Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Midwest Trip, Columbus, Ohio (Day 2)

If you stood across the street from the red brick building at 1150 East Main Street in Columbus on Tuesday night, at about 6 o'clock, you'd have seen a stream of people walking into the building through the front glass-doors -- most of them teenagers, all but a few African American. The boys wore baggy blue jeans and loose T-shirts, the girls in sundresses over jeans, or tight tops with long pants.

Judging from the unimpressive façade of the building, as well as the crowd, who looked like any other group of teens you'd find anywhere in America, you'd never have guessed that some of these young people were about to put on a dramatic display of dance and poetry fueled by raw emotion.

But that's exactly what happened inside the Central Community House, an 80-year-old institution located in the mostly poor southeast section of Columbus. It is a private, non-profit "settlement house" designed to strengthen family, neighborhood and community life. The young people we saw there Tuesday night blew us away with their break-dancing, drumming and poetry and rap performances.

First, the drums: Everyone with free hands was handed a hand drum and mallet, and the beat boomed on for 15 or 20 minutes.

Next, Damien, one of the few Caucasians in the crowd, was singled out for an affectionate sendoff; he was leaving Wednesday to join the Navy.

Tears welled in his eyes as a program director walked over for a hug, but Damien quickly pulled himself together to perform a rap reminiscent of Eminem. "Every time I speak, I'll make you FEEEEL it," was Damien's passionate refrain.

After loud applause, a dark-skinned beauty named Adora came forward with her friend Chaz. They took turns reciting poetry they'd written. She introduced herself quietly, then belted out her take on the legacy of a black slave.

Breaking the bonds for all to see, here are the hands that will set me free!
Say to the world, you can't keep me down!
I rose from your bondage, you will hear my sound!

Spreading the fingers of her hands, holding them in front of her, she practically shouted:

On each page of history, I will tell my story
Of how blacks like me achieved freedom and glory!

The clapping was thunderous for this young woman headed to Harvard this fall -- as it was also for her friend Chaz, who hopes to return to community college in Columbus, when he recited his poem, "Black Moses."

There was still more -- heart pumping break dancing: young men and women twirled on their heads and thrust their bellies. The building quaked.

Back in my motel room later that night, I read in the Columbus Dispatch that Ohio law enforcement officials have seen an increase in rape charges against boys as young as 11-14. I thought of the impression so many adults have of a troubled and violent younger generation. Indeed, some wrestle with serious problems. But if the skeptics could only have been at the Central Community House Tuesday night, they'd have seen something quite different -- enough to give pause to even the most cynical about this younger generation.

-- Judy Woodruff