Rashid Darden

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Rashid

Gratitude on the occasion of my 33rd birthday

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I am grateful to the Civil War-era orphan Peter Darden, who married Julia Jordan and began the branch of my family tree which would give me my last name.  I will probably never know the first four years of his life, who his parents are, or how he came to live in a poor house at such a young age.  But I know that his resilience lives in me just as strong as his last name.

I am grateful to Southampton County, Virginia, and Northampton County, North Carolina, for being my families’ ancestral homes.  I am grateful to Southampton County, VA, in particular for also being the home of Nat Turner and his slave rebellion.  I am convinced that the spirit of this rebellion lives on in me; that the reason that I am never satisfied with the status quo and become incensed at injustice is because of the blood spilled in Southampton County.

I am grateful to my mother for wanting me in spite of being alone, for keeping me despite the stigma of single parenthood, for raising me to be who I am by any means necessary.

I am grateful to my grandparents on my mother’s side for being present in my life for as long as they lived (and still live).

I am grateful to the teachers of the District of Columbia Public Schools who believed in me and saw my talents at a young age.  They are many in number, and thankfully the ones who disappointed me were few.

I am thankful for my brothers and sisters who proudly wear the Orange and Gray.

I am grateful to Georgetown for taking a chance on me.   Georgetown changed my life forever.  There’s no better way to put it.

I am grateful to the people who slowly and subtly introduced me to Alpha Phi Omega just by living it daily:  Joe, Nathalie, Belen, and Liz.  You didn’t know it then, but you paved the way for limitless leadership opportunities for me.  When you “do” APO right, it builds a personal and professional foundation which is unparalleled.

Once upon a time, an 18 year old boy was about to begin college.  He waited at the bus stop to take him to school.  A purple Rolls Royce pulled up and some familiar and friendly faces offered to take him to fraternity row.  The boy said sure.  Along the way, the men in the Rolls told him stories of fraternity life and assured him that he’d make a fine fraternity member one day.  The boy became excited at the prospect of joining the men.  A mile from fraternity row, the men kicked the boy out of the car and tossed him his bag.  “You go the rest of the way on your own,” they said.  Discouraged, the boy walked up the road and found many houses to choose from.  He ultimately chose the house with the black Bentley parked out front.  He always kept the purple Rolls in his mind and wondered what his life would have been had he chosen that path.  But he was grateful that the men – his friends and mentors- had allowed him to find his own way.  Thank you, Omega Psi Phi, Alpha Chapter, Spring 96.

I will always be grateful to Ameriie for supporting my career before I had one.

There are people who I will never be able to say thank you to again, at least not in the flesh.  But now that they belong to the universe again, I am sure that they know it.  Thank you Jesse, Maya, Jimi, Jabriel, Tre’Nai, and so many more.

I am grateful, ever so grateful, to all of you who have supported my career as a novelist.  This is hard work that is so infrequently rewarded; frustrating work that is still stigmatized if you are self-published.  Even now I notice those friends in the writing world who interact with me less the more I grind and hustle BECAUSE I HAVE TO and nobody else will hustle for me.  So to my readers, my fans, and my stans – I thank you and I have no doubt that this will all pay off some day.

I am grateful for Neil, my constant.

I am grateful for the faces in my life who provided the visual blueprint for Adrian Collins, Savion Cortez, Nina Bradley, and Isaiah Aiken.  When I first wrote Lazarus, I knew who these faces were.  By the time I finished Epiphany, they had their own wrinkles and scars and complexions – they are new people entirely.  But I am still grateful to the blueprints.

I am grateful to my mentor, Dennis Williams, who helped me transform my anger and resentment to an artist who I am certain copied my work, into the rebirth of my career as a whole.  This is one time in my life where I truly believe the adage that the best revenge is living well.  Dennis has been the closest thing to a father figure that I will ever know.

I am grateful to all of you who can read me.  Those of you who know when I am “on” and when I am “off” and when I need propping and when I need prodding.  I don’t know how to pick friends who are intuitive, but I am grateful for you.

I am grateful to the men who taught me how to kiss, how to hug, and how to make love.  (There weren’t THAT many.  I was a quick study.)

I am grateful to the women who respect my masculinity, who have never asked me to be the Will to their Grace, who have never asked who the man is in my relationships (we both are), who understand that they will never be my “fag hag,” who respect my space to be among men, regardless of their orientation, and who, without hesitation, knew I was going to the same heaven they’d be going to.

