Saturday, June 24, 2017

Subria and Kevin (After Arisleyda)


Subria
In this excerpt from the novel, I'm exploring how Subria responds when she feels betrayed by Shiloh. There are some things I need to figure out still. I also want to do a lot more showing than telling (showing Subria at a basketball game or tailgate party instead of just saying she went to one).

Subria returned to Sinai without speaking to Shiloh.  He called her house repeatedly before she returned to school, and each time Renee or Steven came to tell her that Shiloh was on the phone, she refused to take his calls. When Subria was back at school, she kept up with her studies, but also threw herself into the social scene at school in a way she hadn't before.  With all the time she had used to call Shiloh and write emails to him, Subria started spending a lot more time with Sonji, Tamina, and April, going to Dairy Queen to get Blizzards, and out to Whataburger for dinner sometimes.  She spent a lot more time at basketball games and tailgate parties.
One night after a dorm party at Corinthian Hall, April, Sonji, and Tamina had already left the dorm, so Subria jogged outside to catch up with them, only to realize that there was no more room in Tamina's car.  This was strange to Subria, since Tamina always gave the three of them rides when she could, and they had come to the party together.  The other people in the car lived in a dorm not even a hundred yards from where they were standing.  Subria's dorm was about a twenty minute walk from Corinthian Hall. 
"Sorry, Bria," Tamina yelled from the driver’s side.  "Maybe Kevin can walk you back to the
Kevin
dorm."  And then it finally hit Subria.  She was being set up.  "Kevin, do you mind?" Tamina asked as Kevin approached the car.
"No.  It would be my pleasure to walk you home," Kevin said, as he winked at Tamina.  Subria smiled nervously, and waved at the girls as they drove away.
"Did you have fun tonight?" Kevin asked her. 
"Yeah, it was nice to get out of the dorm."
"You spend a lot of time in there." 
"Well, I have to, if I want to keep up my GPA."
"Yeah, but all work and no play . . .  Don’t you like to hang out sometimes?"
"Sure, but it’s hard to hang out like I want.  When I was in New York, all I had to do was hop on a bus or train to go to the movies or something.  Now everything is so far away, and I don’t have a car."
"Yeah, but Tamina does."
"We go out with her sometimes, but I don’t want her to feel like she always has to take us around.  Anyway, maybe you hang out a little too much, Kevin," Subria said, grinning.
"What do you mean?" Kevin asked, intrigued.
"I heard about you getting written up.  How many times has that happened?"
"Only about three," Kevin responded with a mischievous look.
"I would be so scared to get written up even once," Subria admitted. 
"They don't really do anything.  All they do is write your name down.  Just like getting your name on the board in elementary school.  Nothing ever happened to me when I got my name on the board."
"Well, I hear that if you get written up a certain amount of times, it can lead to disciplinary probation."
"Well, I'll worry about that if it happens," Kevin responded.  "So, you were talking about Tamina and her car?"
"Oh yeah," Subria remembered.  "You want to know something funny?"
"What?"
"You know the school shopping trips?"
"Yeah?" Kevin responded, recalling that Sinai had bus runs into town twice each week.
"April and I go to the movies instead of shopping at the Northlake Mall.  One time, the bus was waiting outside the theater for us instead of in front of the supermarket like it usually does.  It was so embarrassing, but it was worth it."
"You’re lucky they didn’t leave you," Kevin said, laughing. 
"I know, right?" 
 By the time Kevin and Subria arrived at her dorm, there was still about half an hour left before curfew, so Subria decided to invite him into her common room. 
"So, how’d you end up at Sinai, Kevin?" Subria asked, as she walked over to the snack machine.
"My parents wanted me to come.  I didn’t really want to come down here."
"Where did you want to go?"
"I got offers to a few Ivy League schools.  I even received a few scholarship offers."
"For what?" Subria asked, shaking the snack machine after her chocolate chip cookies didn’t come out when she put her money in.
"Do you need help?" Kevin asked.
"No, I do this all the time," Subria responded, as her cookies fell into the slot, and about $5 in coins fell into the change slot.
"Subria, I’m surprised at you!" Kevin said, feigning shock.  "I never took you for a thief!"
"Be quiet.  I didn’t mean for that money to come out.  I keep calling to ask for them to fix this machine, but no one ever does."
"So why don’t you just stop trying to buy stuff from that machine?"
"Because the cookies are good!  Wait till you see what I do with them," Subria said, opening the cookies, grabbing a couple of paper towels, and putting the cookies in the microwave.  She entered 30 seconds.  "So, you never said what your scholarship offers to the other schools were for."
"Track."
"You too, huh?"
"Why, you run?" Kevin asked. 
"Yep.  I’m a sprinter.  I have been ever since I was eight," Subria responded, taking the cookies out of the microwave.  She touched one of the chocolate chips to see if it was warm enough, and she burned her finger a little.  She grimaced in pain, and put her finger in her mouth.
"Are you okay?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah, I’m fine.  Here, taste this," Subria said, passing Kevin a piece of one of her cookies.  "It’s better with milk, but it’s still good."
Kevin put the cookie in his mouth.  "Umm, that is good.  No wonder you shake the machine," he said smiling.  "So, what events do you run in?"
"The 100 and 200.  I’m better at the 100, though," Subria commented.
"I run the 400 and 800," Kevin shared.  "I do the long jump and triple jump, too."
"Are you going out for the team here?" Subria asked.
"Yeah, I guess.  What about you?"
"My dad would have a heart attack if I didn’t."
"At least your father cares."
"I guess you could look at it that way," Subria said looking at the clock on the wall.  "Well, it looks like it’s time for you to go.  Thanks for walking me home."
"No problem.  I guess I’ll see you at track try-outs tomorrow, huh?"
"Sure.  Have a good night."
"Hey," Kevin said, turning back and peeking through the front door of the dorm, "let me know if you ever need me to take you somewhere.  I have a car, and I really wouldn't mind."
"Wait, so . . ." Subria said, confused.  
"Good night, Subria," Kevin said, smiling as he walked away.
After that night at the dorm party, Kevin, Marcus, Amaru, and Malcolm started to hang out with Subria and her roommates, and inevitably, because there were four guys and four girls, they began to pair off.  Subria told herself that she and Kevin were just friends.  Although Subria was having issues with Shiloh, she didn't consider herself available, but that walk home left a splinter in her mind.  

