FOUNDER

For most of my life I have been conscious of being aware of things beyond my knowing,

perception beyond my years and protection beyond my doing. The synergy of these

forces

have

preserved my life in many situations where in I was not capable of defending

myself. This has

allowed me to experience things and survive to gain from the experience.

journey

through life

is laced with incidents that reflect the presence of a force or power

independent

of me and

greater than m

self

. I did not know why I felt the presence of this

knowing. Rather, I did not accept

that I knew why. So, I retreated from fully embracing the

knowing and minimized instead of

maximizing. This free will allowed me to turn away

as a

younger,

from

what I now face.

I am the son of my mother, and her mother and her mother before her and so on and so

and

so on. Now before anyone goes into a panic, I am also the son of my father but not

the same

way. My affinity to my mother is based more on what she did and my affinity to

father is based

more on what he did not do. There are no excuses and no judgments. It

what it is. I accept it as

so and have done so for more then 50 years. Through this

dichotomy

of my experiences I can

clearly trace the line of my development from my

earliest conscious

memories to the present, in

an unbroken, unwavering line from my

mother and other strong

women whose contributions

fortify the foundation on which I stand.

I am the son of my mother. I have resonated and vibrated in her teachings from the earliest

times. I am anchored in the values she taught me through how she lived. Her words still

echo

within me where she now lives. I go forth in her name. My spirit reflects the synergy

her

teaching. As I zigged and zagged through the trials and tribulations of the journey to

masculine

adulthood I wandered in and out of strong compliance with the center core

values

of her

teachings. But never did I wander far enough to break the tethers that tie me

to my

humanity and

to what I was to discover later on the journey is manhood.

The ageless timeless little inner voice that tirelessly urged me to go beyond my present

circumstance or condition, to look beyond the surface issues that consume your energy

and

life

force and move back to the center. In the midst of working, playing, socializing

and living

in the

day to day I would hear it calling me to a higher purpose, consoling me

when the

violations were

to great and directing me back to alignment with the center core

values

to stand against the

forces that I knew were negative and destructive.

In my early teens I answered this calling and was an active positive force in the community.

With

the passion and

the

zeal of my youth I stood ready to take on the world, and fix it. It

was

the sixties;

there was Viet Nam, Civil Rights, the Panthers, Malcolm, Martin and Watts. I

was enriched by

trying to serve all of them and make sense of my humanity. My most

fervent wish, hope and

prayer during these times was that I could stand in the center of all

this chaos and be a beacon

and a lightening rod to show the way back to humanity.

During the next five years I

completed high school and attended college but,

was just

going through the motions. After the murder of Martin Luther King

Jr.

I was truly

dismayed.

I threw myself into various grass roots organizations and situations

trying

to regain my

equilibrium and reset my moral compass. This journey took me from

Providence, Rhode

Island to

Boston, Mass, Hartford, Conn, Washington, DC, Newark, NJ,

Philadelphia, PA,

East Orange, NJ,

Detroit, MI, Kalamazoo, MI, Chicago, ILL, Los Angeles,

Baton

Rouge, LA and a host of

other places.

In 1973 still reeling from the upheaval and unsettling in my spirit my journey took me to

Paris

Island, South Carolina and the uniform of the United States Marine Corps. From that

experience

I took away two honorable discharges and a clear understanding that the

military does

not

build

men at least not men whose stature is predicated in manhood.

Manhood and being a man in the

dominant culture are not the same thing and only

someone without knowledge of what it takes to

be a man would dispute it.

I married in 1995 and fathered a daughter in 1977. Witnessing her birth jolted me in a way

that I

had never been moved before. I took 30 days leave and bought a rocking chair. I

held and

rocked her for the duration of the 30 days. Within three years of my daughters’

birth I was

divorced, caused by the usual suspects. Lack of this not enough of that, the

same old familiar

story passed from father to son for generations. My daughter, Shenica

Renee Graham remains

a force and power in my life to this day.

After my divorce I was propelled on still steeped in the lack of this and not enough of that,

in my

character. I journeyed through several relationships, numerous jobs more

education, more

materialism and struggled with my increasing need to be centered in

something meaningful and

to make a difference. For the next 11 years I squandered life,

life energy and my life force on

nothingness. Never giving all I had, never knowing all I had

to give. Just going through the

motions doing enough to get through and not cross into the

negative. Somewhere amid the

methodical routine business of the day to day I became

conscious of the little voice calling me to

a higher purpose and I yearned to answer it with

my life. I began to listen to the rumblings of my

spirit. I began to weigh my responsibility to

do something. I began to write thoughts, ideas and

poetry. I gave this voice attention and

fed the growing need to act.

