Terry Bell has the perfect explanation for what happened to his son. “He was at the right place at the wrong time,” Bell said. “It was just timing. He walked out and here they come.”

Gene Deshawn Grisby, Bell’s eldest son, was shot and killed on Monday, January 10, 2011, outside his grandmother’s house at Crescent Park in Richmond. Grisby, 16, who lived with his grandmother and was under full custody of his dad, was on the way to the gym.

According to Bell, Grisby was an “average” 16-year-old kid who maintained a 2.0 in school in order to keep playing football on the El Cerrito High School varsity team.

Bell is a carpenter and he pushed his son to do better than him. “I had little problems with him at school,” he said, talking about Grisby’s grades. “When he started to play football, he listened.”

Bell was a strict father, always making sure Grisby was staying out of trouble and improving in school. “I’m the police,” Bell said. “If you see my son doing anything, you call me.”

And so it was the week before the shooting. Bell got a phone call from a teacher saying Grisby wasn’t paying attention in class. So Bell grounded Grisby for the weekend, and as the rules went, he was not allowed to leave the house until Bell got a phone call from the school saying things were better.

That weekend, Grisby stayed inside his grandmother’s house. He did his laundry and re-arranged his closet. On Monday morning Bell drove Grisby to school, as usual, but Grisby came back early when there was a big fight at El Cerrito High School and all the students were sent home.

Dianne McAdoo, 57, is Bell’s mother and Grisby’s grandmother. She said her son kept Grisby on a “short rope.” Being a grandmother, McAdoo gave Bell a hard time for being so strict to such “a sweet little boy.”

Earlier on that fateful Monday, Grisby had asked his dad for a truce. He wanted to go train at the gym, to get an early start for the football season. Bell agreed.

“Unfortunately, the one time he softened up, that would happen,” McAdoo said.

Bell also blames the economic depression for what happened. Unemployed since 2009, Bell was unable to move away from Crescent Park. “We was just going to finish school here,” Bell said. “Once you graduate then we’ll go somewhere else, to go to Junior college or something,” he recalled telling his son.

“I didn’t want to go far away, just to the other side of the freeway,” Bell added. “Now I want to get [my family] far away from here.”

Bell was raised in Crescent Park, a few doors down from where his mother lives now. He remembers the 90’s as a more dangerous time, with more shootings.

“What’s different now is that anyone that lives in Crescent Park could be shot,” Bell said. “I (thought I) had seen it all, until I saw this.”

TEENAGE VENDETTA

Tyris Franklin, 16, was charged with murder with enhancements for the use of a gun for Grisby’s killing, and will be tried as an adult. The trial against him starts Monday April 23, at Contra Costa Courthouse in Martinez.

The day of the murder, Franklin received a phone call from his brother who said he’d been beaten up by someone at Crescent Park. Franklin then asked Jean Pierre Fordjour, 19, to drive him to Crescent Park.

Franklin, Fordjour and three other passengers saw Grisby walking on the side of the apartment building at Crescent Park and Franklin decided to step out and confront him. The reason why Franklin decided to shoot Grisby is still unknown.

According to Bell, Grisby and Franklin had gotten into a fight when they were in the 8th grade and can’t recall anything else every happening between the two young men.

“It could have been any kid,” Bell said. “It just so happened to be the one that (Franklin) would definitely shoot.”

Bell has followed the court case closely. “I needed to know everything,” Bell said. “I waited to hear (evidence) that Gene did something. I never heard Gene did anything to deserve this.”

One year and three months have passed since Grisby’s murder. Bell deals with the pain by spending four hours a day at the gym, but said he still has a hard time finding forgiveness for Franklin.

“My anger has shifted to the parents,” Bell added. “What was his parents doing? Where were they?”

Franklin lived very close to Grisby’s home in Crescent Park. Bell said he wishes he knew Franklin had a problem with Grisby, so he could have knocked on his door and tried to find a solution that didn’t involve a gun.

“I got boxing gloves,” Bell said. “Those guys, they could have put on boxing gloves, if you got a problem. But you bring a gun.”

On Saturday, April 14, 2012, Raw Talent hosted the very first Youth Speaks Poetry Slam in Richmond. The event was held in partnership with Making Waves, the RYSE Center, Youth Speaks, the East Bay Center for Performing Arts, and Building Blocks for Kids. Twenty-five youth ranging in age from 12 to 20 came from Richmond and surrounding cities to participate in the slam.

There were two rounds where three finalists were to be chosen to go on to participate in the Youth Speaks semifinals. However, the judges were so overwhelmed by the talented participants that by the second round, instead of three winners there were five in each round, making ten youth from Richmond who will be going on to the next level of the competition. They are: D’Neise Robinson, Gio Fuarez, Ivori Holson, Yejide Porter, Deandre Evans, Imani Alcantara, Wanita Jones and Christina Letsinger. They’ll be joined by Nya Mcdowell and Marje Kilpatrick, last year’s finalists who were automatically guaranteed a spot in the semifinal that will take place on April 21st at Berkley’s Brower Center, from 7-9pm.