***  
Shiloh
Subria returned home from college for summer break, and all that time, she still hadn't been in touch with Shiloh.  He called the day after she got home.  She suspected that her mother had informed him that she was there.  Subria decided it was time to iron things out with him. 
"Hey!  How are you?" Shiloh asked.
"I'm okay," Subria responded, rolling her eyes and sighing.  She wasn't going to make this easy for him.
"I've been trying to get in touch with you for months, but you haven't been returning my calls or emails," Shiloh said, almost whining. 
"I know," Subria said.
"I just wanted to know if I could come over so we could talk," Shiloh said.
"Whatever you have to say to me, please just say it," Subria responded. 
"Okay, well, I know you're mad about Arisleyda, but I told you that it wouldn’t be a good weekend for me."
"Shiloh, really? You lied to me!" Subria shouted, realizing that the passage of time hadn't dissipated her anger at all, especially with him starting by making excuses.  "When did that become okay?  I mean, is that a part of your new walk with God?  Being deceitful?" 
"Of course not," Shiloh said, "but I just thought it would be better if I could just handle it without upsetting you."
"Handle what, Shiloh?" Subria asked.
"Well, things didn’t end so well with Arisleyda when I broke up with her, and I wanted to see if I could bring some better closure to the whole thing.  Why did you have to make a big deal out of this?  You haven't spoken to me for three months!"
"I can’t believe you’re trying to flip this on me," Subria said.  "You’re something else, you know that?  Since when did your x-girlfriend’s feelings become more important than mine?  And although you allegedly have this new spirituality thing going on, you still have a lot left to learn, like avoiding the appearance of evil, Shiloh.  What do you think she thought about you letting her stay with you?  What do you think your roommates thought?"
"Subria.  Listen to me –"
"I don’t want to listen to you!  She could have found some place else to stay, Shiloh, and you know that.  Don’t insult my intelligence.  Tell me that nothing happened between the two of you." Subria demanded.
As much as Shiloh wanted to, he couldn’t tell her that.  His silence spoke volumes.
"Please, for the first time today, be completely honest with me," Subria begged.
"Okay, she tried to kiss me, but I pushed her away, Subria!  That has to tell you something!"
"Yes, it does tell me something," Subria responded.  "It tells me that she still has feelings for you, and you either don’t want to see it, or part of you feels like you still owe her something.  Which is it?  I think I have the right to know."
"Subria . . ."
"No, really Shiloh," Subria said, "if you don't see anything wrong with what happened, then I don't know if I want to be your girlfriend anymore."
"Subria, I didn't do anything wrong," Shiloh said.
"Then there's nothing left for us to talk about," Subria said, hanging up the phone.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Arisleyda (Soul Ties)

Subria and Shiloh's relationship, like any great love story, will face adversity. That main challenge will be Shiloh's x-acquaintance, Arisleyda (AH-ris-LAY-dah), the nature of Shiloh's past relationship with her (despite his best intentions), and how he chooses to communicate with Subria about how his past is creeping into his life just as he's trying to do things differently and build a relationship with Subria that does not involve sexual intimacy. 