In 1995 while working for the Naval Supply Center Detachment at the Naval Shipyard in

Long

Beach, California I transferred to the parent organization, The Naval Supply Center

San Diego,

California.

This transfer set the stage for phenomenal growth and

development. To this day I cannot explain

exactly why I agreed, actually volunteered to

make this transfer at this time in my life. I left all my

friends, my social network and work

acquaintances. All of my material possessions went to

storage so I lived in hotels, out of

my suitcase and the trunk of my car. During my stay in San

Diego I felt displaced for the

first time in all my travels, something was different, I could not seem

to connect in the

community or at work in any meaningful way. I worked harder, instituted

improvements,

increased production at work and reached out in the community.

Nothing I did fulfilled me.

he void widened, I could not find my place.

In 1996 I became the Poet laureate for the San Diego local Organizing Committee of the

Million

Man March. My writings grew, I found my voice, expressions were alive. I began

doing poetry

recitals at an African American bookstore in San Diego and participated in

the Community Actors

Theater I still could not connect in San Diego. After three months of

living in hotels I rented an

apartment in Lemon Grove, California, a suburb of San Diego.

Now, I was surrounded by my

things. I quickly learned that the presence of my things, my

diligence at work and my exploits in

the community had no effect on what was moving

inside me. I watched the power and the

promise of the million man march dissipate and

dissolve into memories as the usual suspects

diverted back to being their usual selves.

But, t

he rumbling in my spirit steadily grew louder and I began to acknowledge what was

formerly

unthinkable. I can no longer do what I am doing, making widgets in the name of

making money to

support my materialism. For about 60 days I was constantly in prayer,

seeking, searching asking

for direction. It became incre

singly harder for me to get up and

go to work. This was a whole

new experience for me. I began to experience feeling tired,

weak and depressed at the idea of

continuing my employment. It seemed that a force or

power had entered my life and everything

was twisted and flipped upside down. I

struggled to hold things together but I knew change was

coming

and nothing would ever

be the same

I was evolving, becoming, coming to be.

Somewhere during this time period I was asked to teach a class for African American

males in

support of a program for them in the San Diego city school system. I was excited

by this

opportunity although I did not know what I would present. Power and anticipation

were building

and the event was two months away. This presentation became my focus

and I began to direct

my creative energy into it. At some point during the next few weeks I

decided the presentation I

would deliver would be titled Walking the Talk the road to

manhood. Over the next five or six

weeks I formalized my presentation. On the afternoon

before the presentation I did not have the

one piece I needed to introduce the training.

needed something no one have ever seen.

After hours of prayer and contemplation the

idea of

footprints became firmly entrenched in

my spirit. I rushed out to the local dollar

store just minutes

before it closed. I purchased

five pair of black, size 11 ½ flip-flops. I

went home and cut the

straps off and stacked them

up like pancakes. These flat images

of feet were used in such a

way that the presentation

riveted the training participants to

the front of their seats. They leaned

forward throughout

the presentation reminiscent of

little birds reaching to be fed. Footprints

became the

enduring symbol of Walking the Talk.

Over the next two months I continued to

expand the

depth of the workshop material. I

would facilitate two more workshops in San Diego in

the

following months. Several days

after one of the workshops the grandmother of one of the

young male attendees called me

and Said “her grandson had attended the training and

was

trying to practice the tenet

values in his behavior” she wanted to know if I had any

books or other

materials she could

use to help him. I began writing a workbook to meet

this need.

Three months after the presentation I went home for the Labor Day weekend and never

returned

to work. On the Tuesday after Labor Day Monday I resigned from my paying

position with the

federal government in San Diego, California in 1996. I had no source of

income, on savings, and

no plan to resign when I resigned. I knew I had come to a place

in my life where I could no longer

justify making widgets for money. I needed to address

the little voice that was calling to me more

insistently to do something to make a difference.

I knew at this point that my move to San Diego

was a move to facilitate the change that

was occurring inside me and I could never go back. My

income, my retirement, my

perceived safety nets were gone in one day without warning and

without preparation.