Youth Speaks is an organization that creates safe spaces to empower the next generation of leaders, artists and activists, through written and oral literacy programs that are intended to shift negative perceptions of young people.

The poetry slam was a big deal for Richmond, according to Molly Raynor, Raw Talent Co-Founder. She expressed how exciting it is that Youth Speaks identified Richmond as a place with a thriving poetry scene where they could host a slam. Raynor considers it a historical event, considering Richmond has been overlooked for so long. When the city is noticed, she said, it’s usually only for negative reasons. But now, she said, Richmond is on the map for Spoken Word poetry. Each year, more and more youth qualify for the slam, which speaks to the growing hunger for poetry in Richmond.

Judging by the audience reactions and participation through cheering, clapping, finger snapping and laughter, it was clear this event was long overdue. Poetry Slam Judge and Building Blocks for Kids affiliate Pamela Chavez described the event as beautiful. The youth, she said, have very important stories to tell, the kind that hit your heart.

“Youth speaking for themselves allows them to reframe how people look at (them),” said Chavez. “Youth can speak for themselves when it comes to redefining what it means to be young in the city of Richmond. As adults, we can be allies by providing space and listening.”

The auditorium was definitely filled with brave, new, raw voices, expressing the challenges young people face — especially those who suffer from poverty and all of the ills that come with it. The theme of change echoed off the walls of the East Bay Center Auditorium. The youth provided the audience plenty of food for thought, and everyone left with a little more awareness that youth in Richmond are making great waves that will wash these Richmond streets clean. They are not whispering, so trust you will hear them coming.

Dr. Marshall welcomes staff and students from the East Bay Center for Performing Arts in Richmond, CA. In studio guests— Ruthie Dineen, Reginald Johnson, Kalin Freeman, Danielle Benjamin, and Abigail Armendaris.

Profile, Monica Quesada |Richmond Pulse

Bennie Singleton quietly entered the church, Richmond’s Garden of Peace Ministries, looking for other “night-walkers.” With a household of children and grandchildren waiting for her at home, there were plenty of other things Singleton could have been doing on a Friday night — but the 78-year-old grandmother just had to come out and walk.

“We are tired of going to funerals,” said Singleton. “We are tired of children killing each other.”

For more than a year now, Singleton has been involved with Ceasefire, a group of concerned residents, clergy and police who are working together to stop violence, especially gun-violence, on the streets of Richmond. Their main activity is a weekly Friday night walk through problematic areas of the city, where they distribute information and do their best to get young people and other community members on board with the idea of a citywide ceasefire.

On this particular Friday the walkers were at Pullman Point, a townhouse-style apartment complex in central Richmond with a history of street violence. Once there, the walkers formed two-person teams and canvassed the entire grounds. It was a quiet night with only a few people out on the sidewalks, but each person the group encountered was given a few words and some literature.

Singleton was more quiet than usual. With the Ceasefire flyers held close to her heart, she walked strong and steady through the neighborhood while we spoke.

“I don’t really like people to know what I’m doing. I get embarrassed if people give me a compliment,” she said. “I like to do things in the background.”

Nonetheless, Singleton has shown herself to possess the character to act and responsibility to lead when necessary.

“I wish there were a lot more Bennies in [Richmond] because the city would already be a better place,” said Rev. Eugene Jackson, an organizer at Contra Costa Interfaith Supporting Community Organization (CCISCO) and one of the leaders of Cease Fire. “She represents the fact that even though you are a senior you do not stop serving. She has a place and a purpose.”

Singleton, said the Reverend, is an important source of encouragement for young people because like other elders with deep roots in Richmond, she carries the memory of a time when the city’s reputation was not so tarnished by negativity and community violence.

No Jim Crow, But No Less Racist

Singleton still introduces herself as Bennie Lois Clark Singleton. Clark, her maiden name, is one she has been unwilling to let go. “I use [the name] now, more than anything because [my parents are] responsible for what I am,” she said. “They made me who I am.”

Clark-Singleton was born in Louisville, Arkansas in 1934. Like thousands of other African Americans in the south during the Jim Crowe era, the Clarks looked to the north and the west as places that could offer more opportunity. They migrated to California after being recruited to work at the Richmond shipyards during World War II.

Back then, in the 1940s, Richmond was a racist town. Still a child, Clark-Singleton remembers seeing Ku Klux Klan marching down McDonald Avenue. Nevertheless, she still preferred Richmond to the segregated south because she was able to attend an integrated school.

“I really liked that,” she said, “[because] whatever they taught those white kids in that class, I could learn it. They couldn’t exclude me.”

