVE PODCAST
As we step foot into this new year and I continue crafting my goals for the year, I decided to reach back to a few young men from my past to get an update on where they are in life. I wanted to see if there was any advice that I could offer to them, or possibly have an exchange of ideas that could benefit us all. It turns out that they were doing well, but that wasn’t the case for some of the younger generation.
If I were to craft a blueprint to success for my younger self, or for the Black youth in New Hampshire or anywhere for that matter, it would sound something like this…
There isn’t anything that will remove the struggles your lineage has suffered; however, please don’t get caught up in victimhood or submerge yourself in the ills of the past. That can stunt your growth, and it won’t allow you to blossom to the fullest of your potential. You’ll be holding onto the anger and mistrust of our ancestors and I truly don’t believe those are the emotions that they’d want from us in this day and time. Our history should never be forgotten, but it’s up to your generation to use it as fuel for success. We have too much sweat and blood spilled on American soil for us to stay stagnant. You have to not only exist but thrive. We need to be setting up generations of success and growth. Talk to your peers and family about the importance of a good credit score as well as home and business ownership. Pay it forward with the younger ones who will be coming up behind you. These jewels and keys to success have to be passed down.
Please never settle into the mindset that you’re owed anything. You have to work for it, and you have to work harder than others. This world isn’t fair, and it tends to leave behind the stubborn and resentful. It burns the ones who refuse to adapt and acclimate. There are countless examples of businesses that didn’t adapt to the ever-changing consumer, and who didn’t learn new ways to market their product. Those businesses are now closed. Your open-mindedness and willingness to learn new things will be some of the traits that separate you from the masses. One of the things that I always try to get across to my daughter and her brothers is something that I’ve recently begun applying over the last 10 years; we need to get out of our comfort zones to grow. Embrace that initial discomfort.
Include yourself, but also be inclusive of others. Make an effort to bring yourself to the table. It’s up to you to find out where these tables are. Because later on, I don’t want to see you upset about not being invited to the table. Seek them out, and at the same time, make sure that you bring others with you. This is how you can strengthen your community and generation.
Be proud of your culture, but shed the caricature that it’s become. If you don’t believe that Black American culture sets trends and is fancied worldwide, just look to Japan, where some of their youth have trained their hair to grow afros and dreadlocks. Hip Hop culture has spread across the globe, and it's even in some of the most Anti-American countries. Gun violence, disrespect of women, and embracing lawlessness aren’t a part of your culture; these are some of the things that complacency has let in. You have a rich culture of creativity, love, strength, pride, and family. Your history has had its hands in plenty of higher education, and it has a deep history of creating generational wealth. This history is documented. Don’t let other narratives fool you.
Aspire to be the leader and uplifting citizen that you have the potential to be. Ultimately, your biggest opponent will be the reflection in the mirror. Not white America, not some boogeyman, not your past. Surround yourself with like-minded people, as well as people who are in places you aim for. Open yourself to mentorship, and let your mentors be of different races and genders. Get the full scope of perspectives.
You’ll have detractors, and these people will come in the form of friends and family as well. Rise above it, and hold true to your beliefs. You will learn not to share your ideas and goals with small-minded people because they will project their own failures and shortcomings onto you. Your destiny is in your hands. Your end result doesn’t necessarily have to be an athlete or rapper. Not that you shouldn’t have dreams, but also commit to learning finance and investment. Become a part of the American dream and process that countless immigrants risk their lives for.
I’ve learned that shortcuts won’t get you there. It will take hard work and determination. What you may think of as the path of least resistance is usually the hardest, longest, and most painful. Make a list of your goals and the road it will take to attain them. Stick to it, and modify it when need be.
There’s a saying about birds of a feather flocking together. Or, if you want to learn about a person, just look at his friends. People judge you by the company that you keep. Negative peer influences are one of the biggest obstacles you may face, and it’s easy for you to become engulfed in whatever your friends are. I’ve seen friends lead people down dark paths. You have to learn to have the foresight to see potential dangers that lie ahead. You then have to have the strength to separate.
The criminal justice system has statistically proven to give you longer sentences because of your skin color.
Gangs will target you for recruitment or target you for harm because of your skin color.
Interactions with authority could be hostile because of your skin color.
Don’t give these people any more ammunition.
Ultimately, don’t be your own worst enemy. Walk that fine line of carrying yourself with the dignity and pride of royalty, but be humble enough to not look down on others.
These articles are being shared by partners in The Granite State News Collaborative. For more information visit collaborativenh.org.