I previously posted about the guy Kevin who Subria meets at school. Remember how every action has an equal and opposite reaction? Keep that in mind for a post that will follow about Subria and Kevin, because I'd love some feedback about that.

Other important considerations: 
- The transitions are abrupt, but they won't be when I'm finished revising. 
- Shiloh and Subria were just friends when he got involved with Arisleyda. I'm working on determining if they go to the same strict church, are from the same school/neighborhood or both.
- As a church boy, Shiloh is trying to avoid sexual intimacy until he's married, but struggles in his very strict household. He is losing resolve, but doesn't realize it.  
- I need to change this so that Arisleyda and Shiloh go to the same school. Otherwise it won't make sense that she's on his senior trip. I'll change Lewis Hayden Academy to a co-ed school.
- I need to further develop Arisleyda's character.  Right now, she just comes across as a vixen, but people are far more complex. 

Check out these excerpts and feel free to share feedback with me:
January, 1996
The academic expectations at Hayden Academy kept Shiloh at the library almost every day after school.  Thankfully his mom worked there, and was an endless source of information.  Unfortunately, a lot of students in the area seemed to have the same idea on this particular day.  It was hard for Shiloh to find a private space. 
"Excuse me, do I know you?" a young lady asked Shiloh.
"I don’t think so," he responded without making eye contact with her.  He hated to be bothered when he was reading, and he had come to the library specifically so he could have time to finish his reading without interruption.  After about ten seconds, however, he could still feel her eyes on him.  She wasn’t getting the hint.  He didn’t want to be rude, so he finally looked up at her and found that he didn’t mind the interruption after all.
"Don’t you go to my school?" the girl asked.
"That’s not possible," Shiloh said.  "I go to an all boy’s school."
"Oh, my bad," she said, giggling and blushing. 
"I’m Shiloh Joseph," he said, extending his hand and smiling apologetically.
"Arisleyda Colòn," she responded, shaking his hand and returning the smile.  "It’s nice to meet you."
"Same to you," Shiloh said.
"Can I borrow some paper, please?" Arisleyda asked.  "I forgot my notebook at home."
"Sure," he said, tearing out a couple of pages from his notebook along the perforated edge.  He pulled the remaining edges of the paper out through the spiral, scrunched them up, and placed them on top of the table.
"Thanks.  You’re so organized," Arisleyda commented.
"Thanks," Shiloh responded, and started to turn his back to her again to continue reading.
"What are you reading?" Arisleyda asked.
"Two Tickets to Freedom."  He held up the book so she could see the cover.  When he saw the confused look on her face, he continued, "It’s about William and Ellen Craft’s escape from slavery."
"You have to read it for school?" Arisleyda asked.
"No," Shiloh sighed, and smirked, "I’m reading it because I want to." 
Arisleyda blushed.  "Oh."
Lewis Hayden Academy was a college preparatory school, and Shiloh had become accustomed to having mentally stimulating conversations with his classmates.  He was surprised to hear Arisleyda either downplaying her intelligence, or worse, feeling so free to share that she didn’t read for pleasure.  Although she was cute, he wasn’t impressed. 
"You only read what’s assigned in school?" Shiloh asked, trying, unsuccessfully not to sound judgmental.
"No," Arisleyda said, seemingly relieved at the opportunity to clarify what she meant, "Just making conversation," she said, lying.  "Where do you go to school?"
"Lewis Hayden Academy," Shiloh responded.
"Wow," Arisleyda said.  "You’re lucky."
"Well, I don’t believe in luck, but getting into Hayden was definitely a good thing."
"Yeah," Arisleyda responded, caught off guard by his luck comment, but finding herself more and more intrigued by Shiloh. 
"Where do you go?" Shiloh asked.
"A. Philip Randolph High on W. 135th."
"My brother went to that school."
"Really?  That’s cool."
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Arisleyda.  I really have to get back to my reading."
"It was nice to meet you, too.  Do you think maybe I could call you sometime?"
"Sure," Shiloh responded, smiling.
Shiloh put his book in his bag, and opened to a fresh page in his history notebook.  He tore out a new sheet of paper from the back of his notebook and wrote down his phone number for her.
 ***
Shiloh had been really looking forward to the senior trip to Washington, DC.  Not only was he looking forward to visiting the Smithsonian to help with his research on the role of the quilt during the time of the Underground Railroad, but his parents had been giving him so much stress about dating Arisleyda that he couldn’t wait to spend some time with her without their prying eyes. 
"What was your favorite exhibit?" Arisleyda asked Shiloh.
"L’Merchie Frazier’s quilt about Martin Luther King, hands down," Shiloh responded (side note: I know and adore L'Merchie Frazier 😍. She was one of the facilitators of a week-long institute I participated in for two summers about Blacks in Boston and the Abolitionist Movement as a joint effort between Boston Public Schools, The Museum of African American History and Suffolk University).
Arisleyda took out the pamphlet they had been given at the Smithsonian, and looked up the name.  "Oh, it’s called From a Birmingham Jail: MLK."  That one was impressive."
After dinner, Shiloh walked Arisleyda back to her room.  Shiloh leaned in to kiss her on her cheek.  Arisleyda turned her head slightly, and kissed him on the mouth.  Shiloh was surprised, and thought to pull away at first, but he was unsuccessful.  Her perfume wafted into his nose as they continued to kiss, keeping him there.  "You wanna come in?" Arisleyda asked.
"Leydi, you know I can’t do that," Shiloh said, weakly.
"Come on Shiloh.  I was supposed to room with Jemilexi, but she got sick.  No one's in there.  Just come in for a little while.  I promise I won’t bite," Arisleyda said, smiling, grabbing his hand, and pulling him into the room. 
 ***
As much as Shiloh hated his father’s lectures, as Shiloh left Arisleyda's room two hours later, every word that he had spoken to him since he started dating her came crashing down on him like an avalanche.  She knew exactly what she was doing.  He wondered if she was ever supposed to share a room with Jemilexi in the first place.  Shiloh started to feel sick inside.  He took his room key out of his pocket, opened the door and headed straight for the bathroom. 
"Is everything okay, Shy?" Samuel asked, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Everything’s fine," Shiloh lied.
"Are you sure?  Where have you been?"
"Sam, I’m fine.  Just leave me alone . . . please!"
"Aiight, man.  I’m out here if you want to talk about it."
Shiloh looked at himself in the mirror, and he was disgusted with himself.  He sat down on the edge of the tub, put his head in his hands and cried, mourning the loss of his virginity.
"I’m sorry, God.  I’m so sorry."
*** 
The next morning, the students packed up the bus, and they all headed for the International House of Pancakes that was five minutes from the hotel in the direction of the highway.  When Shiloh and Sam were together, they usually sat at the back of the bus, but he intentionally asked Sam to sit in the front.  He didn’t want to risk seeing Arisleyda, and he knew she was already on the bus.  When Shiloh and Sam arrived at the restaurant, they went inside quickly, and sat down together. 
"You ready to talk, man?" Sam asked.
"I don’t know, Sam."
Arisleyda came over to the table.  "Hey, guys." She said, looking directly at Shiloh.  "How’s everything?"
Shiloh wouldn’t make eye contact with her, so Samuel said, "Good morning."
Arisleyda noticed that Shiloh wasn’t looking at her.  "Okay, then.  I’ll see you both later." 
"What’s going on, Shy?" Sam asked, after Arisleyda walked away.
"I messed up, Sam."
"Aw, man, Shy."
"Yeah, I know."




