The iCAN Everything mentality was instilled in me in 1984 by my grandfather. My grandpa was an interesting, inspiring, and tough loving WW2 dog face soldier. He’s one of the few that stormed the beaches of Normandy, lived to shake general Patton’s hands in peacetime, and lived to talk about it.
On a hunting trip that year with my grandpa that year, my gun jammed. Embarrassed and defeated, I whimpered the words “I can’t,” as I scrambled to fix the issue. I feared judgment from him for the faulty equipment. Instead, it came at my stating my disbelief in myself.
You’d have thought I praised Satan. He grabbed me firmly as if I had just run into traffic and he needed to sacrifice himself to save my life. He pulled me close. In this moment there was only him and I. Nothing else existed. He looked me in my eyes, and he said, “don’t ever let me hear you say those words again boy.” The last four letters of the country he had nearly given his life for were and are iCAN. He made sure that I understood, in his presence, out of his presence and for the rest of my life, iCAN. Not only can I, but I better because he did and that’s what it meant to be a Sparkman.
I was 14 then. Despite the challenges that adolescence can bring, and as much as I felt victim to circumstance and my own faulty subconscious programming, those words, in the way he delivered them to me, always seemed to pull me from the grips of the worst life had to offer. I often felt like I was letting him down through. iCAN was engrained in me, but more often than not, I just felt like I can’t. Why can’t I get it right seemed to be more fitting at times. I had a real problem loving myself for the mistakes I was making, which, unbeknownst to me, were the very lessons I needed to grow into the man and father I am today.
This love/hate relationship with myself raged on through the first year of the birth of my first son, Jesse Tate Sparkman. I loved him unconditionally, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find a way to trust or love myself as a father. That is, until May 10, 1995, when my wife and I found out that Jesse had cerebral palsy and that there was no cure. Like the hands of God reached from the sky to shake new life into me, the words of my grandfather rang in my head like the gospel itself. I knew my mission in life. To raise this boy with the fortitude my grandfather had instilled in me. I would raise him to know that despite any seeming disadvantage or obstacle, he could and would persevere to live a life of his choosing; no worldly doctrine or mandate would imprison his spirit.
Four years later his brother Jacob was born, after two weeks in an incubator was also diagnosed with incurable cerebral palsy but little did, I know now Jesse had a lifelong partner in the instilling of this mantra for Jacob; that partner was Jesse. The iCAN Everything movement was born and solidified.
Through the years we’ve had our share of trials and tribulations. Western medicine doesn’t offer much outside of literal crutches for these boys to walk on. With a system that seemed content with treating the symptoms, rather than finding a cure, we embarked on a journey to find our own modes of healing.
God was already a staple in our family, and I believe it was God that led us to music therapy. Through music, I watched what western medicine told us was impossible become a reality for Jesse and Jacob. Both of these now, young men, are on the cusp of mainstream music careers. Jesse is a devout fitness practitioner. I’ve watched him enter boxing competitions, wrestle four years through high school, he even did a Ted Talk and brought the audience to tears. Basically, anything anyone said he couldn’t do he would.
Jesse is now 29 and has honed his craft as an artist. His growth continues to be exponential. He’s in the process of delivering his first mainstream single and video, possibly with the assistance of some notable industry talent. He’s currently entered in a NPC body building competition. The belief in Jesse is such that a group of filmmakers have committed to shooting a documentary to document it.
We’ve acquired some amazing footage through blood, sweat and tears. I know in my heart of hearts, if we execute this documentary and this music video properly, it will be a worldwide launch for the iCAN movement.
Jesse and Jake have been conditioning themselves through God to be walking billboards for how with, unwavering, relentless faith in the most high, backed with reckless abandon to take action and dive headfirst into adversity, the miracles that God would have be ours can and will be. They will be a living, breathing illustration of how we can make our adversity and obstacles a superpower rather than a crutch. They can and will be the embodiment of the proclamation that through spirit, all things are possible. Where two or more are gathered in his name, God is in the mix. It only takes a little Spark of Relentless Faith to ignite a revival.
