A Spirit of Perseverance
By Earl Jackson
()
About this ebook
This is a heart-warming story by Earl Jackson, in which he recounts his days of playing basketball in high school and his experiences with college basketball. Earl also shares his journey with trying to land a professional basketball contract overseas. It is only because of Earl's love for the game and his faith that he was able to persevere through all the odds stacked against him. This is a story that will you leave cheering for Earl page after page.
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A Spirit of Perseverance - Earl Jackson
EARL JACKSON
––––––––
A Spirit of Perseverance
Missing Button Publications, Inc
www.missingbuttonpublications.com
MISSING BUTTON PUBLICATIONS, INC BOOKS are published by
Missing Button Publications, Inc
New York, NY
Copyright © 2014 by Earl Jackson.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Paperback Printing: March 2014
ISBN-13: 978-0996040327
ISBN-10: 0996040323
Printed in the United States of America
About the Author
Earl Jackson grew up in Temple Hills, MD. He attended Crossland High School, where he was a standout basketball player. For his collegiate career, Earl chose to attend a historically black college, Johnson C. Smith, in Charlotte, NC. With his faith leading the way, Earl endured adversity from every angle and he still persevered. Earl is grateful for where he is today and for all of the experiences he has had thus far. He continually works to get better at his game and with this book he hopes to create more opportunities for himself and for others.
Table of Contents
––––––––
Ninth Grade
Tenth Grade
Eleventh and Twelfth Grade
Redshirt year
Freshman year
Sophomore year
Junior year
Senior year
The year after
Leap of faith
Keeping the faith
Chapter 1
Ninth Grade
T
o begin my freshman year of high school, I enrolled at National Christian Academy in 2002, where the only thing on my mind was making the basketball team. Crossland High School was my home school for the zone I lived in, but my mother wanted me to have a better education at a private school. As the school year progressed, I felt myself struggling with the schoolwork; the teachers were moving too fast and I wasn’t receiving the help that I needed. My focus was always on basketball and how I could better my skills.
I never thought of myself as a student-athlete. Instead of dedicating myself to my studies, I could only think about what I would do after school; I would spend hours at open gym, playing ball with my teammates and friends. I didn’t realize it then, but I had it all wrong. While I had the right priorities, they were gravely out of order. When the progress reports came out, all I could do was sit and watch the others play ball; my grades had made me ineligible. The worst thing about it was when my mother had me on punishment, in addition to being on academic probation. My mom’s form of punishment was not cool at all. I only got to watch TV because I would beat her home from work. Her rules were no TV, phone, or video games. Every afternoon was filled with doing schoolwork and finishing chores around the house.
Since I was academically ineligible, I had to go straight home from school. Being from the city, I took public transportation and rode the metro bus. I was on the chubby side with a preppy uniform and I always got picked on and threatened by the other kids while returning home from school. As the weeks went by, the weather started changing and it started getting darker earlier in the day. This was a big issue for me because back then I was still a kid; I wasn’t the 250 pound, 6 foot 7 man that you see today.
Fearing for my safety, I would carry a pocketknife on me, but not with the intentions to use it on anyone. It was more to scare someone off. Basketball was slowly fading away and I found myself as a regular student and doing the things that a normal kid would do. One day a couple kids brought knives to school just to show them off and brag to their friends. I fell right into the trap. Being young and dumb, I also pulled out my knife, declaring my means of protection. By doing that, I think some people became scared of me or felt threatened by me, which was not how I wanted them to feel.
So, the next day came around and I thought it would be just another regular day. I had been in class for a while when I noticed that a few administrators had come into the room and demanded to search everyone’s book bags and lockers. That announcement had me shook to the core, I had every reason to be scared. One of my female friends knew my dilemma and put my knife in her purse since the security guards did not search the girls’ purses. I thought by having her hide the knife that I would be safe.
I realized that someone had told on me because when they searched my belongings and came up with nothing, they almost seemed disappointed and shocked. It was as though they expect to find something. I don’t know what I was thinking, the security guards were almost done searching the rest of my classmates, but for some reason I was in a rush to get the knife back. I discreetly asked my female friend for the knife and quickly stuffed it back into my bag. That was the worst decision I made that day because the security guard saw me messing with my bag and came to investigate. They searched my bag again, and this time they found what they were looking for.
I was immediately sent to the principal’s office and I knew that what was coming next wasn’t going to be pretty. All I could only think about was what my mother was going to do to me. Chills ran through my body as I hung my head and walked to the office. You would think that I would have been worried about being suspended or expelled, but I only thought of one thing. I thought of the leather black belt that I knew would be waiting for me when I got home. I thought of my mother hitting me while screaming, What are you crying for? This is going to hurt me more than this is going to hurt you!
as tears rolled down my face in fear. The principal called my mother and explained to her that they had found a weapon on me and that I would be expelled from school until the school board made a decision of whether to kick me out or let me stay.
When the day ended, I caught the metro bus home and all I could think about was what was going to happen to me. When I got home, I figured there was no sense in doing homework since I was expelled from school, so I decided to enjoy myself before the storm rolled in. I ate and watched TV and as soon as I heard the door open, I turned the TV off and hid under the covers. My mother walked upstairs and said, Oh no, boy! You aren’t sleeping! You have explaining to do!
I continued to play like I was sleeping, which only annoyed my mother even more. My mother knew how to get me to act right. She said, If I have to repeat myself one more time, I am going to beat you in your sleep!