I am grateful to the men – the straight men – who treat me as their equal regardless of my sexual orientation, who expect (and demand) that I am exactly as I am in their presence; the men who are not uncomfortable by my stories or my jokes; the men who do not look away during Noah’s Arc or the DL Chronicles; and the men who read my novels and enjoy them exactly as they are.

I am grateful to the little brothers in the struggle, those who have come after me and are brave enough to disclose their orientation to me.  I never know how much I can help them, but every time a young brother in the struggle discloses his orientation, I feel I have been given a sacred trust to protect, to shield, to guide through the rough times, and to prepare before it’s time to come out and be yourselves.  I value that so much.

I am grateful to the people I never had to come out to.  It’s quite meaningful to me that hundreds of Coolidge alumni or Tried Stone members can add me as a friend, see one of my statuses, and just roll with it.  We’ve come so far.

I am grateful for Ciroc and Absolut.  What?

I am grateful for Adobe Acrobat, InDesign, and PhotoShop.

I am grateful for a place to stay that has space for all my belongings and the means to pay for it.

I am grateful for Magianno’s and Diet Ginger Ale and Haribo Peace slices and red velvet anything.

I am grateful for pre-hoarding  tendencies.  If it’s not in your local library, ask me.

I am grateful for horror movies and Halloween pot lucks and True Blood.

I am grateful for my former students – I had no idea I would ever be a teacher of any kind and I’m glad to have had some small part in their education.

I am grateful to be a man.  It is a blessing to recognize one’s own privilege in this world and I don’t take my manhood for granted.  I may be a minority in other ways, but I recognize that my manhood gets me places that being a woman will not.  I do not abuse this privilege, but I recognize it.

I am thankful for having recognized my calling as a novelist who also happens to be a nonprofit professional.  Observe the order: it will never change.

I am grateful that I have the “eye” for photography.  I will never be a great technical photographer, but I’m happy that I spent time learning how to compose a picture.  Sometimes I forget it’s one of my talents because I don’t have the time to cultivate it like I should.

I am grateful for all of the friends who have been in my life for a reason; the friends in my life who have been there for a season; and the friends who will be there for a lifetime.  We don’t always know the reason or how long the season, and we don’t know for how long the lifetime will last.  But for all of you who I have considered a friend, I do love you, and chances are I’ve told you.

I am thankful, grateful, and humbled to have been given 33 years on this planet to do good things and to change the lives of others; to live every single moment to the fullest extent possible; to have loved with all of my heart and to have been loved; to be proud in exactly who I am, whether I knew who I was at that moment or not; to have been changed by the many people I have met; and to have written stories with resonance, that made others cry as I’ve cried writing them.  I love who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m going.  I am Rashid from Tuckerman Street, from 2nd Street, from 16th and Meridian, from Georgetown, from Riggs Park, from Brightwood Park.  I take pictures.  I write books.  Yet, I wear jeans and t-shirts and would walk around barefoot if I could.  I am the King of Dardenland who carries Hattori Hanzo steel.  I am the heir of the legacy of Peter Darden.  I am the father figure to some, the brother of many, the son of two, and the father of those yet to come.

But above all of those things, I am grateful to be here.

Hebrews 13

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  1. Let brotherly love continue.
  2. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

(From the 13th Chapter of Hebrews, English Standard Version)

In Lazarus, which is my first novel, I discuss in detail the pledge process of the Sigma Chapter of Beta Chi Phi Fraternity, Inc.  Reactions to the fact that it is so detailed have been mixed.  Some people (who are Greek) feel that it is too detailed and I have somehow defiled the sanctity of “The Process.”  Others (who are not Greek) are simply uninterested in the minutia of a pledge process and wish I would focus on the characters more.  Then there is the majority, who get so engrossed in the details of the process that it is entirely fulfilling to them.

Certain mysteries of Greekdom remain by the end of Lazarus though, not the least of which are what sort of ritual secrets the pledges learn when they cross.

In Covenant, we learn one of those secrets: the motto.  Taken from the first verse of Hebrews 13, the secret motto is “Let brotherly love continue.”  It is spoken as part of the opening ceremonies of the chapter meeting.  It is also the backbone of the philosophy of the entire organization, which is fleshed out further in Epiphany.

To the Betas, letting brotherly love continue is their prime directive.  No matter what, the brotherhood must go on.  It is this directive that Craig follows which turns him from virulent homophobe to merely an aggressive prophyte helping Adrian prove his mettle.  We know that in reality, Craig is still a homophobe, but his belief in the motto of the fraternity allows him to at least silence his rage and begin the process of accepting Adrian as he is, where he is.

