Concrete Dreams Deferred: A Keith Gibbs Street Saga
Written by: Ethan Brisby
The success stories of the 21st century come in all varieties. Everyone has a story and that story has value when shared with people in similar story lines. I enjoy learning people's lifestyle stories and listening as they define their very existence by recalling times some good ,some bad. This is the story of a young man I met a few years ago while he was working at a local coffee shop.
From
December 3, 1996 until May 7, 2002, Keith Gibbs was known as inmate
#785035. Prior, to going to prison, Gibbs was a promising young man and basketball
player at Bryan High School. He made a series of poor decisions including selling drugs, so in his words, “I could get a fresh pair of the
Charles Barkley’s. Everybody on the team had ‘em,” Gibbs explains as he looks
out the window of his Bryan apartment. Now he is the founding member of “ConcreteMovement.” He describes it as a movement of peace and love, and Gibbs spreads
it throughout the community with conscious music, Concrete Movement brand clothing,
and vibes.
Basketball was first love
If
you ask someone about the man described above, they may know him as “Cross”
instead of Keith. That’s because there’s a time when Gibbs was a Crossover King
on the basketball court. The crossover is a move when the offensive player aggressively
jabs one way only to cross over to the other hand as a way to create space
between himself and the defender (Allen Iverson made the move popular in the90s). I could sense his energy escalate as he began to recall stories of
playing at the Boys and Girls Club as a youth when 40+ scoring performances were the norm
for he and his friends.
“Brandon
Person, Mike Tates, Byron Person, Fred Payton…, we are the reason the best
player has to stay out one quarter at the Boys and Girls Club,” Cross explains
as to why now at the Boys & Girls Club of the Brazos Valley, every player
has to sit one quarter. “My high night at the Club was 56 points,” he continues.
Fast
forward to senior year in high school. The Bryan native is a member of the
varsity basketball team, when he decides he needs to keep up with his
classmates, and purchase a pair of the new Charles Barkley sneakers.
I
remember those first CB34s as a nicely designed pair of basketball shoes with a unique
color scheme. So they were popular and comfortable to wear in-games and around campus. Cross, like so many young boys had to learn how economics works, the hard way. The demand for the Nike made
shoe was so high the price was too much for his parent’s hourly income.
“I
bought a lotto ticket to see if I could win me some money for the shoes. That
didn’t work, so I went to the hood, and got me some rocks to flip,” he explains.
The streets is watching
Cross,
like so many street drug dealers, designed his plan, and began working it. He
knew he needed to be where his customers were, so he had to find his way into
the inner city. So to cut down his commute from home to the hood, he decided to
bring his drugs to school, since Bryan High is closer to the inner city than his
family’s house was. That way he could go straight to the hood after school to
hustle crack.
In
the 1980s, a less dangerous form of cocaine freebase was invented: crack
cocaine. When cocaine powder is mixed with baking soda to form a paste and
heated, the substance hardens into rocks. This led directly to America’s
'War on Drugs,' which went full throttle in the 1980s when crack cocaine became
a new phenomenon in inner city communities. Conspirators, along with some
politicians and journalist believe the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) worked
to ensure crack made its way onto the ghetto streets.
By
1996 more than half the inmates in American prisons were sentenced on drug charges. Subsequently, on August 3, 2010, President Barack Obama signed
the Fair Sentencing Act of 2010. Per the Sentencing Project, "the minimum
quantity of crack cocaine that triggers a 5-year mandatory minimum from 5 grams
to 28 grams, and from 50 grams to 280 grams to trigger a 10-year mandatory
minimum sentence.
“October
3, 1995, I got called out of class by the principal. The cops eventually
searched me. The cops had to search me two times before he found it on me. All I
could say when they found it is, y’all got me,” Gibbs confessed.
Test
results from the package revealed the substance found on Keith to be crack
cocaine.
On September 1, 1995, the Texas Legislature passed Drug Free Zone meaning the crime the young man committed came with a mandatory minimum five year sentence. He violated a strict law
that had been effective less than 45 days prior. The incident would send the 18
year old’s life into a tailspin, in the form of a five year prison sentence.
Jail ain’t the spot
I
sat listening to Keith Gibbs describe his time in the prison system for half an
hour. As I listened, I could relate to the nightmarish state an 18 year old is faced
with when it’s time to face the consequences of a bad decision. While I did not
serve time in a prison, I saw the inside of Harris County jail as a 19 year
old, and I knew then, jail is not the spot. Gibbs continued to willingly share
details about his time locked up.
“Early
on, I got handled by an Old School for mouthing off. I played it cool though,
because I thought I was serving 18 months. I didn't know about the 'Drug Free Zone' when I got locked up. Come to find out, because I was
at a school when I got charged, I had to serve my whole sentence. It wasn’t
that long after, I went rounded up a crew, and we went to work on ‘em. I went
straight for the Old School,” Cross revealed.
This
was followed by a transfer from the unit, followed by more fighting, and more
transfers. I thought maybe playing ball got thrown away somehow within all this
while in prison. When I asked him about it, he didn’t waste a second proving me
wrong.
“I
was balling out in there! They couldn’t stop me,” he gleamed.
He
smiled a few times talking about different experiences during the five years he
served in the prison system. No smile was more prominent than the one when he got
to the end of his prison saga.
“May
7, 2002, I walked out free, with no papers. I did my whole time,” Cross
described.
He
went on to say he came out with a bag full of raps. Thus the entrepreneur/rapper
Cross was born.
Keith Gibbs and the “Concrete
Movement”
When
you talk to Keith Gibbs he has a certain grateful humility in his voice. He
seems connected with the earth. He says he has a spiritual connection with his
hair, which is halfway down his back in locs.
“When
I don’t have nothing else, I have my dreads,” he details.
His
time in prison certainly shaped his beliefs as an adult. After being trapped in
a cage and subsequently living life with a criminal record, dealing with the
situations that come with that, he is choosing now, to be a leader
within his community with conscious music. His words speak to a hip hop
audience about a better lifestyle rooted in love. His Concrete Movement brand clothing
are popping up all over the hood like dimes of crack once did, and the vibes
are right.
“The
Movement is concrete, because it’s filled with substance. It’s a mixture of
positive particles that have its own texture. I like to think of it as a
positive movement of particles,” he analyzed.
I
noticed a distinct difference in his eye contact, tone, and body language when
the conversation turned to Concrete. He’s found a zeal for something new in the
free world outside of basketball.
Now
its about positive vibes and music for community enrichment. Cross’ Movement is
grassroots and mostly underground dealing directly with the people. He talks
about artists he sees now that he would like to collaborate with.
“I
want to work with everybody in Bryan off the muscle,” he said.
He
also mentioned Houston’s D-Gotti, 3-2, Trey the Truth, and Scareface as artists
he either has worked with or would like to collaborate with through music and
community based programming. He later added up and coming J. Cole to that list.
“J. Cole, he know what time it is. He know
love is key,” Gibbs acknowledges.
Some
may know the Gibbs family for their music sense. Keith’s father has played
drums for nearly 30 years in the popular band, Eugene Eugene. Eugene Eugene
remains an electric band in restaurants, at street concerts, and during special
events. I guess you can say Keith got his ear for music from his father. His
uncle also plays guitar and sings.
While
a life full of lessons and a family with music roots helps Cross in his quest,
he had but one piece of advice when push to offer, “Grow your locs.”
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