A Second Chance: Manhood, Fatherhood, and Life

By Al Hartman

Who know fatherlessness better than one who grew up without a father? Having battled his own childhood trauma, Al Hartman only wanted to be a good father to his daughters. Sadly, his endeavor was interrupted by poor life choices and incarceration. This true story of perseverance and resilience, in spite of the odds, aims to inspire other men to never give up hope. Everyone deserves A Second Chance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al Hartman
• Release date: Mar 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733656016

Al Hartman

Overcoming life's obstacles birthed waves of inspiration within author and youth mentor, Al Hartman. Instead of cowering under the bricks life hurled at him, Al took each brick and created a path to healing through helping and inspiring others. Drawing from his own well of experiences, the crux of his passion involves breaking negative cycles while endeavoring to become a better father. The emotional trauma of being fatherless, accentuated with homelessness motivated him to help children in dire need. Since 1991, Al has sponsored multiple fundraisers and continues to volunteer his time and effort towards community outreach. His new program, Kidz That's Right, Inc. is designed to build the character and self-esteem of young people, while making a way to supply their basic necessities of life.

Book preview

A

Second

Chance

Manhood, Fatherhood, and Life

Al Hartman

Copyright © 2019 Al Hartman

All rights reserved.

Published by Claire Aldin Publications, LLC

P. O. Box 453, Southfield, MI 48037

www.clairealdin.com

Edited by: Shairon L. Taylor, SLT Inspirations, LLC

Cover Photo by: Russell B. Jenkins

No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other – except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019931983

ISBN: 978-1-7336560-1-6

Printed in the United States of America

FOREWORD

Urban communities are portrayed in the media in a very negative light, often focusing on the atrocities, poverty, and crime. A Second Chance: Manhood, Fatherhood, and Life tells the story of a man who grew up in the City of Detroit, but has not allowed the negative circumstances in his life define him. He has taken the bricks that have been hurled in his direction and built steps to lead future generations to a greater purpose through outreach, fundraising, and mentoring.

The story you will read on the pages that follow is raw and personal. It’s a behind-the-scenes look into Al Hartman’s story of survival and making a difference. As you read each chapter, think about any similarities in your story and his. Instead of allowing adversity to define him, Al Hartman is using it to teach those within his own reach. My hope is that you will be inspired by his compassion for underprivileged youth and support this and similar causes. Everyone deserves a second chance.

~Dr. De’Andrea Matthews

President and Founder

Claire Aldin Publications

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ChapterOneManhood

ChapterTwoLayingTheFoundation

ChapterThreeGoodSeedsGoodFruit

ChapterFourThePressuresofLife

ChapterFiveFatherhood

ChapterSixMakingADifference

ChapterSevenRelationshipBuilding

ChapterEightLife

AboutTheAuthor

CHAPTER ONE

MANHOOD

Not everyone has the privilege of having their father in their household. If you did, you were very fortunate. I did not. Growing up without my father has taken me on a ride that twisted my life around. At the age of ten, my father passed. I remember being at the funeral…staring…realizing that he’s dead. It was when the casket was closing that I began to cry out Daddy!, all the while realizing he was no longer gonna answer. My mother relocated taking me, my two sisters and my only brother from an apartment, to a house.

My father’s passing didn’t appear to be much to me because he wasn’t around as much as I would have liked. My mother was able to provide me and my siblings with things to keep us feeling good as kids. We had bikes and entertainment in our home, such as a pool table and a ping pong table. I entered a new elementary school, which was pretty cool. As I relaxed in my new surroundings, I started to discover myself. When I was promoted to junior high school, I noticed a difference.

My skin was changing right before my eyes. Sitting in class, I lifted my sleeve and I noticed little bumps coming out of my skin. How embarrassing! I looked at my siblings; my oldest sister, who had a different father, had similar skin. Questions emerged after noticing this, but my mother was not helpful at all. The older I got, the worse my skin got. My brother and sister who I share a father with, didn’t have this problem. The older I got, the worse my skin became. My self-esteem was low; soon, I found myself feeling alone. Feeling like I was being looked at a lot, I began to fight.

Getting kicked out of school, of course, I got whipped; but that didn’t have an effect on me because I continued to fight. Entering high school without very fashionable clothes, I found myself skipping class. Eventually, I graduated after summer school and received my diploma. However, I was out of school with no job and no male figure to guide me.

I found myself alone. Death entered our lives again when my older sister died from a car accident. So, now it’s me, my older brother and my younger sister. Years passed, and we were growing into our own. Eventually, I left the house to stay with friends. After a while, with no money and no food, I went back home only to be greeted with discipline.

Coming back home was not easy due to my relationship with my sister, and at times, my brother. Felicia and I clashed a lot. It was her way or no way in the house and my mother allowed this type of behavior to go on. My mother was the type whose words could tear you down; at least it seemed that way to me. Her words made you feel some kind of way. Because I had a skin condition, any time she got mad at me, she would call me out of my name. I couldn’t understand this because I inherited it from her genes. How could she say such a hurtful thing, knowing I was struggling with how I viewed myself?

One day while I was cleaning the house, my sister walked in with her friends and walked on the kitchen floor right after I mopped it. Of course, we exchanged words, so she and her company went to her room. Later that day, my mother addressed the issue that my sister brought to her. I defended myself by telling her what my sister had done. This only caused my mother to go off and slap me. Before I knew it, I hit the wall, putting a hole in it. My mother got up, grabbed and pushed me. I ran out the house into the driveway. She came to the door hollering at me. Continuing to feel hurt and disheartened after being called a bumpy face MF, the verbal abuse hurt far more than the physical abuse.

My sister and brother do not have this skin condition; only my mother, auntie, and oldest sister who died in the car accident. This condition that I’ve been living with my whole life, which actually altered my life as a teen, continued to be the very thing used against me. If you’ve ever had something used against you, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Later that evening, I came home and Mom was in the kitchen. Preparing something to eat, she started up again. This time, I found myself talking back, but on a level where if she attacked me, I attacked verbally. She felt my words, so she got up and tried to hit me. There was nothing else to stop her other than grabbing her hand. She said, Let go of my hand. My brother came in the kitchen, grabbing me and we began to wrestle. My mother told me, You can get your ass out. I sat up all night, thinking about what I was gonna do.

The next day, I decided that it was time to go. It was a hard decision to make, but the only one that made sense back then. Having no way of getting any money to buy clothes or food, I started selling drugs. This time, I left home and never looked back.

Now I’m out here, learning how to become a man the best way I know how. I made enough money to feed myself and clothe myself better. My self-esteem lifted so much that I felt good for the first time in life, ever. Able to buy my own car, plus have a place to sleep, somehow, I still went to hotel rooms to just relax and take a shower. Even having those simple options felt good.

One day while in the room watching television, a commercial came on called Feed the Children. I looked at the way the kids in the commercial were living and thought about my own life. I wrote the number down and began sending twenty dollars every month. The program was set up where you were given a particular child to adopt. The child would write letters, providing progress updates, but how? Seeing how malnourished they were, I felt that they couldn’t have been able to write. Because it felt like a scam, I eventually stopped sending money and focused on the children right here in Detroit.

Out shopping one day, I’m riding in my car listening to the radio. A commercial came on for Coats for Kids. I immediately called the number better positioning myself to help a