People are your greatest resource - A lesson from Grandpa Chester

When I was born, the government name I was given is one that I never use: Carson Jamal Wright IV I never use it because it sounds tight-assed to me.

Carson C. Wright. This man was tough. You had to be tough to be one of the few Black Sergeants in the NYPD, during the Civil Rights Era. He took hell from both sides of the controversy.You can see the resolve in his eyes.

My dad’s dad, was Carson Chester Wright. We are all Carsons, but the tradition is that the first born sons are always called by their middle name until their father dies. So I am Jamal. And my father, Carson Anthony Wright, is “Tony.” I respect this tradition even though my oldest son’s name is off the charts. But I digress, as always.

My grandfather Chester, was one of the first Black police Sergeants in Queens, NY. In fact, the Wright family has a history with many members in law enforcement. It’s strange to me considering how many problems I’ve had with authority figures. But grandpa Chester wasn’t really much like me. He was a man of God and an Elder in St. Paul’s Pentecostal Church, an organization he helped to create with his wife, Dorothy Wright, my dear grandmother. It was the church I grew up in. and even now, over 50 years later, it thrives.

My great-uncle Irving
was killed two years after
I was born.

My dad’s favorite uncle, of my grandfather’s 11 brothers, was Irving Wright. He was a cop too. He also operated a small business in Harlem. Unfortunately, he met an untimely demise when he was shot in the back and killed by friendly fire from other cops who mistook him for a criminal who robbed his store. Irving was chasing the real culprits at the time of his murder, by cop.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

One may have expected my grandfather the cop to be bitter towards the streets or his job, after his brother was killed; my grandfather never was. In fact, he told me the following story:

Many years ago, before he was promoted to Sergeant but after his brother’s killing by cops, my grandfather was walking the beat when he saw a guy in the distance who appeared to be burglarizing a store. Grandpa held up his gun and ordered the culprit to freeze. The suspect turned around and brandished his own gun. At that time, grandpa realized that the suspect was just a teenager.

My grandfather hesitated on the trigger.

One of my biggest regrets in life is not serving at least a little time in the U.S. military, like my grandfather did.

The teenager shot my grandfather in the leg. Grandpa limped for the rest of his life from that injury. But immediately after the shooting, a prostitute who my grandfather had arrested several times, a big girl, threw him on her back and took him to the hospital.

A prostitute. Whom he had arrested a few times in the past.

My grandfather Chester is long gone from our realm now. But I often think of that prostitute. Why did she help him? My conclusion has been that my grandfather Chester must have treated her with respect and kindness, even through the process of booking her.

He must have realized that everybody deserves to be treated with respect and kindness. Even those you judge harshly. Even those you think you are better than. Your illusion of superiority, regardless of what you think may be a logical foundation, reflects badly on your character, more than that of those you judge. The lesson I take from his story, is this:

The way you treat people, matters. They may not remember what you say. But everybody remembers how you made them feel (an old quote from Maya Angelou). I believe it matters more than how much you are worth, monetarily.

The only real currency worth more than the American dollar, is the goodwill you create when you positively affect the lives of others. Even though goodwill is intangible, it is bankable. Ask any small businessman or entrepreneur. Or ask big business like Citibank who helps fund the NYC bike program at a huge financial loss.

You could even ask some of the richest people in the world. Many of whom have created so much wealth that they have signed a pledge to give away more than half of it.

It’s not hopeful karma. It’s real. Cause people in your life, will be your greatest resource if you treat them with individual kindness, respect and love. Essentially, how everybody wants to be treated. Money cannot love you when you need support. Sure, you can buy a nurse. but you can never make people really care about you or sacrifice for you, with money.

I’ve heard it said more than once that money can’t buy you love. Those are not just silly song lyrics. After decades of life, I must say I agree. Perhaps I’m naive to believe my dad when he teaches me that we all are responsible for each other. But how could I not? These beliefs have kept my family strong for generations before me.

I will be encouraging my children to invest in his relationships with the important people in their life. To treasure them. People will definitely disappoint them sometimes, for sure. People always find a way to disappoint. That’s why I don’t admire people, I admire actions. But the times people don’t disappoint my children, will make all the other times worth the trouble.

Now that’s optimism, even for me. But no more optimistic than believing a prostitute that you consistently harass, may save your life one day. One very bad day when she could have just turned around, and walked away.