Thomas before today where I got to hear him speak about his latest book, “Up In Black Arms.” He explained the metaphoric title and compared it to why we, Black people, should be disturbed by the lack of equality here in America. He did a presentation where he compared corporate pay, spoke about racism in professional sports, detailed how our judicial system discriminates and profits from Black guardianship—a term I’d never heard. The man spoke lots of shit I wasn’t familiar with. A few things went over my head, but so many, I caught.
And he was smart. My god, he used words I couldn’t spell or repeat; they were so big and there were so many. I’d seen lots of well-spoken Blacks at Blakewood, but this man was polished and had a posture of confidence like I’d never seen. Tyler Thomas, apparently an accomplished Black journalist who had traveled the globe covering stories on humanity, had just published a book, telling Black people they should be up in arms over the state of our existence in the United States of America. In about thirty minutes, the man made me proud to be in my Black skin, and feel an awareness to it I’d never had. Was this the type of energy Ashton Spencer was on?
This is what he’s into?
“What did you think?” Ashton’s tone seemed nervous as he looked at me from the corners of his eyes.
“That this was very different from Wet-Wet at “Ebonies.”
He spat in laughter, and my eyes circled all around us as people—Black, white, Hispanic, Asians, Indians, and those I had no idea what they were—left their seats, forming a line to leave the auditorium. They were going to get signed copies of “Up in Black Arms.” This was…insane. Why wasn’t this man famous? All these people here—hundreds of stiff folks—and I’d never heard of him. But I’d heard of the topics he covered and the places he traveled. He spoke about stories with Oprah Winfrey, Nelson Mandela, John Lewis, some guy named Clarence Avant, and so many others. He shared causes they contributed to with their money and time for Black people. Blown away. I was blown away by this man.
“I gotta get my shit together,” I whispered, people watching. “That’s what I feel.”
“Right.” Ashton nodded, brows hiked. “Thomas makes you uncomfortable.”
“That’s why you like him?”
His brow line bounced, shrugging. “He makes me feel…hungry. We all have a voice, but the man has an opinion derived from the things he’s seen beyond the U.S. borders. In his last book, a few years ago, he paralleled how Blacks were viewed in different societies such as European countries, Asian countries, and even African countries and compared it to what our experience is and has been here. He’s one of those dudes whose conversation is different because he isn’t getting his material from a textbook. He’s gotten it from sitting amongst the people of foreign lands.” He nodded. “The man knows his shit.”
I blinked, mind just blown. Next to me, Ashton pulled out his phone and began typing. I took that to mean we’d wait until the line to exit died down before leaving ourselves. Although I couldn’t say it in a way to express what I truly felt, I was happy he brought me here. Tyler Thomas’ shit was above my head, but being here made me feel tall. It made me feel like a BSU student. I cleared my throat, licked my lips, and sat up straight.
The line was nearly over and we’d soon get up. I wondered if we’d get a book signed. How much were the books? That question had me leaning over for my bag to see how much money I had on me. Since quitting my job, I’d been holding tight to my money, spending very little. There were few things I needed, like tampons and other hygiene products, which helped.
“Mr. Spencer, you’re beginning to be an expected energy at these events.” My head swung left to the only male voice that close to me that his words were so crisp, even though I knew Ashton wouldn’t address himself. “At least when I’m in this area or that of the NYC Tri-state during the summer.”
I watched Ashton’s head lift from his phone and his eyes slowly brightened when they recognized someone. Then I looked ahead and there he was, the Tyler Thomas guy in the row before ours, leaning over the chair. There were two men to his left, I guessed a