I did not know what I as going to do or how I was going to do it. I prayed, I gave up my

connection to materialism and began a journey of faith. I vowed at the beginning of this

journey

to go where I needed to go and do what ever I needed to do. I was filled with

uncertainty. I felt

vulnerable. I fought back the fear of not knowing and the approaching

uncertainty of how to pay

the bills. Yet in this time of turmoil I found peace and calm inside

myself that was anchored in the

knowledge that I had finally come to terms with what I was

supposed to do and I was taking the

first baby steps on the journey that would take me

where I was supposed to go. Three weeks

after I resigned the Government Personnel

Office that deals with retirement contacted me. The

Lady on the line asked me if I was

sitting down, I said I was not and started to sit down, but I

continued to stand. She said “Mr.

Graham I think you should sit down. I said “no thank you it’s

ok” She then told me that the

retirement money I had requested and should have received was

not available to me. She

went on to explain that when I came into the federal government the

clerk that processed

my retirement registration mistakenly enrolled me in the wrong retirement

plan and all the

funds I had contributed during my employment had to be sent to the social

security

administration, by law. There was nothing she could do for me.

She was very apologetic as was I. I thanked her and we said good-by. When she told me

what

had happened and their would not be any retirement funds for me, in that instance I

felt my

knees flinch as though they would buckle, and in that same instance they were

strengthened and

a voice within me said “It does not matter.” I repeated this into the

telephone and into my

consciousness. “It does not matter.” I have repeated this to myself

many times on my journey

since this incident. I remained in San Diego for several more

months after this incident. I

published my first book and layed the ground work for three

other books that would ultimately be

published in Georgia. Prior to leaving San Diego I

taught the principles and concepts from the

training to some middle school students and to

a group of young men in a juvenile facility. The

experience at the juvenile facility has been

a conscious companion since that day. The young

men I had been asked to speak to were

in a unit that housed juvenile males that had committed

homicides. Many of the young men

were involved in multiple homicides. Some for the males were

involved in drug trafficking.

About six months prior to my visit the San Diego community had been shocked by the story

of a

13-year-old male that was arrested for a multiple homicide. The story goes that on

Saturday

afternoon the young male walked through his house and shot his mother, father,

grandmother,

and grandfather with a shotgun. On Sunday morning the young man was

seen in Home Depot

holding hands with his eight year old female cousin. The young man

bought an ax. On Sunday

the Police were called to the home by neighbors. The police

found the parents, grandparents

and the little girl whose head had been severed from her

body by an ax. This young man was in

this unit.

It was a Sunday approximately three o’clock in the afternoon. I arrive with a wide array of

notes

and visual aids. I intended to bring fire and brimstone. I expected to witness tears

and cries of

repentance from the young men. I entered the facility and was immediately

led into the room

where the meeting would take place. It was a large room like a suite that

had many doors. Each

door led to a smaller room. One juvenile male occupied each room.

I was informed that there

were 28 young men. The large room had approximately 30

folding chairs set up in four rows.

The rows were in the form of a half circle per my

request. In front of the first row there was a

podium. I placed my notes on the podium and

stood between the podium and the first row of

chairs. I turned my back to the chairs and

struck a pose in which I folded my arms in front of me

and bent my upper body at the waist

to the right. I signaled for the young men to be brought into

the room.

The young men entered the room with a flurry of activity. There were sounds of talking,

bumping

into chairs, greetings and there were questions. Who is that? What is he doing?

And the sounds

of the supervisors trying to get them to sit down and quiet down. I held my

pose throughout their

entry. When they were sufficiently quiet I relinquished my pose and

turned around. I was

shocked. My knees started to buckle; I fought to keep tears from

forming in my eyes. I was

ashamed. I wanted to fall down and cry. They were little boys,

frail and fragile. Innocence and

naivety adorned their faces. I regained my composure, I

greeted them and asked them if I could

sat down. They said yes so I took a chair from the

first row and straddled it with the back of the

chair facing them. I put all if my notes on the

floor. I looked into their faces

for a moment then I began by saying “we have to talk.” I

spent the best part of the next two hours

with these young men. I do not remember what all

we talked about but I do remember how we

ended. I thanked the young men for allowing

me to come into their presence. And I told them to

stay strong. Then I was shocked once

again. One of the young men raised his hand and asked

me if I would come back and

recite love poetry for them. As I was leaving the facility I came upon

the guard that had

asked me to come to speak to the young men. She thanked me and said she

knew the

young men appreciated what I had to say. I thanked her for inviting me.

