Recognize the Real

Hotep,

I’m sure we’re all familiar with the cliché, “Things could be worse.”

In most cases, it’s just a convenient response to rationalize life’s pitfalls.

When I first came to the row, that cliché seemed to be the mantra amongst the prisoners.

I didn’t understand it at first.

I mean, I was like, “How can it get any worse than this?”

As time moved on, I delved into my inner being, grasping my spirituality as a means of learning my purpose in this realm of life.

That journey helped me to understand that things could be worse.

Like, enduring this death sentence without the support of my fam. That’s a scary thought, indeed.

My big brother, “D,” has been in my corner since day one.

He encouraged me to be a difference maker long before I got this death sentence.

Playing football as a youngsta, my big bro would be on the sidelines encouraging me to be the game changer.

He witnessed me catch my first touchdown and he was overwhelmed with pride when I dropped the hammer on the ball carrier on the ensuing kickoff. Real talk.

He gave me my first basketball, a Wilson.

He bought my first pair of leather kicks, red and white Converse (Dr. J’s).

He introduced me to the game, injecting me with a lifetime dosage of b-ball memories.

I’ve been in love with this game ever since I laid hands on that Wilson b-ball at 8 years of age.

My love for this game is what validates me as the MannofStat, a b-ball junkie who doesn’t mind sharing his fix with the masses.

Without “D” there would be no MannofStat. Na mean?

I recognize the real. “Things could be worse.”

I could’ve gone through life not knowing my big bro, not loving b-ball and never being encouraged to be a difference maker…an existence without purpose.

Well, I’m glad that I’m not that person.

Your MannofStat is here

Ain’t running nowhere,

Ain’t going nowhere,

Ain’t hiding nowhere. Ya heard?

With that said, you can call me concussion cause I’m out.

One love “D”

MannofStat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Yeah, I Know What’s Up

Hotep,

During a recent visit with my parents, the topic of prison infractions came about.

Now, normally my parents do most of the talking during our visits.

I love listening to them talk about their lives as they enter their golden years. That’s what’s up.

But on this particular occasion, I was given the floor.

I seized this opportunity to expose some of the shady politics behind prison infractions.

My case is still under appeal and it would go against my better judgment to attempt to try my case in cyberspace, but I can spit some “actual factuals” about some of my prison infractions.

So, catch this people, your Mannofstat is about to exhale.

Merriam – Webster defines the term infraction as: The act of infringing: violation.

It says nothing about infractions being a measuring stick to judge a person’s character.

I mean, if a person is ticketed for doing 65mph in a 35mph zone,does that make them the most reckless individual ever? Not necessarily.

I served three years in the United States Navy.

I was honorably discharged with an infraction-free record.

Did that mean that I was a 4.0, squared away sailor? Not hardly.

In my 13 years on death row, I’ve accumulated approximately 15 infractions, give or take a few.

Most of my infractions happened after the ten dollar rule went into effect.

When they started charging ten dollars per infraction, it was no longer about keeping your nose clean.

It was moreso about when it was going to get dirty. Na mean?

e.g. An officer confiscated a birthday card during a random shakedown.

The card was given to me for my 40th birthday.

It was a drawing of a stripper giving me a lap dance. It was signed by several cats on the row. Harmless, right?

I was charged with possessing contraband ($10).

I was charged with disobeying a direct order because I wasn’t walking close enough to the wall on the left side of the hall ($10).

I caught a bargaining and trading charge because an officer saw me giving someone a coffee ($10).

That’s $30 people.

I could go on and on about some of the silly logic behind prison infractions.

The bottom line is:
The ten dollar rule is the state’s racket. Word is bond.

This is my first bid. I’ll tell you what I told my parents. Prison life is something I’ll never get used to.

To say it’s been a rough adjustment is an understatement.

I’ll never accept my placement here, but I will work hard to remain productive and continue to shed a positive light on others.

Hey, I have no problem admitting that some of my infractions were warranted.

Bad day, wrong officer, whatever, but in no way, shape or form does my infractions define who I am or the person that I’m able to become.

In time, the gravest infraction will come to light…me being sentenced to die. Ya heard?

So, yeah, I know what’s up

Holla if ya hear me.

Nuff said,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

The Pride of a Father

Hotep,

Traditionally fathers are rarely given credit for watering their own seeds.

Providing for your offspring is just the natural duty of a dad, right?

Well, what about a dad that takes care of another man’s offspring as if they were his own? Does he deserve credit? Hold that thought…

I wanna say Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads. Those who are with us physically and those who have moved on, but allow their spirit to dwell within us.

I deeply appreciate the existence of my grandfather, the late Mr. Julius Samuel, aka, “Pop-Pop.” Your words, your love and your barbershop have left an everlasting impression on my life.

My son, Daveante, I love you more than the air that I breathe. I can’t begin to explain how proud I am to be a “G-Dad.” Thank you for my grandseed,Son.

And my Pops (Ed), I just wanna thank you for accepting me as your son. That’s what’s up!

It’s because of my Pops that I’ve never been able to embrace the term “step-parent.” Mainly because my Step-Pops has been my Dad since I was 5 years old.

My biological was tragically taken from me shortly after my 4th birthday.

I can still remember his last night in the realm we know as living.

