Looking back, growing up in the Stitt household was something special. We lived on 93rd and Dunlap in Cleveland, Ohio. I was thirteen years old. Yes, we were the typical black family of the 1970s. There were seven people in our home, which consisted of four boys and one girl, and, of course, two parents. Our mom and dad were hard-working and determined to make sure we had the skills to be productive members of society. Our parents made us do chores. It was simple; do your assigned housework correctly and you could enjoy the comforts of life afterwards. For my parents, comforts consisted of eating dinner, being able to watch TV, and going outside to play. If our work wasn't done, we not only didn't get to enjoy those comforts, but most likely got our behinds whipped as well. Our mother would have us sit on the floor around her while she read Thoughts and Concepts from "The Chief" 5 stories to us. She had these seemingly huge, thick books that were filled with stories geared for children. Sometimes, she would just talk to us about integrity, loyalty, honor, and the importance of listening and following directions. My mother talked to us consistently about growing up and becoming "champions of life." That was one of her favorite phrases. She would say, "I want you all to become champions of life."