"I know my peers don't deal with what I have to think about. There are strict codes, but they enable me to be strong in whatever environment I'm in, so I want to respect those things," Ashong says.

These codes require him to govern his behavior and control his actions. He doesn't drink, really, except once with the "Amistad" cast in Newport and once on his twenty-first birthday.

When he pierced his ears last year, gold hoops through small black lobes, his mother cried. Members of the royal family do not mutilate their bodies.

Despite the rigors of these domestic codes, his family is stalwart in their tolerance of other cultures and lifestyles; his father is quick to emphasize that the family has no problem with those who do pierce their ears or whose culture demands they do so. Ashong has the same tendency. When he discusses his deeply held Christian beliefs, he immediately jumps to his respect for Islam. He rarely speaks categorically, except about himself.

This embrace of difference stems from the Ashongs' religious and social commitment to the sanctity of the human being, says Dr. Ashong. "At the end of the day, we find that humanity is one big family, with different characteristics, yes, but the core of the human is the same."

As a result, Ashong is quick to accept others and quick to forgive. And he's forever working on his relationships, pondering how to understand other people better. He's also consistently working on himself. It's a constant battle to live up to his own expectations of manhood.

"It's a passion, a fire...tempered by responsibility. But it's not exclusively a male thing. I want my daughters to have the qualities of strength and pride and kindness," he says. "If they do not, future generations suffer for it," he says.

When he is discussing dignity and honor, he is perfectly still. The words come rushed and easy, as if he thinks of this a lot, but he doesn't talk about it much. It's a radical departure from the language of the kid who "basically talks yang and makes a lot of jokes" when he hangs out.

"I feel like God has a plan for me. I'm here for a reason, and I'm going to do things. I've never felt otherwise," he says.

His convictions can be tough for others. "He's got a path he's chosen and nothing's going to get in the way of that, but sometimes it leaves people behind," says Ford.

Still, Ashong focuses on the world floating ahead of him and has confidence that someday, he will come closer to achieving his celestial standard of manhood.

"I told my parents my senior year in high school that I was going to be incredible, phenomenal. I'm going to be special to you. It's not big headed. It will just happen," he says.

"Ceteris parabis, that's the plan"

The way Ashong's life has unfolded so far, it seems like it just might. Unexpectedly, of course, haphazardly, and at the last minute, in true Ashong style. Getting the role in "Amistad" seemed less destiny than accident, a series of circumstances that collapsed into place.

He never would have known of the opportunity if he hadn't received an e-mail notifying members of collegiate African student associations that Spielberg was seeking young West African males for a film on the 1839 mutiny and subsequent capture of a slave ship, La Amistad.