The chaos…
The screams…
The tears…
Even the flashing red lights of the ambulance…

Much too complex for a 4 year old to ingest, right?

I now realize that I was called to do big things. Pain and suffering are just 2 of the many ingredients for the recipe that makes me Mannofstat.

You see, my Pops didn’t allow me to become a fatherless child. We’d go fishing, camping and I can’t count the many times we went to Six Flags’ Great Adventure.

But, his most memorable experience as my Dad was when we had breakfast with the legendary b-ball coach, Rollie Massimino.

It was a father/son banquet sponsored by my high school. Rollie was the guest speaker. My Pops still remembers Rollie’s speech. Real talk.

My most memorable experience as his son was when I saw a tear in his eye at my graduation from Navy bootcamp. The pride of a father was evident.

When he comes to see me, I can still see that pride, the pride of knowing that his son will not allow concrete and steel to define my being. Feel me?

I am driven by the Creator, but no matter where my journey leads, my father’s pride will always be with me. I’ve never had a “Step-Father,” only Pops.

One Love,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Responding to 'Anonymous'

Hotep,

I received an anonymous comment from a viewer who showed some concern about the humane rights of the victims of death row prisoners.

Anonymous said...
Humane? I can't help but ask did the victims of these death row inmates have a humane death? Why should we care if they have a humane death or not?

April 21, 2010 9:09 AM

Well “Anonymous,” I can only speak for myself. If my family member or loved one was murdered, I’d be very angry, but I wouldn’t be so blind with rage that “any justice” would do.

I would want the state to honestly prove beyond a reasonable doubt that this person is responsible for my loved one’s murder.

A grand performance by the district attorney and a gang of circumstantial evidence alone wouldn’t put my doubts to rest.

If the state’s attorney convinced me that this person killed my loved one, I’d have to believe that they are the worst of the worst before I would condone an execution.

You see ‘Anonymous,’ executions don’t sit well with me. Not because I’m on death row, but because over the centuries people have been executed for a lot less than murder and some of those unfortunate souls were executed merely because someone didn’t approve of the color of their skin.

That still stands true today ‘Anonymous.’ I know it’s difficult to see through all of the murk and mire the media has cast upon death row prisoners across the board, but hear my voice Anonymous and people of all races, shapes and religions. I am the bridge between first time offender and death row prisoner.

I am Mannofstat, a voice after the event has occurred. A statistic tells the story for those, who were unable, to witness the happenings. In some cases, a statistic can relieve doubts and grant confidence to those who are in need of a moral ascension. Stat is short for statistic.

So here I am, Mannofstat, engulfed in legalities and doing what I do live and direct from death row.

Sure enough my back is against the wall, but capitulation is not an option.

I’m a living example of what is wrong with our justice system. I am the antidote for recidivism. I only need on second chance. Ya heard?

‘Anonymous,’ thank you for your honesty. I’m sure your views are shared by many.

This blog is your forum to speak openly. As the Mannofstat, my mission is to be a facilitator to the masses. So, I am more than willing to shed some light on your darkness. Feel me?

Until next time, holla if you hear me.

Be Easy,

Mannofstat.
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann

Focused on Productivity

Hotep,

My Peoples. It’s a blessing to be in your ear once more. All glory be to the Creator for allowing my homegirl Chelle to be the headphones that carry my voice.

You’re doing your thing Ma and doing it well. No doubt.

A couple of months ago I received some emails from friends that I hadn’t heard from in a minute. It was good to know that my peoples haven’t given up on life.

We can’t change poor decisions we may have made in the past, but we can most definitely remain focused on the great things to come. Ya heard?

Each day inside this box, my focus is on productivity. If I’m not eating, sleeping or working out, I’m doing my best to be productive, making a positive difference in a negative situation.

My friends and family have played a major role in the positive direction my life seems to be going into.

As you may or may not know, North Carolina’s Death Row has a basketball tournament every year.

I just released the 2010 All-World Squad. This year’s basketball tournament will be starting in the next couple of months.

The posting of the All-World Squad always ignites the fire within the ballers.

In tribute to that inner fire, I’m calling this season, “Bringing the Heat.”

We have a new logo. I released it with the All-World Squad posting. It’s a silhouette of a famous baller, who revolutionized basketball as we know it, surrounded by the words, “Bringing the Heat.”

I figured it was more than appropriate due to the fact that death row basketball is revolutionary in itself. Ya heard?

In connection with this year’s tournament, I will be launching a new blog called, “Ball Til We Fall” (http://balltilwefall.blogspot.com/) where true basketball fiends can witness the raw unadulterated play of death row b-ball.

So, stayed tuned for the new blog and pass this on to all of the basketball fiends you know.

A couple of months ago Sharon made a comment on my first post, the“Basement” piece. I want her and everyone in the blogosphere to know that my focus will always be on the door at the top of the stairs. I love you for your input Sharon. Thank you so much for hearing me.

Thanks for the encouraging words Kizzy. Stay tuned for more Cuz. Give me a chance to dry those tears. Keep reading. My diligence will soon bring a smile to your heart. Feel me?

In conclusion, I wanna thank my homegirls from Northern Liberties who recently reached out to me through email. Welcome back to my life. Let’s keep the lines open. Ya heard?

One,

Mannofstat
Copyright © 2010 by Leroy Mann