February, 1999
This was the first time in all his life that Shiloh was not looking forward to his birthday.  Everything had been tense in the city ever since the police killed Amadou Diallo.  Most of the young Black men he knew were all on edge.  It was hard not to be when an unarmed Black man could get shot at 41 times because he "fit the description of a rapist."  It seemed like that was always the case (side note: I wrote this scene so long ago, and now to Amadou Diallo's name, we can add Sean Bell, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Walter Scott, Sandra Bland, and far too many others). 
Growing up, Shiloh would always get to stay home on his birthday, but this year, he’d be writing a take home essay that wouldn't be given out until his birthday, and since it would be due the following day, there was no getting around it.  But that wasn't for another couple of weeks.  It was Friday, and at least he’d be able to crash for the rest of the weekend. 
Shiloh had really enjoyed his time with Subria over Christmas break. She was very receptive to moving their relationship more toward courting than what most people called dating.  Neither one of them was completely sure how things would change, besides not kissing anymore.  They wouldn't be back together until the summer, so they figured they'd just keep in touch by phone and email, and figure the rest out when they saw each other again.
Shiloh walked into the common room of his dorm and threw his book bag on the couch.  None of his roommates were home yet, and he was thankful for some alone time.  He sat on the couch and flicked on the television, and the weather forecaster was summing up the forecast.  Rain all weekend.  Great.  He let out a long sigh and went into the kitchen to get some iced tea, and to check for messages.  That’s when he saw it.  The absolute last thing he needed.  Next to the church bulletin from the previous Sunday was a message.  The message was scrawled in his roommate Hasaan’s chicken scratch, but Shiloh had learned to decipher it, though now he wished he couldn’t. 
Arisleyda called.  She wants you to call her.  We’ll talk later. 
His mind raced.  Should he call her back now, later, or not at all?  He had promised himself that he would stop putting things off, because procrastination had ruled his life in the past, and never did him any good.  Arisleyda was persistent, and if he didn’t call her back, she’d keep calling until she got through to him, so the "not at all" option was, in fact, not an option.  Shiloh looked at the message, and didn't recognize the area code, so he figured she had gone to school out of state.  He picked up the phone and dialed the number on the paper.  
Two rings.  She usually picked up the phone by the third ring.  Four rings.  Maybe she’s not home . . .
"Hello?" came the sultry voice from the other end of the line.
"Hey, Arisleyda.  It’s Shiloh."
"Oh, hi Shiloh."  He could almost see her grin over the phone.  Ear to ear. 
"How are you?" Shiloh asked.
"Good.  I’m just getting back from my last class of the day," Arisleyda said.  "I almost missed you.  How are you?"
"Tired.  I had a long week.  I got a message here saying that you called," Shiloh said, attempting to move the conversation along.
"What, no small talk?" Arisleyda flirted.
"I don’t mean to be impolite, but I have a lot to do," Shiloh explained.
"No worries.  I just have a question to ask."
Shiloh’s stomach dropped.  He thought these days were over. 
"What’s up?" Shiloh asked, with his eyes squeezed shut, one hand holding the receiver, the other cradling his forehead.
"Well, I have to come to New York to interview for an internship, and since my family moved, I don’t have anywhere to stay."
This is a test of the Holy Spirit broadcasting system . . .
"You don’t have any family left in the city?" Shiloh inquired.
"Well, I have some people out in Queens, but I wanted to stay in the city.  I don’t want to have to make this long commute on the morning of my interview."
"No friends you can stay with?" Shiloh asked, hoping.
"I thought I was calling a friend," Arisleyda said, sarcastically.
"You know what I mean, Arisleyda.  No female friends?"
"Shy, the interview is in the Village, and you’re right there.  Plus it would be nice to see you again.  I don’t like how we left things."
In the case of an emergency, this system will broadcast to help you make wise choices.
"When is your interview?" Shiloh asked, sighing.  Arisleyda was nonplussed. 
"February 26th."  Of course it had to be the day before his birthday.  How convenient.
"I really think it would be better if you found someplace else to stay," Shiloh said.
Okay, doing well. Doing well . . .
"Shiloh, come on.  Your school has those big dorm rooms," Arisleyda said, almost pleading.  Shiloh wondered how she knew how big the dorm rooms were at his school.  She was so shady.  "I can just sleep on the couch, right?" she continued.  "It’ll just be for like one night.  I’ll come in on Thursday, the interview will be on Friday, and I’ll leave Friday night."
