About the author

 I was born in Albany, NY, and grew up in Schenectady, NY. Schenectady's history reaches back to Dutch colonization in the 17th century. Located on the Erie Canal, it was a vibrant manufacturing center by WWII, home to both General Electric and American Locomotive. However, by the 1980s, declining industrialization, economic decline, and poverty led to the city's label as another example of the Rust Belt. When I moved to Schenectady in 1980, the city held on to its strong immigrant ties from its industrial era. I grew up in an ethnically and racially diverse environment. My parent's house sat at the intersection of immigrant neighborhoods in Mont Pleasant, the predominately Black community on Hamilton Hill, and a federally funded housing project, Steinmetz Homes. Out of this cauldron of diversity, I forged a strong appreciation for those who did not look like me.

I developed strong relationships with basketball teammates at Mont Pleasant High. Long known as a stronghold for basketball talent, Schenectady's history included Pat Riley. His Linton team's defeat of Lew Alcindor's Power Memorial still echoes as a symbol of pride for the city. Schenectadians hung their hats on the success of their local high school basketball teams. Yet, etched in my memory are moments when I witnessed racial slights and slurs as part of the Mont Pleasant basketball program. My coach, Gary DiNola, himself an alum of Mont Pleasant, ingrained in us a sense of pride in our community. His no-nonsense approach to outworking opponents developed in me a work ethic and a belief that I could be someone more than naysayers suggested. And the slights led me to ask questions. Why did fans at other high schools treat my friends like this? So when I went to college as a history major, I sought answers.

I attended St. John Fisher College, a Catholic school in the Basilian tradition, in Rochester, NY, looking to give myself a chance to play basketball at a small NCAA Div. III school. Although I only played junior varsity basketball for two seasons, I found my niche as a history major. Teaching would allow me to give back to kids like myself from 'the neighborhood' who needed someone to believe in them. I student taught in inner-city Rochester, only blocks from the Eastman-Kodak plant. This experience encouraged my desire to teach in an urban school district. Unfortunately, teaching positions were few in New York in the mid-1990s, so I would need to pack up and find a new home if I wanted to teach immediately.

Following graduation from SJFC in 1994, I landed a position in the Memphis City School District at Sheffield High. Without reservation, I jumped at the opportunity to teach in Memphis' inner city. I constructed my identity to be much more like my students' than they realized. As a New Yorker, I was able to navigate racial barriers because of my outsider status. Yet, as I began to connect with the Memphis community, I began to have a deeper understanding of the racial divides that have so long separated us. After two years as an assistant basketball coach, I became Sheffield's head varsity boys' basketball coach at 25, one of only four white head coaches in Memphis City Schools. Over the next five years, I developed friendships within the basketball coaching fraternity in the city.

 My first principal at Sheffield High, Margaret Kiihnl, always told me that before I met her, "I didn't have a job, a house, a wife, or kids. Now, look at you." Shortly after arriving in Memphis, I began attending Christ United Methodist Church, where I met a cute red-headed girl from Hernando, MS. We were both suckers for accents. Me for a Mississippi accent, and her for a New York accent. In December of 1995, I married the love of my life, Sheri Wadsworth. Eighteen months later, we welcomed the first of three sons, Cameron, into the world in June 1997. Our second son joined the team in the fall of 1999, Chandler. So, true to Kiihnl's prophesy, life now included all those things.

Following a principal change at Sheffield, I moved to Millington Central High School in northwest Shelby County as a history teacher and boys' head basketball coach. One of seven county schools in the Shelby County School System, MCHS served a diverse socio-economic community, including students whose parents were stationed at the local Naval base, students who lived in section-8 housing, and students from rural areas that farmed. This eclectic group allowed me to create a comfortable place to be uncomfortable. To create an environment ripe for growth while grappling with historical issues. While at MCHS, I began teaching the Facing History and Ourselves elective, a curriculum that uses the Holocaust as a case study to understand injustices and the human behavior that led to genocide.

Soon after arriving at MCHS, we welcomed our third son, Carson, to the team. While coaching the varsity basketball team, teaching five classes, and raising three children, I completed my master's in history at the University of Memphis. In graduate school, I focused on coursework that I believed would make me a better teacher for my classroom's diverse group of students. After my mother passed in 2000, I promised myself I would complete my MA, as it was always her desire to see me earn a graduate degree. After completing my MA comprehensive exams, my committee recommended the doctoral program. Unable to fund further graduate studies, I focused on meeting the needs of my students.

Following another principal change, I was moving again—this time to Christian Brothers HS in Memphis. A Catholic school in the LaSallian tradition, my academic roots at St. John Fisher prepared me to enter another new community. My new role did not include coaching, but it offered the opportunity to return to grad school and complete my doctorate in history. Under Aram Goudsouzian, I began my search for a unique dissertation topic. After initially considering the Memphis Red Sox, the city's Negro leagues organization, I decided on local basketball icon Larry Finch. This new pursuit allowed me to combine two passions, history and basketball. The relationships forged as a high school basketball coach connected me on a deeper level with the city's basketball community. This enabled a grassroots approach to studying Memphis' troubled racial past through sport. Instead of speaking with an unknown academic, the interviewees shared their stories with a friend from the basketball fraternity. My dissertation, "Larry Finch's Memphis," later became my first published work, Memphis Hoops: Race, Basketball, and the City, 1968-1997.