I saw it with my own eyes—Brownni, son of a Jamaican mother and Irish-American father, spun through defenders like smoke in the third quarter, dropping a high-arcing floater that silenced the arena. Half-court. Four for four. Twelve points. This wasn’t just a highlight—it was a declaration. Growing up in Brooklyn taught me that sport isn’t about stats; it’s about soul. When the system tries to break you, you rise—not because you’re drafted, but because you refuse to stay silent. This is youth赋权 in its purest form.