Leaving on his birthday?  Hmm.  That didn't sound too bad.  If she were trying something, she probably would have mentioned his birthday.  Shiloh's mind was reeling.  His palms were sweating.  He was steadily weakening . . .
"I guess it should be fine," Shiloh finally said, giving in.
Alert! Alert! 
"Okay, thanks so much.  I can’t wait to see you!" Arisleyda said, gleefully.
 ***
The phone rang again a few hours after Shiloh got off the phone with Arisleyda.  He was hesitant to answer it, but he did anyway. 
"Hello?" Shiloh asked, hesitantly.
"Hey, Shy," Subria said, cheerfully.
"Subria," Shiloh responded, wincing at the guilty feelings that flooded him when he heard her voice.  "How are you?"
"I’m good.  How are you?" Subria asked.
"I’m great," Shiloh responded. 
"Guess what?" Subria asked.
"What?"
"I can come home for spring break!  Isn’t that great?"
"Really?" Shiloh responded, as a sickening knot developed in his stomach.
"Yeah, I thought it would be nice to hang out with you for your birthday." 
"Oh, that’s so sweet, Subria, but I’m really swamped at school.  It wouldn’t be the best time for you to come," Shiloh responded.
"Oh," Subria said, her excitement leaving her like the air from a punctured balloon.  "I mean, I wasn’t planning on taking up a lot of your time or anything.  I just wanted to take you out to dinner.  It is on a Saturday, after all!"
"Yeah, I really can’t.  I’m sorry," Shiloh said.
"That’s okay.  I guess I can just stay around my campus.  It’s no big deal." 
"I should go now, but it was great to hear your voice!" Shiloh said.
"Yeah, sure," Subria said with a sharp tone.  "See you later."
***
Subria had never been one to take no for an answer, so she came up for spring break anyway to surprise Shiloh for his birthday.  After she got over her initial angry feelings, Subria realized that Shiloh actually sounded sad on the phone, and she had always been able to cheer him up before.  She transferred from the J train at Fulton Street for the A train at Broadway-Nassau, and she stopped by a florist near the West 4th Street train station to pick up some red roses for him.  Those were his favorite flowers. 
Subria continued over to Goddard Hall on Washington Square East, but when she got there and called up for Shiloh, he wasn’t there.  That’s what she was afraid of.  She couldn’t be allowed up to his suite without what they called a "resident host."  Thankfully, his other roommate, Malachi was there and said he’d come down to let Subria in. 
"Hey, Malachi," Subria said, as she embraced him.  She passed her ID to the security guard. 
"Hey.  How are you?"
"Good.  Is he in class?" Subria asked, as Malachi walked with her over to the elevator.
"Yeah, he should be back soon," Malachi responded.
"I wanted to surprise him for his birthday," Subria said, smiling.
"He’ll be surprised all right," Malachi said, making a strange face. 
Just as the elevator arrived, Malachi heard someone call him from the front desk.  He turned around to acknowledge the person, and Subria saw all the color drain from his face.  She recognized the girl from pictures.  She had seen these pictures year ago, but it was impossible for Subria to forget her face.
"Malachi.  Hold on," Arisleyda called.
"Are you going to sign her in, too?" the security guard asked. 
"I don’t think so," Malachi said, looking confused.  "What are you doing back here?"  Subria couldn’t help but take notice of the word back.
"I forgot something upstairs," Arisleyda said.  "I won’t stay, I promise.  Will you sign me in?" 
"Come on," Malachi said begrudgingly, and nodded at the security guard. 
"Hello," Arisleyda said, directing her greeting to Subria as she joined them at the elevator.  "Arisleyda," she added, extending her hand.
"Hi.  Sorry I can’t shake your hand," Subria said, motioning to the bags in her hands.  "I’m Subria."
"Oh," Arisleyda said, as if having an epiphany.  "You’re Subria.  It’s nice to meet you."
"Thanks," Subria said, knowing she was being rude, but not really caring.
"I’ve heard lots of great things about you," Arisleyda continued.  "You’re a lucky girl."
"Shiloh’s the lucky one," Malachi said, as they boarded the elevator.
Subria was dying to ask Arisleyda what she was doing there, but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her presence was bothering her.  She knew Malachi would explain things once Arisleyda left anyway.  She couldn’t imagine any explanation that would calm the rage that was building inside her.  It all became clear.  This is why Shiloh didn’t want her to visit.
After Arisleyda picked up whatever she left, Subria stayed around for a while as Malachi tried to explain things to her, but after about half an hour, she said goodbye to Malachi and went back to her house mourning the loss of the relationship she thought she knew so well.  