I never returned to those young men, but I carry them with me as I carry all of the young

men and

young women that have taught me and thereby contributed to my humanity. I will

always struggle

with teaching and sharing with people knowing you may never see them

again. Through the

years I am learning that

It is not about them or me, it is about us, the

whole, the world community Whether you look out

from behind a black face or a white

face, an asian face, or through Hispanic eyes, or the eyes of

a Native American. Whether

you eyes are young or old we are tied and we are

responsible.

My last attempt to contribute in the San Diego community was at a community forum. I

cannot

remember what the central topic was but at some point during the exchanges I

offered to the

dialogue that “in order to change the behavior we were addressing we would

have to change our

values that anchor our behavior.” The way the dialog went after that

offering further revealed to

me that we are steeped in a mindset from which we can not

see the forest because of the many

trees, and that on this journey I would be like a voice

crying in the wilderness.

I began fulfilling my responsibility to be a life-long learner. I read more books and

researched

more issues in the next seven years than I had read or researched in the

previous 40 years.

During this period I wrote eleven books and developed cutting edge

training materials for

understanding and teaching values, behavior, womanhood and

manhood. I have been lifted up

by some close friends and family and I have learned to do

more with less.

My journey has taken me on national tours with African American Women on Tour,

teaching

young males the values, virtues, rights and responsibilities of manhood and the

power of African

history and culture. To teaching teachers in the Professional

Development for teachers in the

Atlanta Public Schools. To teaching the values and

virtues of manhood and womanhood to

young adults in training with YouthBuildUSA. I have

worked with, taught and trained adults and

youth in faith based and community

organizations which included summer programs and after

school programs in addition to

training adults and youth in several middle schools, high schools

and the juvenile systems

in several major cities. My journey has also taken me to the United

Kingdom where I taught

adults and youth. I have trained adults and youth, females and males

representing various

races, cultures and groups with the Universal Manhood/Womanhood Model

and the tools

and techniques for development.

I have been on this leg of my journey for 13 years. I have learned and grown immensely in

center core values and my intimate understanding over this time. The little voice that

accompanied me here is still with me but its flavor and direction has changed. We have

matured

into the call and response relationship of thanks and praise, for all we have been

allowed to

experience, for all the doors that continue to open and all the opportunities that

continue to pave

the way forward.

San Diego represents my incubation, my rebirth and my renewal. It was there that I came

terms with the little voice of my childhood. I made life-changing decisions that required

many

personal sacrifices and I let go of my preoccupation with materialism, things of the

world and the

weaknesses of my flesh. In San Diego I began the conscious journey to be a

beacon and a

lightening rod to show the way back to my humanity. Now, at this juncture of

my journey it is

clear to me that the lighting rod I envisioned in my youth was destined to

be raised through the

development of the Universal Manhood/Womanhood Model. The

model has been built now the

journey is for us to raise the model inside every people, in

every nation.

To everyone that I have offended on this journey, Please Forgive Me.

To everyone that has offended me on this journey, You are Forgiven.

Bio:

Cary is an internationally known poet, author, workshop presenter and values development
trainer. He is the presiding Elder for Boy's Rites of Passage, and the Founder/Director of
Walking the Talk, an organization dedicated to educating, nurturing and empowering males and
females in the high values that anchor proper development in manhood, womanhood and good
citizenship.

Cary has provided a variety of services to the Adoption/Foster Care arena, the Faith Based
Community, the Juvenile Justice System, the Public School System and to many
community-based organizations. Cary has authored 11 books. He is a master teacher and a
guiding light in the proper spiritual development of youth.

Elder Cary D. Graham

FOUNDER/DIRECTOR
CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSAL MANHOOD/WOMANHOOD MODEL

Walking the Talk was founded in 1996.

How Walking the Talk Started Walking.

Keynote Speaker: Dynamic presentations that will not be forgotten.
Once you experience the power, the passion and the poetry of this
master teacher you will be empowered.

Spiritual Coach / Counselor: One
on One telephone sessions to help you
clear the way to spiritual enlightenment.

$60.00 per hour in advance

Deposit 40% Final Payment
to hold your date.

Elder Graham is also available for the empowerment of the
community in the following capacities.

Nothing just happens;
everything is based on something.