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Authors: Eric Thomas

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BOOK: The Secret to Success
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They did not just talk about it; they lived it. I watched them both rise early in the morning and start the day off with Worship. The house rule was that anyone who stayed the night also rose for worship. It was crazy being exposed to the West Indian grind. Sister Cannonier woke up every morning and made fresh biscuits from scratch. After she cooked, she got dressed and headed to Murray Wright High School to put in eight hours as a math teacher. Brother Cannonier was a carpenter by trade, but he had about three jobs. I am not sure which one he went to first thing in the morning, but I knew for sure he was working on one of his properties at night. He'd come home for dinner and worship then spend some time with the family before heading back out the door to work on the rental property or the church.

I was exposed to a great deal in the short time I lived with them and as a result, I learned a great deal. Of the many values I learned from the Cannoniers, the one that stuck most was the non-negotiable family worship session every morning and evening. I am not sure if their sons, Sammy and Shane, were feeling family worship, but Brother and Sister Cannonier were committed to it. They also were committed to happiness. I'm not saying they didn't have their challenges, but I saw first -hand how their faith allowed them to deal with and enjoy life in a way that was special. Hard work was another value I was exposed to. I grew up in a working class environment. I saw my parents and most of the neighbors get up in the morning and go to work, but this was a different type of work. The Cannonier's were from the West Indies, so work was a major part of their cultural beliefs. They literally gave up everything and came to the United States to create a better life for their family. Thankfully, that work ethic eventually rubbed off on me.

Principle 12
: You need your undivided attention
.

Whenever you decide to change your life for the better, just know it won't be a simple process. There will be a number of distractions enticing you to go back to your past ways
.

“E, let me holla at you fam,” Lil B called out. It must have been around 2 o'clock in the morning. I assumed Lil B wanted to talk about the beat down we just put on these church boys. It was something like a showdown from an old western. It started about a year ago and climaxed that night at a church basketball game. Bob, Desrick, and I were walking up a dirt road chillin' at camp meeting when we heard bass booming from a car. By the time we turned around we saw about four cats in a sports car swiftly approaching us. Instead of moving to the side and letting them pass through, I noticed B stop abruptly in the middle of the road and had this look like, I am not moving and you better slow down and go around me or something real is going to pop off up in here. Desreck and I were going to get out of the middle of the road until we noticed that B had not moved. At that point, we had to just follow B's lead. “Get out of the street before you get ran over,” one of the passengers yelled. B did not blink and he did not say a word. Being out numbered was nothing new for us. In the city we would stare another brother down in a minute and dare them to fight because our crew was so massive. Plus, B's older brother Bill was there and Bill Blast was into that ultimate fighting stuff and known for giving out beat downs. Because we were outnumbered, they confidently jumped out the car to see if we would back down. After about 15 minutes of going back and forth, B said something about his older brother that was enough to shut the arguing down. Apparently, they attended the same school with his older brother and knew he had a reputation of laying cats out. As we were walking away, B let one of them know it was not over and that they better watch their backs and get ready for a serious beat down when we got back to Detroit. B kept his word. Before the fight at the game a few of us decided to go to a major church collaboration and we kind of figured they were not going to come on our side of town (the west side), but we were wrong. On my way to the restroom I noticed about three of them walking toward me, so I did a serious 180 degree rotation and ran back to the balcony and warned the guys. By the time we exited the church and dashed to the parking lot and back to the ride, they were on our trail quickly. Goodloe told us to start the car, pop the trunk, and meet him at the spot. I figured it did not take all of us to start the car, so I stayed with Loe. He was about 6 feet 4 or 5 with a long reach. As soon as the fight reached us, Loe dropped the boulders. The first dude fell back. The second one ran up on Loe and Loe landed a serious blow to his jaw that buckled him like Thomas “The Hitman” Hearns against Sugar Ray Leonard. We hopped in the ride and headed back to the Twain to holler at the rest of the crew about the near beat down and figure out how and when we were going to deal with them. B suggested we wait and surprise them. He told us they played in the church basketball league and specifically, they played against their team twice during the season and we could bum rush them in the middle of the game. B got almost everybody to commit, Sweetdaddy, BoBo, Raymond, Tank, Jr., Loe, Bill, Bob, Lil B, Descrick and without thinking I said, “I'm in.” It rolled off my tongued like rain rolls off a window seal. Somehow I was in the moment and I forgot all about De and college. In that moment I felt trapped, like there was no way out. On the one hand, I wanted to sit this one out. I was a few months away from getting out of the hood and spending the next four years with my girl without her mother all in our business. On the other hand, I wanted to show my loyalty to my homies. This was my moment to show the homies my appreciation for having my back and practically raising me as far as the street game was concerned. I felt like I did not have a choice, I needed to hop in the ride and represent. One night, one ride, could change the rest of my life for the rest of my life. I guess that's why I was so grateful when Lil B called my name that night. It meant we all made it back to the block alive without anyone getting hurt or put in a bag. Plus, we made it off the premises before the police made it to the game. “E, you still headed down south for school with De in the fall?” Lil B said like a concerned parent. “No doubt,” I said without being cocky but with a proud feeling. Lil B's next words shocked me because I assumed he wanted to talk about how I got down that night. “Then you need to get outta here. You are not like the rest of us, you got a chance so don't mess it up. You have an opportunity the rest of us don't' have. Get out while you are alive. I am proud of you boy, now go make the Twain proud.” As I walked off the block for the last time, I turned to B and said, “I promise, college won't change me homie.” I walked away from the Twain that day and I never looked back.

