THE BEST WAY TO HELP THEM IS TO FEED THEIR DREAMS

State Sen. Frederica Wilson says the black male is an "endangered
species," and deserves the kind of attention the state has given to
the survival of manatees.

"We're getting ready to set up millions of dollars of foundations to
save this manatee," says Wilson, D-Miami. "The alligator, the
crocodile. We have the redwood forest. All of these are endangered
species that this country has wrapped its arms around with
foundations. But no one has looked at this black man.

"What is more important to save?" she asks. "Animals, forests or
people?"

Besides opening herself up to charges of specism, there's a point in
there. How does one address the persistent problems generally
identified with black males? How does one begin to tackle low
graduation rates, high incarcerations and the tragic deaths from
preventable diseases, and come up with an all-encompassing solution?

Created last spring, the Council on the Social Status of Black Men and
Boys doesn't pretend to have the answers, but it intends to try its
best to drive the discussion and be part of the solution.

A bully pulpit isn't without benefit, but it's hard to believe this
council's efforts will produce anything but more discussion about
something obvious. Given a $250,000 budget, a paltry sum in state
government, the only thing this council can do is hold meetings statewide.

There's also a misguided view wrinkling itself in the council's
mission: that only government can be the answer. Government is partly
to blame. Although originally intended to stave off unlivable
conditions, welfare and public housing have been the gun at the back
of black families.

Urban ghettos, aided by government largesse, have trapped black males
into a mind-set of inevitable failure. So, the belief goes, the only
way to a better life is through drugs and gangs. Economic opportunity
and success are measured by the black market, by loyalty to a gang and
how you endure the tough life of the streets.

The late U.S. Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, a respected sociologist,
predicted more than 40 years ago that this disintegration of the black
family would be the springboard for what we now see taking place. Part
of a solution would be strengthening families. But in many ways, the
family is perceived as a taboo. Marriage has been lifted up to
expectations that exceed what is reasonable; married life becomes a
prison instead of the committed life of love and shared sacrifice it
is supposed to be.

Why marry when casual sex without personal responsibility is so easy?
Sure, there are programs that help beginning couples. Yet living
together can't always be coached on the couch of a therapist or counselor.

In the black community, churches are bedrocks. They're responsible for
many great community-service projects. They command a certain amount
of respect, but they have their limits.

Many young black males are not looking for God because pop culture has
such a hold on them. They think the only way to be real men is by
imitating Ludacris, 50 Cent, Young Jeezy, The Game or any of the
others. There's rarely a father, uncle or role model out there who can
buck them up, give them solid advice when they're dismayed by life and
its demands.

Moms are holding down two jobs, neglectful because there's no way to
put a roof over a kid's head, hold down multiple jobs and be the
involved parent that they want to be. Something must give, but what?
The best way forward is to attack the problem before these young men
become adults. We've got to invest more in education. That's the only
way to fight off the plague that destroys so many of these lives.

But the education system has long abandoned any real efforts to
educate. Instead, black boys have been passed over by an educational
establishment focused on achievers, not hard-luck cases.

I was lucky: I found mentors and examples. I dreamed dreams and
developed aspirations. Still, I was constantly finding myself in
trouble at school because of all the problems I was having at home.

I had a wonderful grandmother who loved me and took care of me. But I
had an absent father and a sick mom, and that situation brought out
the worst in me.

So I feel especially connected to the travails of black young men,
trying to face life with as much optimism as they can muster, but who
may give up in despair.

In Frenchtown, young black boys are playing, getting tutored and
learning that life is full of opportunity and new beginnings, if they
dare to dream. At the newly renamed LeVerne Payne Community Center,
that's possible.

It's doubtful that the Council for the Social Status of Black Men and
Boys can do much. So can we spend its $250,000 to prevent more of
these black boys from becoming extinct?

Chris Timmons is a student at Florida State University and a member of
the Tallahassee Democrat citizen editorial board.