I love my community. I love my culture. I love my history. I love it all. But boy…I can’t stand the badmindedness! As much as there is greatness to celebrate and appreciate, I think we can improve in the area of cohesiveness.

It’s everywhere…not just in our community. I know every race and culture has their own qualms about one another, their own pet peeves and their own wish list of things they want for their people. At the top of my wish list: I wish our people would learn to support one another better.

A simple thing. But easier said than done.

So February comes, it’s Black History Month. It’s all about Martin Luther King’s dream and coming together and who invented such-and-such, and big speeches, and even bigger events and corporate recognition, holding hands, and all is good in the world and everyone is optimistic. And then March 1st comes and sometimes all of that positive thinking and community building disappears. The spotlight is off for another eleven months, and some of us seem to quickly forget about the bigger picture: the unity, the history, and the future of our community.

The Raptors have had a series of home games these past few weeks, which has given me time to get some rest (no flights!) and reconnect with the city. This past Sunday, I also had the opportunity to attend church, which was a nice luxury. I went church in the neighbourhood where I grew up and attended elementary school: St. Timothy’s Catholic Church.

As I listened to the priest, I couldn’t help but reflect on how fortunate I have been. I was grateful for my health and strength, and grateful that I had the opportunity to sit in the very place of worship where I would sit as a child. It was a nice feeling to be back.

Back in the day, I used to sneak my hand into the offering slot and attempt to take money out. Horrible, I know, but I was a child and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now that I’m in a position to give back to the church, it feels good. Not out of guilt for my childhood mischief…but just out of gratitude! Out of thankfulness! Out of appreciation that God has never left me.

There were two neighbourhoods that raised me when I was growing up in Toronto. Havenbrook, and Flemingdon Park. Last week I reflected on my years in Havenbrook…this week, I’m looking back at Flemmo. I proudly rep both locations and their influence on my life.

The Flemingdon Park neighbourhood is located around Don Mills and Eglinton. While my family physically resided on Havenbrook Boulevard, north on Don Mills, I did spend a lot of my time in Flemmo. I attended kindergarten there, my dad would play soccer there every Sunday at the park, I had a brother and sister that lived there, and it naturally became my second home.

I learned about being militant from my experiences in Flemingdon Park. I learned about perseverance and how to be strong-willed and thick-skinned from a lot of good soldiers in this neighbourhood. Men that faced constant adversity, yet still walked with their chests high—these are the individuals that helped me to become the man that I am today.