Got my G.E.D

At some point in life you have to face your fears, and head on even though you can't be sure of the outcome. A great deal of people will never reach their dreams and it won't have anything to do with their ability or skill set. They won't reach their dreams because they were too afraid to try
.

As I took my seat, my palms were sweaty and I could feel my legs shaking uncontrollably. “E, relax, calm down, take your time, everything is going to be fine.” But as soon as I closed my eyes to pray, thoughts of failure raced through my head. It was hard to ignore the negative voices screaming in my head, “It's no way you are going to pass this test, you have never been good at taking tests, you are too dumb for college,” no matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the voices. Instead of panicking, I stopped and whispered a silent prayer. I remember my past experiences, that whenever I was in a crisis, if I closed my eyes, BAM! God would come through for me and I felt in my heart He could come through again.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me, thy rod and staff shall protect me.”
As soon as the words were leaving my lips I could feel a presence of calmness come over me, and I felt at ease. It was as if God himself came into the classroom and said in a still small voice, “Relax, take your time, everything is going to be fine son.” I was young, but I was wise enough to know that if God said it, that settled it. So I grabbed my pencil, filled out my name on the Scan-tron and went to work. I approached the G.E.D. test in a way I had never approached a test. This exam had major lifelong implications. It was much deeper than an alphabetic scale, A…B…C…D or F; this exam was for all the marbles. If I failed, I knew I would be broken. My entire future was riding on the results of this exam. For one, I could potentially lose my girl for life. Two, I would be trapped in Detroit for the rest of my life. I learned quickly that the hood is a dead end. I did not know one drug dealer that retired from the game. Even if the Feds did not catch up with them, some jealous snitch ratted them out, or some scorned female set them up. And worse than that, I did not want to be one of those cats sitting on the porch drinking a 40 oz. reminiscing about what I could have been like. On the other hand, if I passed, it was an automatic renewal on life. A renewal I so desperately needed.

