I'm a fan

This is one mysterious kid.

That’s what I thought when I first met D. (I won’t use his full name here.)

D had created a little buzz through the Sitar Arts Center staff office talk, presumably because of his precarious home-life, but I still don’t know the backstory and maybe it isn’t even important to our relationship right now. He’s tall with a short afro and often wears a white t-shirt that reads I’M BLACK in huge bold letters. He started greeting me with hugs soon after I introduced myself to him one day as he was coming in for guitar lesson. At first I thought it was going to be one of those awkward relationships where the high school boy has a crush on me because I’m the only female in his life who’s interested in him as a person. But somehow we moved past that after I wouldn’t let him hang out at my desk and I used my camp counselor skills to defer to side-hugs and less physical contact.

I never knew there were so many different ways that “alright” could answer the question “how are you?” Or sometimes it’s just a nod. Other staff members have described him as “a man of few words,” but I’ve never found it uneasy to have a conversation with him even if he doesn’t talk a lot. In Lyric and Songwriting class we started and ended each session with dives, two-minute free-writing exercises on a variety of topics. D rarely read his dive aloud, but one time he followed the prompt “I am from…” with “government cheese.” Thinking about it after class that evening still sent chills up my spine.

Over the past six months I’ve felt a growing maturity in him from how he deals with frustration with his dad to the development of the teen rock band at the Center. Oh, the band. It seems that they are always together practicing or talking about practicing or writing songs and lyrics, but hardly have anything to show for it considering the amount of time they put into it. And somehow, through some magic that is completely unexpected yet makes sense, D is the one that can hold them together and make it possible for them to get their act together and perform this week.

On stage, he wore black plastic sunglasses and his favorite t-shirt under an open short-sleeve plaid shirt. Being in the spotlight is something he’s good at but doesn’t seek purposely, at least it doesn’t seem that way. On Thursday I told him that he’s nominated for an award. He doesn’t know that I nominated him and that the award is for Most Improved because of all the growth I’ve seen in him this semester. Nonetheless he was genuinely surprised and proud and humbled all at the same time and in such a subtle way. My heart sang a little just to see his reaction. Last night after the performance, I thanked him for his leadership, maturity, and diligence in preparing the band and I can honestly say that it wasn’t an over-the-top, ego-boosting compliment.

I can honestly say that I’m rooting for this kid. I’m rooting for him so hard that he can overcome the obstacles society has put in his way. I want so badly for him to become something with all this potential. He’s at a good point, but also a precarious point. If I was reading about a fictional character I could look at this situation and see a turning point where either the potential could be used for good or for bad. I get wrapped up in fictional characters as I watch their lives unravel or unfold before me. This story is slower and I’m really wrapped up in the most mysterious yet subtly and profoundly overcoming kid I know.