A Man from Another Land: How Finding My Roots Changed My Life (30 page)

After receiving a series of very nasty e-mails and threats from Raymond, including banning Sonya from the village, demanding
that I fire her, and labeling her a “white she devil” (which I thought was ironic since my good brother Raymond had been
married to a white woman for over twenty years), I had had enough. I figured that it was time for me to show my power—my American
power. I needed to remind Raymond, quickly and decisively, that I did not
live
in Sierra Leone and was one of the few African Americans willing to engage this war-torn nation in a respectful and serious
way. I needed to let him and
others
know that I fully intended on asphyxiating any form of corruption from the ground up, one village at a time. Once he saw
that I was not going to fire Sonya and side with him, my dear brother Raymond declared war!

That was exactly what I didn’t need, more media liability.

As the president of TGMF, Sonya sought Bradford’s advice to find a way, without actually filing a lawsuit, to stop Raymond
from launching his verbal assaults. The press would have a field day with anything even closely resembling legal action against
Isaiah Washington’s foundation.

Sonya characterized Raymond’s e-mail attacks as similar to “a child throwing a tantrum in the grocery store,” embarrassing,
yes, but she could handle them. Her concern, our concern, for TGMF was making sure our professional contacts didn’t get caught
up in the drama. We wanted them to continue to have faith that the foundation was legitimate and well run with regard to all
business matters.

Bradford advised that as she was the president of TGMF, any attacks against Sonya almost bound her to protect her image, thereby
protecting that of our organization. He recommended employing some kind of legal remedy to protect both TGMF and her. He also
pointed out that any terroristic threats from Raymond should be taken very seriously. In our current day and age, they were,
in fact, illegal.

Bradford advised Sonya to have all letters and e-mail traffic reviewed by our lawyers. I had noticed Sonya’s attitude toward
the “natives” and had mentioned it to her more than once. It
came out sometimes in her tone when she spoke to the Sierra Leonean people. A bit of a control freak, Sonya would get frustrated
with the language barrier and doing things in “Africa time.” I took full responsibility for the cultural fallout. I was certain
that Sonya’s heart was in the right place. Unfortunately for me, I was stuck between two allegiances and I had no time to
make everything right for Raymond. If I had to sacrifice my relationship with him in the short term, then so be it. I knew
that in the long run, as long as I continued my work in Sierra Leone, Raymond Scott-Manga was going to be my brother for life.
In my heart of hearts I knew that his tactics were just over-the-top posturing. But I also knew that I could not allow him
to hurt himself, or what he and I had planned to do for Sierra Leone. I don’t know who took the money. I only know it was
missing. This illustrates how difficult it can be sometimes to give aid in Sierra Leone. It was a difficult time. Thank God
Raymond and I would later make amends. However, in that moment, Sonya was the president of TGMF and TGMF was me. I had to
protect her and myself immediately.

So, we proceeded with legal action as advised and a cease and desist order was issued to my brother Raymond Scott-Manga. I
quickly found out that being a true leader and a Mende chief was not for the faint of heart.

My life
evolved
on June 7, 2007, four days after I returned from Sierra Leone to Los Angeles. I got a call from Shonda telling me to call
my publicist, agent, and attorney.

“Isaiah,” she said, “I have been fighting for you for the last three hours and I can’t stop it. It’s been released to the
Associated Press. You’re not coming back to the show.”

“Shonda, you’ve got to be kidding me! After all we’ve been through? After all that I’ve done to make it right? Okay, FINE.
You know I have to clear my name now. You know I’m going to fight to clear my name!”

I heard Shonda sigh as if I had just kicked her in the stomach. She knew that this wasn’t going to go away anytime soon for
her either. I hung up and called Howard Bragman, my new publicist. I said, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”
Unfortunately, Howard used my comment to
him
as my response statement to the Associated Press. It backfired tremendously. No one got that it was a reference to the movie
Network
. I was now viewed as the angriest black man on the planet!

It seemed that there were issues coming at me from all four corners of the earth—someone or something constantly wanted or
needed my full attention. I knew that for every action there is a reaction; and everything that was happening to me was happening
because of
my
actions, but it is important to note that I was not “fired on the spot,” as it has been reported. My contract was not renewed
after I returned to the show
eight months
after the incident with Patrick Dempsey, where he admits to provoking me vehemently in front of thirty-five fellow employees.
You should also know that on June 7, 2007, when I received the news that I would not be returning to my TV show, I was working
on the independent film
The Least of These
and shooting a scene where my character overhears a private conversation among his superiors on how he was going to be allowed
to take the fall for something he did not do and be thrown to the wolves within the press
.
Some people might say ironic, or another story hard to believe. It was yet another of the many defining moments that have
guided and prepared me for the huge transitions and changes that have characterized my life. Personal growth and change are
never easy. To
evolve
is the key to life. I no longer subscribe to the revolutionary concept of living life. Historically, I realized that all
“revolutionaries” died violently or were co-opted by subversive tactics.

*     *     *

In all of the turmoil that resulted from leaving my TV show, I found an invaluable gift. I had already cleared out my trailer
and successfully completed all the episodes and contractual obligations by the end of the season in May 2007. I realized that
my resistance in life was never against authority, my stepfather, father figures like Harry Poe, coaches, COs in the air force,
as I had once thought.
My resistance was always against ignorance and fear
. I now knew that I was born to confront any construct that prevents change. To
evolve
is necessary for all progression and for the survival of all living things. If I survived, I lived, and if I lived I had
to evolve. To evolve made me a part of an
evolutionary process
. To participate in the
evolutionary process,
to proactively and positively participate in life as a global citizen, to discover and know where my origins are on that
great African continent have made me an
evolutionary.
People often ask me how I feel about what happened, to tell them what my thinking is about it all today. To be honest, it
is still evolving just as I am. Perhaps as I grow and change I will be able to describe it in my next book. For now, I have
written all I want to say about it. I am still learning more every day about the responsibilities of my newfound identity
and hope that all the parties involved during the debacle surrounding my former TV show have evolved and found peace with
the past as I have.