Saturday, June 10, 2017

Serendipity (Ms. Afrika)

You know how you've had a really rough go of it, and choose to transition with hopes of things getting better . . . and then they actually seem to get worse? That's what 2014 was like for me professionally. I had been working as the Curriculum and Instruction Director for a history and civics educational non-profit, and while I enjoyed redesigning curriculum and providing culturally responsive and curricular professional development for teachers, I missed engaging in authentic teacher development.The professional development workshops I designed and facilitated were well-received, but I didn't have contact with the teachers after the initial training, and I know how essential on-going support is, and how tranformative it can be. I love that work. I am far more satisfied by providing on-going support for a smaller group of teachers than I am facilitating single sessions for large numbers of teachers, especially with something as important as culturally responsive teaching.

So I applied for and accepted a position as a Curriculum and Instruction Director at a school that I thought would allow me to engage in this kind of work. When I was offered the position, I was surprised when I was asked, "What if we call your position Director of Multicultural Practice and Social Studies Chair?" But I figured it was just a title change. Someone wouldn't just offer you a totally different job than what you applied and interviewed for without explicitly telling you that, right? Turns out that someone else was put in place as the Curriculum and Instruction Director. It was definitely a red flag for me, but by that time I had already given notice at my job and stopped my search, so I tried to make the best of it. Oh yeah, and all administrators have some teaching responsibilities to stay connected to the students. Hmm . . . yeah, it is good for administrators to stay grounded, right?

The role ended up being primarily a teaching role where I was responsible for one section of Ancient Civilizations for the 6th grade Monday through Friday, and to be present while one of the Teaching Fellows taught the other section. No other grade level had two groups of students. Just 6th grade. As a teacher, I also had lunch, recess and dismissal duties (which I hated when I had been a classroom teacher before). Dismissal duty nights were particularly hard because chapel started at 7:50, and school didn't end until 5. We had to stay until every child was picked up (when the weather was bad, dismissal duty felt like it lasted forever). My commute home was about 45 minutes, so dismissal duty nights were exhausting.

