USArmyParatrooper |
03-13-2013 06:06 PM |
BTW, here's a little bit about the character Alex Smith will be bringing to your locker room.
Quote:
Alex Smith gave his all - off the field, too
Eric Branch
There is Marquis Blount, who grew up fatherless with a drug-addled mother.
And Sade Burrell, who went to elementary school dotted with bruises from beatings her mother delivered with a broomstick.
And Cece Hollis, who, at 16, called social services to escape from a mother who neglected and abused her and a younger sister.
And there are 20 other young men and women whose childhoods were ravaged by pain and abandonment. Former foster teens, they're now college graduates thanks to Alex Smith and his foundation.
On Tuesday, Smith's eight-year career with the 49ers officially ended when his trade to the Kansas City Chiefs was approved on the opening day of free agency in the NFL.
For most of his tenure, he was the Bay Area's most polarizing athlete, a No. 1 overall draft pick who inspired endless debate about his ability. At the end, though, the conversation turned from his quarterbacking to his character.
In 2012, his mentoring of Colin Kaepernick, the phenom who stole his job in the midst of Smith's long-awaited turnaround, inspired universal admiration. Before last month's Super Bowl, Jim Harbaugh said his backup "coaches Colin now more than I do, and that speaks of the type of person and teammate Alex Smith is."
Alex Smith Foundation
It was a final example of Smith's decency, a quality on display through the years as he endured injuries, criticism and subpar performances without a classless word in response.
In the final analysis, Smith's character will be a huge part of his legacy with the 49ers. Particularly when considering the work he's quietly done through the Alex Smith Foundation.
In 2007, two years after its inception, the foundation established the Alex Smith Guardian Scholars Program at San Diego State University. In the past six years, 23 of the 30 foster teens who received scholarships have graduated thanks, in part, to the staggering support they've received: up to five years' tuition, year-round housing, books, mentors, career guidance, health services and living expenses.
The foundation has been funded in large part with Smith's money. He's also devoted his time - to support teens, who, until recently, were emancipated from the foster system at age 18.
No money. No support system. Good luck.
Smith became aware of their plight just days after he was drafted in 2005. His mother, Pam, who works in social services, took him to visit San Pasqual Academy, a residential school for foster teens outside San Diego. The trip had an unspoken purpose: She wanted her son to have an impact beyond football.
The visit was life-altering for Smith, then 20, who was months away from signing a six-year, $49 million contract. Many of the students, who were close to his age, were months away from aging out of the foster system.
The contrast stirred something in Smith, who grew up comfortably in suburban San Diego with doting parents and three loving siblings. His father, Doug, now retired, was the principal at his high school. His mother runs a program for the elderly for San Diego County's Health and Human Services agency. His parents have attended every regular-season game he's started in the NFL.
On that trip to San Pasqual, the seeds were sown: Smith would commit to provide similar love and support for those spit out of the foster system at 18.
Substance over style
His pledge has informed some of the choices he's made since entering the NFL. In a players' lot filled with luxury cars, Smith parked his Chevy Tahoe this past season.
Pam Smith declined to disclose just how much money her son has contributed to the foundation, but said, "If you want to compare the amount of money he's put into anything flashy versus what he's put into getting these foster kids through school, I couldn't even tell you.
"I guess, first of all, I'm not sure that's ever bought anything flashy."
Smith began the SDSU scholarship program with $500,000. He has since poured in more money and time. To lobby for changes to the child-welfare system, he has traveled to Washington, D.C., testified before a state Senate panel in Sacramento and co-written editorials. He's spoken at national conferences in Tampa, Fla., and Kansas City to share the blueprint of his foundation, which has counted his sister, Abbey, and his mother as its unpaid executive directors.
In 2010, he returned to Kansas City and spent a weekend with foster youth and community leaders. Smith's involvement is a reason Kansas City's Cornerstones of Care, an organization that works with foster children, has partnered with a church to create a similar scholarship program. The partnership has allowed 12 disadvantaged teens to attend college.
Denise Cross, the president and CEO of Cornerstones of Care, is a lifelong Chiefs fan who is eager to welcome Smith back to a city where he's already made an impact.
"To see his personal interaction with youths, you could feel his commitment to helping really vulnerable young people be successful," Cross said. "He struck me as a very genuine and committed young man. He's committed to his sport, but also in having a broader impact on society."
Smith has worked closely with the students supported by his foundation, hosting events ranging from bowling to barbecues. He's also met with the students at the end of each semester, in person or via video conference, to assess their progress.
Like an older brother
"That blew me away," said former foster child Blount, who graduated from SDSU with a computer engineering degree. "It was amazing to see when he had time off that he was a part of the program. He was like an older brother, making sure we were doing OK."
Burrell, who ran track, was shocked when she met Smith shortly after receiving a scholarship. The NFL quarterback had clearly pored over her application: He knew more about her athletic exploits than she knew about his.
"I first met him and I was thinking 'This man is a millionaire?' " Burrell said. "He's completely down to earth. What means the most, to me, is that he's willing to learn about what other people have been through."
Last month, the Boston Globe held up Smith's foundation as a model in a story that detailed how many athletes' foundations fail to fund their missions adequately.
Nonprofit specialists say a charitable foundation should funnel a minimum of 65 to 75 percent of proceeds to its cause. Of the 50 foundations the Globe examined, nearly half fell short of that standard. Meanwhile, Smith's foundation spent 91 percent of its funds on its mission from 2008 to 2010, the time period from which the Globe examined IRS filings. A primary reason is because Smith has provided much of the funding.
The numbers come as no surprise to Frank Mecca, executive director of the County Welfare Directors Association of California. Mecca, who has lobbied for child-welfare agencies for more than 20 years, has hosted Smith on two trips to Sacramento. He met Smith in 2005, in the middle of his rookie season, at a conference in Monterey.
Lobbying in Sacramento
Mecca notes that Smith's passionate lobbying brought unprecedented publicity to the plight of foster teens in the state. In 2010, Assembly Bill 12 was passed, extending assistance for children in foster care from age 18 to 21.
"You could tell it instantly resonated with him at an emotional level how completely unfair the system was to foster youth and how critically important it was for policymakers and others, like foundations, to do more to support the transition," Mecca said. "And he felt it at his gut. There are a lot of jocks that have a foundation and a golf tournament. And that's not Alex."
On the field, Smith's story - unlike that of his foundation - hasn't always been a success.
For Pam Smith, the nadir was the 2010 game against the Philadelphia Eagles when the crowd at Candlestick Park viciously booed her son and head coach Mike Singletary ripped into him on the sideline.
Still, she said those harrowing valleys made his turnaround, highlighted by last year's last-second playoff win over New Orleans, even sweeter.
Pain - and gain
In some ways, Smith's career trajectory has mirrored the lives of the foster teens he's helped: Many are now young adults whose painful pasts have given way to bright futures.
Blount, who was taken from his mother as a sophomore in high school, is a software engineer. Burrell, who bounced between foster care and juvenile hall throughout childhood, is a case manager with plans to earn a master's degree in social work. Hollis, whose family was torn apart after her parents' separation, works in recruiting for a health care company.
This, ultimately, was Pam Smith's dream for her instant-millionaire, 20-year-old son in the days after he was drafted. In his eight years with the 49ers, he made a difference. He became a good quarterback. And a better man.
"We're all very proud of him because, in the end, that's the most important thing, isn't it?" Pam Smith said. "He can walk away feeling good about who he is and what he did."
Eric Branch is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer.
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