Then, last year, Sylvia enrolled her son in the Male Youth Project, a nearby after-school program run by three devoted men who act as surrogate fathers to some 60 boys, whipping them-sometimes literally–into shape. Drilled in everything from karate and nutrition to black history and art, Marcus bloomed. His grades got better (A’s and B’s) and he started making plans. Some of his aspirations sound a bit canned (“I wanna be a doctor, see the miracle of birth”), but there is evidence of genuine maturity: “I want to die seeing my children having things.”
These days Marcus is more reconciled to his informal house arrest. He fills in the time drawing, playing with a new poodle puppy and fiddling with a dilapidated bicycle that be hopes to turn someday into the world’s best BMX bike. “I want to invent something”, he says, “not for money, but to be able to look back and say, ‘I did that’.” But there are some signs that Marcus is starting to want more independence. “I don’t want her to go to school with me the first day because now I’m in junior high.” Hearing that, Sylvia shoots him a look. “I’m going to go with you through high school, " she replies. “For real?” Marcus squeaks. “I know it’s being a good mother and all, but…”