Everything Xtreme
On a hunting trip that year with my grandpa that year, my gun jammed. Embarrassed and defeated, I whimpered the words “I can’t,” as I scrambled to fix the issue. I feared judgment from him for the faulty equipment. Instead, it came at my stating my disbelief in myself.
You’d have thought I praised Satan. He grabbed me firmly as if I had just run into traffic and he needed to sacrifice himself to save my life. He pulled me close. In this moment there was only him and I. Nothing else existed. He looked me in my eyes, and he said, “don’t ever let me hear you say those words again boy.” The last four letters of the country he had nearly given his life for were and are iCAN. He made sure that I understood, in his presence, out of his presence and for the rest of my life, iCAN. Not only can I, but I better because he did and that’s what it meant to be a Sparkman.
I was 14 then. Despite the challenges that adolescence can bring, and as much as I felt victim to circumstance and my own faulty subconscious programming, those words, in the way he delivered them to me, always seemed to pull me from the grips of the worst life had to offer. I often felt like I was letting him down through. iCAN was engrained in me, but more often than not, I just felt like I can’t. Why can’t I get it right seemed to be more fitting at times. I had a real problem loving myself for the mistakes I was making, which, unbeknownst to me, were the very lessons I needed to grow into the man and father I am today.
This love/hate relationship with myself raged on through the first year of the birth of my first son, Jesse Tate Sparkman. I loved him unconditionally, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find a way to trust or love myself as a father. That is, until May 10, 1995, when my wife and I found out that Jesse had cerebral palsy and that there was no cure. Like the hands of God reached from the sky to shake new life into me, the words of my grandfather rang in my head like the gospel itself. I knew my mission in life. To raise this boy with the fortitude my grandfather had instilled in me. I would raise him to know that despite any seeming disadvantage or obstacle, he could and would persevere to live a life of his choosing; no worldly doctrine or mandate would imprison his spirit.
Four years later his brother Jacob was born, after two weeks in an incubator was also diagnosed with incurable cerebral palsy but little did, I know now Jesse had a lifelong partner in the instilling of this mantra for Jacob; that partner was Jesse. The iCAN Everything movement was born and solidified.
Through the years we’ve had our share of trials and tribulations. Western medicine doesn’t offer much outside of literal crutches for these boys to walk on. With a system that seemed content with treating the symptoms, rather than finding a cure, we embarked on a journey to find our own modes of healing.
God was already a staple in our family, and I believe it was God that led us to music therapy. Through music, I watched what western medicine told us was impossible become a reality for Jesse and Jacob. Both of these now, young men, are on the cusp of mainstream music careers. Jesse is a devout fitness practitioner. I’ve watched him enter boxing competitions, wrestle four years through high school, he even did a Ted Talk and brought the audience to tears. Basically, anything anyone said he couldn’t do he would.
Jesse is now 29 and has honed his craft as an artist. His growth continues to be exponential. He’s in the process of delivering his first mainstream single and video, possibly with the assistance of some notable industry talent. He’s currently entered in a NPC body building competition. The belief in Jesse is such that a group of filmmakers have committed to shooting a documentary to document it.
We’ve acquired some amazing footage through blood, sweat and tears. I know in my heart of hearts, if we execute this documentary and this music video properly, it will be a worldwide launch for the iCAN movement.
Jesse and Jake have been conditioning themselves through God to be walking billboards for how with, unwavering, relentless faith in the most high, backed with reckless abandon to take action and dive headfirst into adversity, the miracles that God would have be ours can and will be. They will be a living, breathing illustration of how we can make our adversity and obstacles a superpower rather than a crutch. They can and will be the embodiment of the proclamation that through spirit, all things are possible. Where two or more are gathered in his name, God is in the mix. It only takes a little Spark of Relentless Faith to ignite a revival.
Everything Xtreme
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