Ghetto Cowboy

by G. Neri Narrated by J.D. Jackson

Overview

Suddenly, something big and white bumps up against the car, and I jump. I think I must be dreamin', 'cause I just saw a horse run by.

When Cole's mom dumps him in the mean streets of Philly to live with the dad he's never met, the last thing he expects to see is a horse-let alone a stable full of them. He may not know much about cowboys, but what he knows for sure is that cowboys ain't black, and they don't live in the 'hood. But here, horses are a way of life, and soon Cole's days of skipping school and getting in trouble in Detroit have been replaced by shoveling muck and trying not to get stomped on.

At first, all Cole can think about is how to ditch these ghetto cowboys and get home, but when the City threatens to shut down the stables-and take away the horse that Cole has come to think of as his own-he knows it's time to step up and fight back.

Inspired by the real-life inner-city horsemen of Philadelphia and Brooklyn, Ghetto Cowboy is a timeless urban western about learning to stand up for what's right-the Cowboy Way.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

Once again, G. Neri has done what he does best: taken a real-life scenario and turned it into compelling fiction. Cole's authentic voice will resonate with readers—it grabbed me right from the start and wouldn’t let me go. An outstanding book! – Coe Booth, author of the Los Angeles Times Book Prize Winner Tyrell

The unique subject matter alone makes this a book worth picking up. Cole’s heartwarming, heartrending voice, his struggle, and his triumph, make this a book worth reading to the end.–Sundee T. Frazier, author of the Coretta Scott King / John Steptoe New Talent Award Winner Brendan Buckley's Universe and Everything in It

Ghetto Cowboy is an exceptional and deeply moving story about a father and son finding their way to each other and a community daring to fight for what they believe in. G. Neri has created a story that ropes us in and saddles us up for a heartwarming ride. – Hope Anita Smith, author of the Coretta Scott King Honor Winner Keeping the Night Watch  

This well-written book is based on a true story of urban cowboys in Philadelphia and New York. Cole's spot-on emotional insight is conveyed through believable dialogue and the well-paced plot offers information about a little-known aspect of African-American history as well as a portrait of contemporary urban stable life. Watson's illustrations punctuate the intriguing aspects of the story and make the novel more appealing.
—School Library Journal

A fascinating glimpse of a culture most readers will not have heard of.
—Kirkus Reviews

Neri's story is original in theme and inspirational in tone and content.
—Booklist

Coltrane's narration is written in easy-reading colloquial language, making the book a likely sell to reluctant readers and possibility for older readalouds.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

There’s an honesty to the book and to the changes Cole experiences. And while the story itself may contain a happy ending for both boy and horse, that doesn’t mean it’s an easy ending for either of them...Definitely recommended for everyone.
—A Fuse 8 Production (SLJ blog)

A heartwarming story about inner-city kids who bond with a band of forgotten race horses. . . . The great morality lesson here is not the only beauty of the story. The rhythm of the writing, the smells and sounds of the neighborhood, the developing relationship between a boy and his estranged father add up to an appealing novel, especially for an under-written-for segment of young male readers.
—The Christian Science Monitor

School Library Journal - Audio

Gr 5–8—Cole has lived in Detroit with his mother for as long as he can remember. His father has never been part of their life. So, when Cole's mother, unable to handle parenting an adolescent boy alone, drops him off in front of his father's Philadelphia home, Cole is beyond surprised. And then the horse appears. Cole's father is an urban cowboy, part of a small group that cares for retired racehorses in the city's abandoned inner-city lots. Just as Cole begins to get comfortable with his new life—living with his dad, mucking out stables, learning to ride—the city threatens to take away everything he has come to love. Desperate to save the stables and his horse, Cole has to step up and become the responsible young man his father knows he can be. G. Neri's compelling tale (Candlewick, 2011), complemented by JD Jackson's smooth narration, will resonate with many urban kids. The story's drama is based on real life events, a fact that will intrigue listeners. An excellent choice for school and public libraries.—Beth Gallego, Los Angeles Public Library, CA

NOVEMBER 2011 - AudioFile

When Colt's mom can no longer handle him, she sends him to his dad in Philadelphia. Harp, an urban horse trainer, is challenged by his son, who wants nothing to do with him. Narrator JD Jackson splendidly captures the street-talking Colt; Jamaica Bob, the cowboy with dreads and a melodious voice; and the entire rich and colorful cast. Jackson dramatizes the emotional changes that occur as Colt and his parents spend time together. When Colt sees the city kids care for the horses, he realizes some things are worth working for. This inspiring story is based on actual urban cowboys and illustrates unique alternatives to bad choices. Young listeners, especially boys, will love this. S.G.B. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2011, Portland, Maine

Product Details

BN ID:	2940172379277
Publisher:	Brilliance Audio
Publication date:	08/09/2011
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	10 - 13 Years