Although I was
expecting to mostly be an administrator, the teaching responsibilities might not have been so bad if the classes didn't occur every day, or if I were teaching something I was really interested in like African-American History, or Equity and Social Justice. Had I been given the opportunity, I could have designed an amazing social studies class that was highly relevant for our students. Interestingly enough, though, I didn't have any say over what I'd teach, or what text I'd use, even though I was allegedly the Social Studies Chair. I had been offered a contract in March when the curricular decisions were being made, and I let the school know I was available to meet, but was never invited to participate. To top it off, I was also assigned to teach health 😒.

Serendipity: I have worked in the education field since 1998, and although a couple of groups of students have come close, no group of students has captured my heart like this group of young ladies - 6 Gold and 6 Red (15 girls in each class). I never really enjoyed teaching Ancient Civ, but things I thought I'd dread, I began to look forward to, like being able to eat with them during lunch duty, and talk and laugh with them during recess duty. I enjoyed time with them during chapel, and sitting around together during the break before class started each day. Teaching health was HILARIOUS and very, uh . . . surprising. They had some very interesting ideas to share. I loved watching them enjoy Flocabulary videos, and no ego boost could top coming to class to the girls writing how much they loved me on the whiteboard, and even singing and dancing to Shakira's Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) in tribute to me as I entered the room.

I tried to hang in there, mostly because I loved the girls so much, but I was spending most of my time planning and grading lessons and homework, and not really engaging in teacher development, which is what I love and expected to be doing, so I decided to leave at the end of December for a coaching position. It was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever had to make. In the short time I was at the school, I absolutely fell in love with my girls.

I was blessed to be able to attend their 8th grade graduation dinner and graduation this past week. I am so proud of who they are! Cairo is in the same grade, so I've witnessed the transformation of an 8th grader in my own home on a daily basis this year. I've stayed connected to most of the girls through social media, but seeing them in person! Wow! These young ladies are strong, insightful, intelligent, passionate, hilarious, talented, beautiful, and a myriad other amazing things. Although the circumstances under which I connected with these young ladies was unexpected and disappointing, I would not trade my time with them for anything in the world.

Congratulations, Ladies! You deserve the best of all that life has to offer, and I know you'll change the world with your incredible selves. I am doing what I love, and I hope you all go on to do the same. I will forever be your Ms. Afrika, and you will always be my girls.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

When Subria Goes to College (Kevin)

Summer is just about here, and along with that comes a slower pace, and opportunities to be more creative. It was challenging to keep up with writing after I went to the writers' retreat in February, but now I'm looking forward to revising again. I've signed up for a couple of local writers' mini-retreats and writing sessions this summer, and I'm looking forward to making progress with my story again.

When my accountability partner and I met not too long ago, I shared that I would really like to stop jumping around in the story in my blog posts so much, and yet, as I re-read, I have SO much work to do. There are parts of the story early on that require significant work, and I don't want to wait until that's complete before working on some other ideas in need of development later in the story.

After reviewing this section, here are the questions I have:

1. What more do you want to know about Subria's relationship with her mother?
2. What more do you want to know about Subria's friend, April?
3. Does the journal entry help you to feel more connected to Subria's character?

I'll post another couple of questions at the end after these excerpts (the first is a journal entry by Subria):

August 15, 1998
I've been on a plane before.  Not that many times, but I've been here before.  I like sitting next to the window, even though that means that I usually try to hold off on going to the bathroom so that I don't inconvenience the person sitting next to me.  I like ascending above the earth and watching the city disappear beneath the clouds.  I especially like the way the clouds look like a big, soft blanket.  But the more I think about blankets, the more I am reminded of my mother - how she cried when I left the terminal, how we won't be able to just go to the video store and get movies any more, and how I won't be able to make cookies for the two of us anymore . . . at least not for a long time.  My life will never be the same.  The more I think about my mother, the more my heart swells.  I feel the tears coming . . . falling, and I hope the flight attendant comes by to offer drinks soon so I can get rid of this lump in my throat.  I miss my mom.  
 * * *
There will be another section here about Subria arriving at Sinai University, moving into her dorm with her friend, April, and getting ready to go to the freshman reception. In this excerpt, she's already there:

