Youth Summit Essay Finalist
- The Miles Hall Foundation
- Mar 6
- 5 min read
Updated: May 5
Building Black Brotherhood: Reflections from the Breaking Barriers Youth Summit
In February, we held our latest Breaking Barriers Youth Summit, where one of the core themes was Building Black Brotherhood. As part of the event, we invited participants to write a reflective essay on their experiences with forming and sustaining strong male friendships. We encouraged them to consider how these relationships have shaped their lives—whether they've struggled to build connections, and how The Miles Hall Foundation’s Breaking Barriers to Build Black Brotherhood Youth Event may have impacted their journey.
We asked participants, if they wished, to submit an essay for review. We’d select one as the best to receive a prize and select two others at random to also receive incentives.
We're proud to share the top essay below, written by Kiminou Knox—an athlete, scholar, writer, and young leader. His deeply moving reflection was a standout, and we are thrilled to celebrate both his writing and his recently published book.
Following the essay, we’ve included a video of Kiminou sharing how the summit influenced his thinking and sense of connection.
Congratulations, Kiminou!
Top Essay - February 2025
My name is Kiminou Knox. I’m 18, an athlete, a scholar, a writer, and a young man navigating what it
means to truly become a man in the absence of the one who gave me life.
The weight of not having my father present has been a constant undercurrent in my pursuit of excellence. It has shaped my understanding of what it means to be strong, pushing me to redefine masculinity and identity on my own terms. The absence of his guidance has often felt like a void, a reminder that I must work harder, reach higher, and prove not just my worth but my ability to rise above the challenges life has placed before me.
In seeking to build strong male friendships, I have confronted the fear that vulnerability might be seen as weakness. Yet, I’ve learned that true brotherhood isn’t defined by stoicism or silence. It is rooted in authenticity, trust, and the shared experiences of rising together.These relationships have become the mirrors in which I see not just the man I am today, but the man I am becoming, someone who can lean into the support of others, acknowledging that true strength
lies in connection and mutual growth.
A transformative moment in this journey was my participation in The Miles Hall Foundation’s “Breaking Barriers to Build Black Brotherhood Youth Event.” This experience reinforced my belief in the power of community and showed me that genuine connection thrives in spaces of trust and understanding.
Through simple icebreakers, open conversations, and shared stories, I witnessed the strength that emerges when young Black men come together with a common purpose. These moments have deepened my commitment to fostering meaningful relationships, proving that our collective resilience is built not just on surviving but on uplifting one another.
There is a kind of emptiness that lingers when you realize you have been living without
something you never knew you desperately needed. It is the sudden weight of absence, the
recognition of a void that was always there but never named. For many, this is a personal reckoning.
But for Black men in America, this absence is historical, systemic, and deeply personal all at once,
the loss of safety, of dignity, of the right to simply be.
Taun Hall, Miles Hall’s mother knows this void intimately. She carries the unspeakable grief of losing her son to police brutality, a grief that countless Black mothers before her have been forced to bear. It is a pain that echoes through generations, where Black masculinity has been under siege not only in moments of violence but through a slow and deliberate dismantling of identity, dignity, and power. This loss feels irretrievable because it was never just about one man or one life; it is the theft of an entire people’s sense of self.
To be Black and male in America is to live under an unspoken expectation of survival, as if simply
existing is an act of defiance. Our strength is often weaponized against us, our vulnerability erased,
our creativity stifled, and our potential questioned before it can fully blossom. The institutions
designed to serve us, policing, education, economics, are functioning precisely as intended.
Recognizing this systemic injustice is not an act of surrender but a call to build anew. In this process
of rebuilding, I have come to understand the significance of the cultural expressions that bind us
together as Black men. I learned the true meaning of the dap, a handshake that is more than just a
greeting but a symbol of unity, resilience, and solidarity born from the struggle of Black soldiers
during the Vietnam War. It is a wordless affirmation of trust, a silent promise that we stand together
in a world that often seeks to divide us.
At the same time, my exploration of history led me to the roots of hip-hop in New York, where Clive Campbell, known as DJ Kool Herc, helped lay the foundation for a movement that would become a global force. Hip-hop was never just music. It was a response, a reclaiming of voice and space, a defiant act of creation in the face of systemic erasure. It was a culture built from the ground up by young Black men who refused to be ignored, proving that our artistry and innovation could never be silenced.
Yet, despite our undeniable contributions, we have been forced to contend with the weight of propaganda that has long sought to define us as nothing more than the help or the thief. From the earliest depictions of Black men in the media to modern narratives that paint us as inherently dangerous, this distortion has served to justify oppression while stripping us of our complexity and humanity. The world has been conditioned to see our presence as a threat rather than a gift, our potential as a risk rather than an opportunity.
But knowledge is power, and understanding this history arms us with the ability to dismantle false
narratives and reclaim our story. It reminds me that every dap exchanged, every cypher formed, and
every moment of brotherhood is an act of defiance against a system that was never built for us.
We are more than the roles they have tried to confine us to. We are creators, leaders, and revolutionaries shaping a new legacy, one where our truth, our brilliance, and our unity are undeniable.
Gatherings like the Miles Hall Youth Summit are vital because they remind us that while we cannot erase the past, we can choose not to let it define our future. The summit embodies hope and collective healing, underscoring the belief that when we come together as a united community, we become the architects of a future where every Black boy and man is valued, seen, and empowered. Our shared purpose transforms pain into power, setting the stage for a world where potential is nurtured and every life is cherished.