Read an Excerpt

ONE
 
We drivin’ into the sunset, the car burning up from the heat. I don’t know if it’s comin’ from outside or from Mama, who’s burning up angry at me. She ain’t said nothin’ to me since we left the principal’s office ’bout a hour ago. But she got her foot pressed on the gas like we in a race, zoomin’ past everyone on the expressway.
“I can’t do this no more, Cole.”
“Do what?” I say.
But I know. I only seen her this angry once before, and this is worse. 
“Where we going?” I ask.
She don’t answer. By the time we hit the interstate outta Detroit, I can see she crying. I hate when she do that. It makes me feel bad inside, ’cause I’m always the one who makes her feel that way.
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
She wipes her eyes on her sleeve.
“Me too, baby. Me too,” she says, all sad.
I see the city slowly disappearing, turning into suburbs. I know she gotta work early in the morning, so we can’t be driving that far. I ask her again.
“Where we going?”
Cars is falling behind us ’cause she speedin’ up.
“Mama—”
She chokes it out: “Philadelphia.”
I laugh, then see she ain’t joking.
“What?!” I stare at her hard.
Her hands is shaking, so she grab the steering wheel tighter.
“Philly?” I say, my head spinning. “What for?”
She pulls on her hair and grunts. “I can’t be your mama right now. You need a man in your life.”
I try to let that sink in, but my ears is on fire. “What you talking about? Who’s in Philly?”
She sighs.
“Your daddy.”
My daddy.
Who I never met.
Who Mama never talks about.
Once I asked if she had a picture of him, and she said she burned ’em all. When I kept on her, all she said was he didn’t care about us and now he gone and good riddance.
She never said nothing more.
Now I find out we gonna go see him?
“Why?”
She just holds up her hand like she can’t even go there, like the idea that she gonna take me to him is the last thing she’d ever do.
But she doing it. And then it hits me: “You wanna get rid of me.”
That gets her. I can see her holding that steering wheel so tight her knuckles is turning white. “I can’t do this no more,” she says to no one. “After twelve years, I got nothing left.”
That’s crazy talk. She can’t leave me. “But you my mama! You supposed to watch out for me!”
She bites her lip, her eyes locked on some faraway place. “I used to think your daddy was a bad father . . . that he didn’t know how to take care of us. But now I’m thinking there’s something wrong with me ’cause I don’t know why you are the way you are,” 4 she say. “Maybe he’s the only one left who can turn you around.”
She startin’ to scare me now, talkin’ like that. “I ain’t so bad, Mama. I can do better.”
She nod, fightin’ for words. “I know you can, baby. You just need someone that can show you the way. But that ain’t me no more, Cole.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearin’. “So you gonna leave me with some dude who never cared about us? Some guy who treated you so bad, you never talk about him?”
She stares ahead, her eyes wet. She ain’t disagreeing. “He’s different is all. But maybe different is what you need.”
And with that, she just shuts down.
I seen that look before. It means she made up her mind. I think about grabbing that steering wheel and turning the car around, but she like a rock and, deep down, I know I gone too far this time.
 
 
 
TWO
 
I stare out the window. Even though it’s getting dark out, I can see we in the middle a nowhere. No lights from no city.
Nothing. It looks just like I feel, all empty inside.
I don’t know why I stopped going to school. I guess I didn’t wanna waste no more time with teachers and homework and all a that, ’cause what difference do it make in the end? I’ll never do nothing great in my life. Do they really think I’m gonna be like Obama? Not a chance. I just feel sorry for Mama for thinking that I could be somebody.
She just found out yesterday that I missed the last four weeks of school. That I been hiding them letters and erasing the messages from the vice principal, even duckin’ the truancy officer when he comes by. With her working so much, that wasn’t so hard to do ’cause I done it before and knew all the tricks. But it was the first time I got caught, on account of the truancy officer finding me tagging the back of the school cafeteria while school was going on. Stupid.
She really lost it when she found out they was gonna suspend me for the rest of the year. If I wasn’t twelve, they woulda kicked me out for good, but now they talking about holding me back.
I ain’t never seen her so sad before, like she thought it was all her fault. It made me feel like dirt seeing her sittin’ on the kitchen floor crying, but I knew there was nothin’ I could do to help her, ’cept to let her get it all out. That’s how we deal.
Today, Mama had to skip work to come in to talk to the principal. He went on and on about how I was in danger—rattling off a buncha numbers like how four outta every ten black boys drop outta school, and seven outta ten can’t get no job and ’cause a that, six of us will end up in prison. I could see Mama sinking into herself, like he was saying it was all her fault for not being a good mama.
In the old days, seemed she had the energy to read to me and stuff, and we made drawings together or laid under the covers, talking about where we would go if we could live anywhere else but Detroit. . . .
But that was when I was a kid. Them days is gone. Kids can be happy ’cause they don’t know better, but when you get older, well, you just know it’s all a big lie. Last three years, Mama’s been so moody, like a cloud passed in front of her face. Sometime she look at me and it’s like she don’t see me. I been on my own a lot ’cause a that and ’cause she gotta work so much. I been roaming the streets, skippin’ school and hanging with my friends, staying out late, which she don’t like. We ain’t been doing nothing bad . . . but we ain’t exactly been doin’ nothing good neither.
It was weird hearing the principal say things about me like I wasn’t there, even though I was. He told Mama that since there was a couple weeks left of school, he was gonna suspend me till the summer session started. He said that going to summer school was the only way I could get outta repeating the seventh grade, and not only did I have to show up, but I had to pass the end-of-year exam too. Then he said I needed to seriously think about my life so I could get my priorities straight. Otherwise, things was gonna get much worse for me, and I would end up like one of them boys he was talkin’ about.
Looking at Mama’s face, I could tell she already thought it was too late.

Videos