I immediately got up and followed behind her as we walked to her room. I hung my head the short walk there.
My mother then asked me to explain why I was carrying a knife to school. So I told her, Ma, I ride the bus home and I was using it for protection. I wasn’t planning to use it on anyone unless I had to.
She said, Well, we have a meeting next week with the school and until then you need to clean the whole house, wash all the cars, and wash everybody’s clothes.
As bad as I wanted to object to her conditions, it dawned on me that she didn’t mention a beating. I quickly shut my mouth and kept quiet.
Later that day I got a call from my father, the first thing out of his mouth was, What in the world were you thinking carrying a knife to school? Suppose you had to pull it out on somebody, would you have had the guts to use it? Because if you pull a knife out on me, I am going to cut you with your own knife!
My father’s words cut me deep but I still had to explain my side of the story, It was to scare people away,
I mumbled weakly. My father groaned, If that’s the case, you should have never been showing it around in school; the reason you carry yours is not the same reason everybody else carries theirs.
It was in that moment that I realized how right my father was.
He then went on to give me a lecture about how things would be from that point on when I came over to his house. Well, you know when you come over here, you can’t do nothing. No watching TV, no going outside, no playing video games, and definitely no company!
My father’s punishment was always worse than my mother’s because my cousin would always come over to hang out with me. And since he wasn’t the one on punishment, he would be playing video games and hanging outside with our friends, while I was stuck in the house and miserable. During my punishment, my mother told me to write a two page letter and explain why I was carrying a knife. She also wanted me to apologize and tell them that it wouldn’t happen again.
So, the day finally came and it was time for my mother and I to have our meeting with the school. As we walked into the building, I saw my classmates and I spoke to them with great shame. They asked me several questions like, How are you
? When are you coming back?
Before I could respond, my mother had already yanked me away and we hurried down the hall to the office. As we entered the office, I gave my letter to the principal for him to read. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know; the letter wasn’t going to help keep me in school. In fact, from his facial expressions, it was pretty clear that I was going to be expelled. After he read the letter, I was told to step out of the office while he talked to my mother. I sat outside the office for about 20 minutes. When they were finished, my mother came out the door and told me to say goodbye to the principal and to my classmates; I was no longer a student at the school.
As we walked out she said, Now you have to go to the school with the people you were carrying the knife to protect yourself from.
As we left National Christian Academy for the last time, we headed right down the street to Crossland High School, where I enrolled that same day and started class the next day. The atmosphere was totally different, that first day walking into the school I had witnessed three fights that morning. I walked to my homeroom class accompanied by my guidance counselor when I happened to walk past a classroom and saw an old friend from third grade. Joe was an old neighbor of mine. I quickly realized that a lot of the students at Crossland were people I knew from my old neighborhood, Bradford Place, and I instantly felt somewhat safer than I had when I first arrived.
In the years that I attended Crossland, I grew up a lot faster. I felt as though there weren’t as many rules. I had more freedom, but I had to react quickly off of instinct to keep myself out of dangerous situations. On the other hand, at National Christian Academy everything was structured so that minimal mistakes were made; everyone knew the rules and very few risked being caught. I had expected to play on the basketball team for Crossland but my poor grades at National Christian Academy hurt me at Crossland too. I was unable to play basketball, so I was a regular student for the remainder of the year.
Another tradeoff was that since I was now in public school, school started earlier but I also got out earlier, which left me with more time to enjoy the day after school. At National Christian Academy, we didn’t get out until 3:15pm. One particular day on the way home from school, I noticed this guy around my age who lived around the corner from me. I only paid attention to him because I thought I knew him. So, there I was walking behind him trying to get his attention but the whole time he kept speed walking and looking back as though checking to see if I was still behind him. I found the whole situation odd.
I knew I would see him again, so the next day I made sure I left class as soon as the bell rang. I stood outside of the school and waited until I saw him. As soon as I spotted him, I quickly yelled to get his attention and I ran over to him. We introduced ourselves and became fast friends. His name was Tyler but his friends called him Ty for short. I learned more about him and found out that he had two brothers. They lived with their mom, who was a nice and friendly lady. One thing Ty and I had in common was our love for basketball; we would play at the court down the street from where we lived and we would play until it was too dark to see anymore. Afterwards, we would go over to my house or his house and play video games. My mom would often cook dinner and invite Ty over; his mother always did the same for me. It was like we both gained a new brother and our mothers gained a new son.
Since high school basketball wasn’t an option this year, my cousin got me involved with bowling. We bowled for the Silver Hill Strikers located in Marlow Heights, MD. It was a league that met every Saturday from 10am until 2pm and we bowled three games. It might sound crazy but bowling was a good outlet for me. If you were a good enough player, you were able to enter the qualifying rounds for the tournaments that provided scholarships for college. At the beginning, I wasn’t very good at bowling but I was so eager to learn. I was ready to prove myself. I quickly realized what the bowling league was all about; it was about learning and improving, while interacting with my peers to achieve a common goal. My cousin was good at bowling, he had the curve ball down pat, and he even had his own bowling gear. You could tell bowling was a big deal for him.
As I started to get serious about bowling, my father realized the effect bowling had on me and took me to buy my own bowling shoes and a bowling ball. As the league started to come to a close, I found myself doing very well and I was learning how to throw that pretty curve ball that everybody else was praised for. The only problem