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  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
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    • April 25, 2025
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    • March 27, 2024

    Brown Paper Bag

    Reflecting on childhood memories often brings to mind simpler times, like the excitement of packing a favorite lunchbox for school.,...
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    • July 31, 2023

    Small Town

    Hot topic today is the Jason Aldean’s song “try that in a small town”. When I first heard the song,...
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    • May 30, 2025

    Shades of a Man (Podcast)

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    • July 2, 2023
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June 26, 2025

Men healing – Round 2

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Books, Fashion, Life Style, Life Style, Photograph
May 30, 2025

Shades of a Man (Podcast)

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May 14, 2025

Growth takes time!

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April 25, 2025

Men’s deserve to heal

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April 10, 2025

50 years deep!

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Remembering my friend

Thank you. I know I never said that to you when I had the…

Wakime Hauser June 3, 2024
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Avoidence

Avoidance was the primary reason for my mediocre performance during my college and early…

Wakime Hauser May 29, 2024
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Promise- introduction

This book emerges from the depths of a broken man’s soul. While I am…

Wakime Hauser May 25, 2024
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Failure vs. Quitting!

Do we often quit what we start? Do we fail more than we quit?…

Wakime Hauser May 16, 2024
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Graduation 🧑‍🎓

This weekend, I had the honor of attending my niece’s graduation from Coastal Carolina…

Wakime Hauser May 8, 2024
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  • Uncategorized
  • May 8, 2023

HAM AVE

About a decade ago while visiting my older sister in Greenwich Ct, I took her daughter to the basketball court that I grew up playing at. In my opinion from 1989-1993 that was my court. I did not own the court, however I was the baller that you had to earn respect from. The court and area was so different. It was much nicer. It had nice clear backboards and break away rims. It also had two hoops and not four like the Ham ave court I grew up playing on. It was nice to shoot on the new court however I could not keep the visions of the old court and moments that took place there. I mean from games such as butts up, stick ball, kickball, basketball, football, and tag to the after school fights. Not to mention riding bikes down the steps and skateboarding. Ham ave was my home away from home. It was not only the place where I went to elementary school, it was the place where I groomed my basketball game and the place where I met my older son’s mother. When I was in fifth grade Ham ave was the all in one,...
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  • February 21, 2024

Silver Spoon!

In the realm of societal unbalance, there exists a phrase that reverberates with both envy and disdain: “born with a silver spoon.” It explains the notion of being born into immense wealth, shielded from the adversities that plague the majority of humanity. As I reflect on this concept, I am reminded of the stark realities of economic inequality that persist in our world. In my capacity as a black teacher and gym owner, I witness firsthand the disparities that exist and the systemic barriers that obstruct the path to prosperity for many including myself. Less than 2% of the population will never have to worry about money. These individuals were born with a silver spoon. This status is for life. Unlike a plastic spoon, a person born with a silver spoon will always have a silver spoon. It doesn’t matter what happens in their life; they will always be rich. The metaphor of the silver spoon speaks to the perpetuation of privilege across generations. It symbolizes not just material wealth, but also access to opportunities, networks, and resources that reinforce and amplify that wealth. For those born into affluent families, success often seems preordained, a birthright rather than an achievement.,...
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  • July 30, 2024

Trust without truth

When I was an emotional and somewhat naïve undergraduate student, I wrote a paper on police brutality and excessive force. Despite dedicating significant time to it, I received a C. At the time, I was convinced that my grade was due to the paper’s critical stance on the police, which I then viewed as a white supremacist organization that despised Black people. This sentiment was echoed by my friends, family, and relatives. I believed anyone who disagreed was racist. I avidly read Malcolm X, Nathan McCall, W.E.B. Du Bois, Marcus Garvey, Alex Haley, and Booker T. Washington. I deeply understood the historical struggles of Black Americans. Indeed, it was a struggle, and I believe that we Black Americans are living in far better conditions today compared to fifty years ago and beyond. The further back you go, the worse it gets. In 2012, I was on a college field trip with students who were beginning to explore higher education opportunities. My mentor, who was the acting president of a university, invited us to his office. He delivered a powerful speech, concluding with words that have stayed with me: “Never let your appearance or culture be the excuse you don’t reach,...
  • Life Style
  • August 13, 2023

Growing old with Hip Hop

I wrote this piece back in 2013, and in light of hip hop’s 50th anniversary celebration this weekend, I believe this poem resonates fittingly. Enjoy! Born with this music Hip hop Fatherless soul Hip hop was my guide It showed me the breaks Which I lived Auditory No videos and magazines Well, there was……. Underground Suppressed like the segregated south Trying to gain musical civil rights Breakthrough Run DMC Elementary Rhymes Which to this day, are parts of me Still there was no money I learned the meaning of philosophy Through BDP When dancing earned respect And DJ’s didn’t yell there names Promoting themselves the whole night Stopping the violence Was a mission Fashion was…. Gold Suede Leather Bombers Sheep skins And FOR REAL Most of us fought Hand to hand As I age Hip hop I still breathe I lived through the changes Its common sense I think I love her Well??? It’s a love hate thing Cause I love the music But I hate the game Sex and violence Yeah Kris knew it The art form is gone Hip hop Now has the root of all evil It all about the Benjamin’s And the Benz The ice The,...
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  • June 5, 2023

Men Matter

Growing up to this day I am faced with one consistent question. What is your nationality? I have been asked if I was Jamaican, Dominican, Mixed black and white, Puerto Rican and mixed Puerto Rican and black to name a few. I was always told that I was black. I believed this most of my young life. I recall in 5th or 6th grade doing a family tree. My father directed me to my grandfather and he gave me a history dating back to the early 1800’s. This information was accompanied with stories. I really felt like I knew my fathers side of the family. As a child we had family reunions and I would meet relatives from all over the United States. My great aunt’s and uncles would display so much pride in their heritage. My Grandfather was from the south and experienced racism in a different way then I did as a kid and adult. He was not fond of white folk, but always informed me that my family had white blood. It was not very clear to me the source of the white blood but I understood it as a woman had kids and may have even,...
Recent Posts
  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
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    Shades of a Man (Podcast)

    • May 30, 2025
  • Growth takes time!

    • May 14, 2025
  • Men’s deserve to heal

    • April 25, 2025
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