Since Subria had arrived at Sinai, she had never been inside the All Purpose Building.  She heard all the rumors about how beautiful it was inside, but she figured folks were just exaggerating.  As soon as the greeters opened the doors, Subria realized that she had been wrong.  In front of them was a spiral staircase with marble stairs and golden banisters.  There were gold and silver mylar helium balloons everywhere, and a shimmering chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. 
"Welcome to the Freshman Mixer," one of the greeters said, as he took Subria and April’s arms, leading them over to where their table assignments were waiting. 
"Looks like we’re at two different tables, April," Subria said, disappointed.
"That’s okay.  We need to meet new people, anyway.  I’ll see you after the dinner."
Subria walked nervously over to table 7 to take her seat.  There was a name tag there for her, but she didn’t put it on.  She hated name tags.  Subria figured if someone wanted to know her name, they could just ask her.  She noticed that April walked right past her table over to a crowd of people to introduce herself.  Subria admired how outgoing April was, but she had absolutely no desire to go over there with her.  She looked down at her sequined handbag.  Her mother had given it to her for occasions just like this one, and although she usually hated carrying a bag, she smiled at the memory of her mom going into her memory chest to present it to her.
"You must really like that bag," a young man commented as he approached her and sat down next to her. 
"It’s not like that," Subria laughed.  "My mom gave it to me.  I was just thinking about her."
"I’m Kevin Adams.  What’s your name?"
"Subria Davis.  Nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand.  "Are you assigned to this table, too, or did you just come over here to harass me about smiling at my bag?"
"No, I’m assigned here.  So where are you from?"
"Brooklyn," Subria said, as she picked up the gold forks and spoons and shook her head in amazement.  "Do you think these are real?"
"Yeah," Kevin said, raising his eyebrows.
"Where are you from?" Subria asked.
"I don’t know if I should tell you," Kevin responded.
"Why not?" Subria asked.  "I told you where I’m from.  It’s only fair."
"Boston," Kevin said, sighing.
Subria smiled.  "No wonder you didn’t want to tell me."
"So, now that you know, do you mind if I stay at this table, or would you like me to leave?"
"Well, I guess you can stay, as long as we don’t talk about sports," Subria said, smiling again.
"You sound like my girlfriend.  She hates talking sports."
"Yeah, but I’m sure it’s for a different reason.  I actually do enjoy talking about sports, but I don’t want your feelings to get hurt."
"Ah," Kevin said, laughing.  "So it’s like that?"
"Well, I will say that I think that trading Armas and Pavano for Pedro Martinez was a good move."
"I think so too," Kevin agreed.
"Hey, at least you won the Wild Card," Subria said, taking a sip of what seemed to be a ginger ale and sorbet concoction.  She liked it. 
"Well, what good was it when we lost to the Indians?" Kevin asked.
"I guess.  I was just trying to be polite."
"Yeah, well, it looks like your team is headed for the World Series, so it’s probably best if we just stop talking about it," Kevin said, frowning.
Subria shrugged and took another sip of her drink as several other freshmen came over to the table, including three other handsome young Black men.  She felt relieved to see more students of color. 
"Whassup, Kev?" one of them said, greeting Kevin with the handshake that was unique to young Black men.  Subria always wondered how they all seemed to know that same hand grasping, finger snapping, shoulder bumping greeting no matter what part of the country they were from.  It made her smile. 
"Hey.  Are yall sitting here, too?" Kevin asked.
"Please," the young man commented.  "You know they had to parcel us out.  Can’t have us all sitting with each other.  Don’t even get me started.  Introduce us to your friend!"
"Oh, my bad," Kevin said.  Malcolm Warren, Marcus Phifer, and Amaru Strickland, this is Subria Davis."  Subria shook each of their hands.
"There are definitely more sisters here than I expected.  Serendipity," Amaru commented.
"There you go again with the big words, man.  You know all that a’int necessary!" Kevin said.
"Whatever, kid.  Don’t hate on me because my vocabulary is more exquisite than yours," Amaru said.  "I’m just happy to see you, Subria."
"I know what you mean," Subria agreed.  "I was a little worried when we came for the tour a few months ago.  I guess they’re really trying to diversify."
"Well," Kevin said to Subria, directing her attention to Malcolm, "The two of you should hit it off.  He’s from Brooklyn, too."
"Oh, really," Subria asked.
"Yeah, I’m from Flatbush," Malcolm responded.
            "So is my friend, April.  She’s right over there.  I’ll introduce the two of you later."
  * * *

Questions for you as a reader:
1. What impression do you have of Kevin?
2. What more (if anything) do you want to know or see here? More narration? More dialogue?
3. What questions do you have that you'd like to see answered here?
Kevin's character will play an important role later in the story when Subria and Shiloh experience a significant challenge in their relationship. More about that next week . . .