The test was timed so I had to be strategic. I did not want to rush it and risk making stupid mistakes, but I could not afford to be too methodical and waste so much time focusing on one section. So my strategy was to skip all the questions I did not know immediately, and focus my energy on the questions I knew or thought I knew. The majority of the sections lasted about an hour and a half. That gave me enough time to nail the ones I knew and wrestle with the questions that were written in seemingly a foreign language. During my breaks, I was so nervous I did not speak to anyone. I did not even use the payphone to call De. I spent the entire break praying. I felt really good about my chances to pass the exam until the instructor handed out the writing portion. That's when my heart dropped. In my mind the other sections of the test were easier because they only required deductive reasoning. I read a passage and based on the information provided, I selected one of four possible answers. The writing portion was just the opposite. It was a blank sheet of paper with nothing on it. To make matters even worse, they allotted the least amount of time to complete this section. I wasted the first 15 minutes trying to create a thesis. I began writing for what seemed like five minutes, and then I heard, “Please, place you pencils down and pass your exam to the front of the room.” The words pierced through my chest and I felt like I was having a massive heart attack. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I barely finished the conclusion and did not have time to edit my work. I vividly remember thinking “I got that close to having a fresh start.”

“Your results will be ready tomorrow afternoon. All you need to do is visit the administrative office tomorrow after 3:00 p.m., with a valid ID and your results will be provided. However, your written portion will be mailed to D.C. for review and the results should be available within two to three weeks.” “Two to three weeks!” I shouted rudely. “Yes, two to three weeks Mr. Thomas,” the instructor responded. The next day I woke up with a serious knot in my stomach and I was quiet the entire day. I did not have much of an appetite, and I did not feel like being sociable. The test results were the only thing on my mind. I was dressed, out of the house, and at the bus stop one hour early. I made it to the school by 2.30 p.m. and was the first person in the office. I walked up to the window and wrote down my name, time of arrival, and my ID number. About 27 minutes later the receptionist called my name and handed me a manila envelope with my name on the top left corner and said, “Good Luck.” I am generally cordial, but I was so nervous I just grabbed the manila envelope and walked out. I went outside to open the envelope so no one in the room would see my reaction to the scores. I must have walked at least a mile up the street before I opened the envelope thinking to myself, “My life is contained in this small envelope.” I finally opened it and browsed through the scores. Initially, the numbers did not make a lot of sense, but at the bottom of the G.E.D. document there was a section that said you needed at least a 410 in each section and a 450 average, which would equate to 2110 points. I took a deep breath, looked down at my scores and did the mental math. I did not score a 450 in every section but when I added up all the section, I realized I passed with flying colors. Unfortunately, I had mixed emotions. I wanted to run to the nearest payphone and call De, but the last thing I wanted to do was call her and celebrate prematurely only to later find out that I failed the writing portion. In fact, I was more terrified after realizing I passed the first phase than I was taking the test in the first place. I remember thinking I had more to lose now than ever. If I had never taken the test I could always say I would have passed it if I had I taken it, I just did not feel like taking it. That way I would never have to face my fears and I could create this illusion in my mind to prevent me from feeling like a failure. I was good at that. But the stakes were high and there was no turning back at that point. If I failed the written portion, Eric Thomas Is a Complete Failure, would be written in stone forever and my fate would be sealed. So when I finally spoke with De later that day I just told her I had to wait two weeks to get my results. It seemed like the longest two to three weeks of my life, but one random weekday I got a letter from the Department of Education. I remember sitting there looking at it for a while before I opened it. It was pouring rain outside and the wind was whipping against the window in a fierce manner. My eyes began to water and my neck began its infamous twitch. I opened the letter and read slowly. Dear Mr. Thomas the nature of this letter is to inform you that you have successfully completed the written portion of the G.E.D., congratulations. I dropped the letter and took off running down the street in the middle of the rain yelling and screaming uncontrollably. Whoo! Whoo! I ran back inside and grabbed the letter, stuck it in my pocket so it would not get wet, jumped on De's Honda Spree motorcycle and headed to her to tell her the good news. Riding through the rain with the biggest grin on my face, the only thought on my mind was, “Lookout world, here comes your boy, ET!”

BOOK: The Secret to Success
13.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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