I
t was eight weeks later when I received a delightful call from Sonya. I was in Vancouver working on my new TV show, NBC’s
Bionic Woman.
Sonya told me that the IRS and Department of the Treasury had sent the Gondobay Manga Foundation its tax exemption identification
number.

The letter was dated August 6, 2007, just three days after my forty-fourth birthday. It was official. TGMF was now a bona
fide nonprofit organization. I congratulated Sonya for her hard work. I hung up and called my pro bono accountant Steve Churchwell
of DLA Piper, Rudnick, Gray, Cary, LLP, and thanked him for all of his efforts to push the TGMF application through.

I hung up the phone, walked to my hotel window, and exclaimed, “The devil is beating his wife!” I gazed out, and, once again,
with all the rain pouring down in my life, the sun was figuratively still shining through. This was a victory.

Another symbol of the sun shining through entered my life in the form of Maria Elena Lamas. Maria was a huge supporter
of my work and me on my former TV show and a member of an online fan site called
bangsanatomy.com
. Maria had learned about my work in Sierra Leone and decided that she wanted to become involved with TGMF. She had a bright
and shining smile, complemented by her equally bright and shining spirit. She spoke very fast and had an enthusiasm and a
sense of urgency about helping people and getting things done that matched my own. I knew that she was a godsend, a Cuban
angel, when I first met her, I just didn’t know to what extent. Maria Elena Lamas would soon become
the
driving force behind TGMF.

On September 17, 2007, Dr. Ernest Bai Koroma was successfully democratically elected as the new president of the Republic
of Sierra Leone. Howard Bragman, my new publicist, called me from his LA office to say that CNN and the BBC wanted a comment
from me regarding the election. I declined. I was concerned that the media would somehow use me to turn this wonderful event
in Sierra Leone into a negative.

The attacks from the media had amped up with my presence on
Bionic Woman.
In fact, there was a full-scale war of words in the media between my new boss, Ben Silverman at NBC, and my old boss, Steve
McPherson at ABC.

I thought back to the conversation I had had with Moza Cooper when she called to tell me I was the perfect person to receive
the Canada Lee Award. When Canada Lee was blacklisted in Hollywood and became the subject of the era’s yellow journalism,
it destroyed his reputation forever. Lee died penniless at forty-five years old. I thought to myself, “Oh my God, I’m forty-four!”

While I was pumping gas into my SUV one day, someone screamed out of their passing car, “Hey, Isaiah, you’re in the news more
than President Bush!” I placed the nozzle back in its resting place, climbed back into my vehicle, and noticed that I had
a missed call on my cell. It was from Pamela G. Alexander from Ford Motor Company. She left a message that she was calling
to invite me to be her special guest at the 37th Annual Congressional Black Caucus Dinner in Washington, DC. I immediately
called her back and accepted the invitation.

I had attended the CBC dinner as the master of ceremonies, along with actress Sheryl Lee Ralph, the previous year. The event
was particularly special because Senator Barack Obama, Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, and Representative Nancy Pelosi were
all there under one roof.

My celebrity was well received there. I was even a little embarrassed at all of the attention I got from fans. But what I
needed was the attention of the African American corporate executives who had either sponsored the CBC Foundation or were
members.

I collected more than twenty-five business cards that night, but, unlike at other previous events, not one of the card owners
wanted to take a photo with me. I knew I was “radioactive” when it came to corporate sponsorship but I still had to try.

As the evening came to a close, I thanked Pamela for her many introductions that evening and returned to Los Angeles knowing
that I was a
marked man.
I personally made follow-up calls to every single one of the corporate executives I’d met at the dinner that night. Not one
of my calls was ever returned.

On October 19, 2007, my new friend Zainab Bangura, whom I had first met in the airport waiting for our flight back to the
United States after my first trip to Sierra Leone in 2006, was sworn in as the Minister of Foreign Affairs. In an article
published by
ipsnews.net
, she was quoted saying, “I am the architect of Sierra Leone’s multilateral and bilateral relations with the international
community and this is a challenge I am prepared to shoulder.”
¹⁸

*     *     *

In November, I traveled to DC again to put all of my positive energy and focus on the preservation of the Slave Castle ruins
on Bunce Island, part of my 365-Day Plan. No matter what was happening in the rest of my life, I had to stay focused on my
work in Sierra Leone. Joe Opala had set up the day of meetings, bringing about twenty-five people together from the United
States, United Kingdom, and Sierra Leone. The summary of the day published on the Web site
bunce-island.org.uk
noted:

By the end of the meeting, it was clear that the urgent priority is to carry out an engineering survey to establish the possibility
and cost of stabilization work, while working with the relevant authorities in Sierra Leone to establish a longer-term plan
for conservation and development of the site. The meeting also led to the development of a strategy for the US and UK to work
together in support of Bunce Island.
¹⁹

That same month the Writers Guild strike started. More than twelve thousand writers hit the picket lines. My deal at NBC was
fulfilled,
Bionic Woman
was canceled, and I was officially unemployed again with no prospects in sight. All of my efforts in Sierra Leone were being
severely threatened as was my ability to support myself and my family. My business manager was in full crisis mode and was
insisting that I shut down TGMF. He begged and pleaded for me to stop funding the organization with my own money. My wife,
Jenisa, stepped up her concerns and began to apply pressure to shut down TGMF as well.

I ignored their pleas and pushed on. I had to finish what I started. I had given my
word.