fountain
John W. Fountain biography
A native son of Chicago’s West Side, John W. Fountain is an award-winning journalist, professor, and author of the memoir True Vine: A Young Black …Read More
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Parents can’t ward off all danger
When things go bump in the night, I arise. Usually, it is the settling sounds and creaking of the house that make me climb out of bed to investigate. On the way, I look in on the kids — my teenage daughter and pre-teen son. …Read More
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Spirit of revival where it is needed
The summer night breathed with the sounds of a tent revival in the open air. Beneath the glowing big top a few years ago, members of the black Baptist congregation on the West Side sat in folding chairs. A fiery preacher spewed the word of …Read More
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The world’s ‘end’ is time to make a fresh start
On the day the world was supposed to end, I found myself near the Caribbean coastal town of Xcaret, Mexico, not far from where ancient Mayan ruins stand — blue waters gently rolling. I hadn’t necessarily planned to be here on Dec. 21 — the …Read More
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Baker moves like jazz man all night
“If a man is called to be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry.” — Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The electrophonic sound of jazz and funk fuse with the sure, nimble fingers of …
Learning life’s lessons from a ‘master’
OK, first I had to get over calling another man “Master.” It didn’t hurt that this master could kick my butt and also put a few lumps upside my head — a la Bruce Lee. It was my son’s fault that I was even in …
A student who defies labels
Meet “Dan the Man.” That’s what I call him affectionately on school days as I enter my classroom at Roosevelt University. Some know him as “Podmandan.” He is half man, half amazing. A podcaster. Blogger. Journalist. Student. Public speaker. Award-winning Special Olympian. Computer lab aid. …
Dreamers inspire us to never give up
Meet Bobby the Bluebird, Anthony the Alligator, Isaac the Iguana and Paul the Purple Panda. If they don’t steal your child’s heart or lead them down a memorable, tongue-twisting path of alphabetic fun, then Ulysses the Unicorn or Veronica the Vulture will. These are among …
When will all this bloodshed end?
News item: On Monday afternoon, a gunman opened fire at a South Side church where funeral services were held for a slain gang member, killing one and critically wounding another. That evening, in a separate incident, a 15-year-old girl, an apparent unintended target, was fatally …
My words on race got readers going
In response to my Nov. 8 column, “Racism: the drunk we try to ignore,” a reader writes: “Mr. Fountain, Shame you. …You have gone over the ledge, with your anticipation of ‘racism’ in the USA. I DO have great black friends & mentors. You have …
A second chance, a life transformed
Unbroken. One bullet to the head. Another to the neck that severed an artery. One in the shoulder. And yet, Stephanie Powe was unbroken — not a single bone fractured. A glass eye, a bullet still lodged in her neck and partial paralysis. Yet, she …
Racism: the drunk we try to ignore
From a reader: “I read your articles. . . . If u keep writing about racism, it will never go away. I view many of ur writings as u being a racist. We just don’t talk tho bout black racists!!” Shhhh. . . . Close …
I’m voting for best man for the job, not ‘voting black’
In my best Bernie Mac voice, I’m voting again for Barack Obama, “’cause he ain’t heavy, America, he’s my brother.” A homeboy from Chi-Town with presidential swag. My soul brother by another mother. He just might end up strutting his stuff all the way back …
Even President Obama gets ‘angry black man’ label
I am an ABM. No, not an anti-ballistic missile. An “Angry Black Man.” Or so some have called me. I am a native son, born brown-skinned in Bigger Thomas’ town. How often I have stared into the psychological looking glass that has led too many …
Pleasing God by helping people
On an inconspicuous corner of thirsting souls one cold autumn afternoon in Harlem, I saw the hands of God. I also saw them here in Chicago, at a makeshift market on the West Side, at a place known as Breakthrough, where the poor and needy …
Teaching isn’t a popularity contest
I stood in front of my students at Roosevelt University this week, clutching an envelope and asking for a student volunteer before making my exit so they could grade me as their professor without fear of retribution. I carefully read the teacher instructions, urging my …
Words from father to daughter
Today’s column is composed of words written to my daughter, now 16. Perhaps in them are lessons, love and lifting for all daughters. The occasion: The giving of a purity ring Today I give you this gift. A symbol of my love as your father. …
Words of hope inspire others
It was a letter from a young brother. A reminder of my life on the other side of the tracks. Of those left behind, of the need still for hope there and of the possibilities that can loom on the other side of midnight, if …
Make hog heaven a safer place
Two months, umpteen buckets of sunshine, and nearly 2,000 miles on my Harley, I am still cruising along in hog heaven. All geared up and rolling across the interstates, over green country roads, bugs splatting on my windshield, jeans flapping in the wind and the …
Hip-hop morphed, became perverted
Way black when, before hip-hop became religion, grandmothers were grandmothers and everybody went to church on Sunday mornings. Like Stevie Wonder: I wish those days could come back once more . . . The smell of pot roast wafted through the house. Streets outside were …
The walk that talked: When cool went cold
Back in the day, I was never completely dressed until I had climbed into my “pimp walk.” The transformation usually took place on special occasions like Easter and Christmas. When I got all decked out it, I would strut out of the bathroom, feeling like …