Even though the schools were integrated, they still did their best to track African-American children into trade classes like machinery or woodshop or domestic courses for girls, like sewing or cooking. But Clark-Singleton was raised in a family that valued education and her parents managed to force the school to give her a college-prep education.

“[My father] was a strict disciplinarian who pushed us to get our education,” said Clark-Singleton about her father, Benjamin F. Clark Sr.

Clark-Singleton started working at the age of 17 at the U.S. Navy as a clerk. She got married a year later and had her first child at 19 years old. A life of family and work distracted her from studying. However, when her father started attending night school, she also went back to school and eventually earned her college degree. “That man is not going to outdo me,” she recalled thinking at the time about her father.

When Clark-Singleton and her husband, James Singleton, were going to buy a house in Richmond, they were told that only whites could buy the house. Unwilling to accept the limitations being imposed on them, they packed their bags and headed south to Los Angeles.

“My dad always had us in situations where we were just people with other people. We always lived in a mixed neighborhood,” Clark-Singleton said. “I have never felt inferior to anybody because of my color.”

But Los Angeles turned out to be no fairytale for the young couple. “It was worse than Richmond,” she said.

Ten years later, the family was back home in Richmond. The Singletons, now with three children, bought a house at Atchison Village in 1971. Her husband died that very same year, and Clark-Singleton has been living in the home ever since, the matriarch and main provider for a growing family. She continued working in the banking industry until 1997, when she retired. Today, her family has expanded to include five grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.

Like Father Like Daughter

Benjamin F. Clark Senior was a loving but strict father who would take his six children to the movie theater every weekend to see a western, although he usually fell asleep. “My dad [would] sleep everywhere,” said Clark-Singleton. “Anyplace.”

Clark-Singleton and the other children didn’t know at the time that their tired dad was not only busy working multiple jobs – he was a welder and the owner of a grocery store, among other things – but helping others in the community. Clark was a man of service.

It wasn’t until her father’s funeral that Clark-Singleton “found out all the things that he was doing,” she said.

Among those things was his involvement in the Civil Rights Movement. He also helped to start and manage the city’s first farmer’s market, and fought for improved schools in Richmond. After retiring, he would take care of senior citizens and sick people, visiting them, feeding them and cutting their hair.

“I see myself in him,” said Clark-Singleton. “I see a need, and I just do it. I don’t like wasting time.”

Like her father before her, retirement didn’t stop Clark-Singleton’s drive to remain a productive and helpful member of her community, and she soon began looking for volunteer opportunities. Her first stop was the Literacy for Every Adult Program where she volunteered as a teacher, but soon came to feel that education wasn’t her strong suit. So she switched her focus to neighborhood improvement efforts in Atchison Village and the Iron Triangle.

At the time, the area around McDonald Avenue and 8th Street weren’t being regularly cleaned, and city properties like the Nevin Community Center and Park had become dangerous areas, hot spots for criminal activity. So Clark-Singleton and other neighbors got organized and began attending city council meetings to demand more attention be paid to their neighborhoods.

“What do you mean no street sweeping? What do you mean you can’t ticket the cars?” Clark-Singleton remembered her reactions to the city’s justifications. “We would go up there en-masse.”

After applying lot of pressure, the city finally took them seriously. They got their streets cleaned and the Nevin Community Center back from drug dealers and drug addicts. It was a victory for grassroots democracy, and a good indication that residents in Richmond could change their circumstances, if they were persistent enough.

“It takes a lot of people concerned enough to do something,” Clark-Singleton said.

Richard Boyd moved to Richmond six years ago, and met Clark-Singleton at an Atchison Village neighborhood council meeting. He’d decided to get involved, he said, because of the amount of violence he witnessed on his block. Through Clark-Singleton, Boyd got involved with CCISCO where he now works as a community organizer.

“Bennie is by the book. When we get off track she pulls us back, she keeps us focused,” Boyd said. “When she’s around, we listen.”

Today, Clark-Singleton keeps on helping community-organized programs, dedicating almost half of her week to two volunteer programs: Ceasefire and Safe Return, another program organized by CCISCO, the Pacific Institute and the Richmond Office of Neighborhood Safety. The program aims to help parolees integrate back into the community.

Cease Fire is the program to which she dedicates the most time and energy, motivated by the young people in whom she still sees hope. “These are children starting out,” she said. “They still can make choices and decisions that can alter their lives.”

When she walks on the streets of Richmond with the other Ceasefire volunteers, she approaches young people as if she were a grandmother or an aunt. “I speak to them with respect,” she said, “And if they need a hug, I give them a hug.”

She also has a wish for Richmond youth. “I hope [young people] will see [Richmond] as the city I grew up in,” she said. “Where people trusted each other and you could go out, all over.” It shouldn’t be too much to expect, said Clark-Singleton. After all, she said, “there are more good people in Richmond than there are bad people.”

Dr. Marshall asks the Street Soldiers their thoughts and feelings about the Trayvon Martin shooting.