The motto is exemplified more organically by the majority of Adrian’s line brothers, who in their own way and apart from Adrian, learn to accept his sexuality in spite of what popular opinion may be.  Further, on either side of the spectrum, there are members of the line who do far less than accept Adrian and those who do far more – those who never doubted their brotherly love for Adrian for a second.

What is addressed in Epiphany is the second verse of the chapter.  Regarding hospitality, it admonishes the reader (and in this case, Betas) to show hospitality even to strangers, lest their own divinity be ignored.  A literal reading could take this passage to mean that actual angels could be ascertaining your worth by a test of your hospitality.  A more liberal reading, perhaps that of a Quaker, might suggest that if God is in all of us, then we are disrespecting God by being inhospitable to strangers.

In Epiphany, as an Amazon reviewer states, Adrian finds an element of his own strength through his interactions with other Beta chapters.  It could be argued that these brothers, who for all intents and purposes, are able to recognize the God within each other without having to know each other directly.  They gain camaraderie as well as strength; social ties as well as benefits from these relationships.  They are trained to be hospitable to one another, which further facilitates letting brotherly love continue.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve performed an exegesis – hope my Theology professors are proud!

While Beta Chi Phi is obviously a fictitious fraternity, I wanted to inject what I felt were the important parts of Greekdom into the mythology of this organization.  Brotherly love (and sisterly devotion) should always transcend the bad times, if possible, of course.  I don’t mean merely glossing over the bad times or not addressing drama as it occurs – I mean that the type of people who join an organization should be the ones who have the capacity to transcend.  Even though, as I said above, Craig might not actually be cured of his homophobia, at least he understands that there is decorum which he must adhere to now that Adrian is his brother.  I was not always afforded those same courtesies when my brotherhood learned that I was openly gay.  I was indeed accosted and literally surrounded by members of another chapter for that very reason.  And there was the hate mail I received through my previous website – a reason that I will not allow comments on my diary to this day.

But I’m not a victim, so don’t worry about all that.  There will always be those people for whom brotherly love cannot transcend their own prejudices.  I blame the prophytes.  And in the absence of prophytes, I blame the parents.

Regarding hospitality, I am troubled by those Greeks who do not perform their due diligence at accommodating fellow members of organizations.  Yes, yes, I am that same guy who frequently tells people “I joined Alpha Phi Alpha, not the NPHC.”  But I mean it for different reasons.

When I say we should accommodate our fellow Greeks, I mean that if there is a Sigma that I can consider for an internship, I will consider him.  I like interns.  They don’t have to all be Alphas.

If I see a Greek on the street – any Greek – I am going to acknowledge them, even if they are outside of my council, or even a member of a so-called “white” fraternity or sorority.

If a friend has invited me to a crossing party for their special, I am going to attend if I can or send a greeting or a card if I can’t.

Just be hospitable.  Be nice.  Do for others.  It’s not hard.

I went to a city for a work conference and met with as many friends and acquaintances as I could.  One was a member of another fraternity.  We had other things in common, but I tried my hardest to meet up with this dude and make sure he understood the opportunities for service and professional advancement that I was in town for.  Never met up with him.  Just didn’t happen.  Didn’t ever hear a good explanation, really.

And on the other hand, I met up with another person – an AKA – and even though a partnership never happened between our two jobs, the effort was made to meet up, to be hospitable, to “build” as the hip-hop community might say.  This is what being Greek is all about.  Taking a large network and using it to your benefit – not just because that’s what it’s there for, but because it also ought to be fun.

Obviously, “building” isn’t just for Greeks.  The same theory of being hospitable to “strangers” can and should be utilized across all of your large networks.  If you are a Georgetown alum, you already have commonalities with Duke and Syracuse alums.  Bitter rivalries are for basketball.  Put down the sword and get to work.  Same for Howard and Hampton.  We can do big things here.

Whether you believe in angels or not, you must certainly believe in good karma or paying it forward.  As Hebrews admonishes us to do, make these sacrifices.  Whether you believe they are sacrifices to God or to some personal gain, it can’t hurt to just be hospitable.  I think indifference is a good gateway to spite and I’m definitely trying to have less of that in 2012.

When I found out about Y-Love

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Last week, I discovered the existence of Y-Love, a newly out, gay and black and Jewish rapper.

At first I was like:

Then I saw that he was cute, and I was like:

THEN I read that he was looking for a husband, and I was like:

Then I followed him on twitter, and he followed me back!!!!!  AND I WAS LIKE:

Y-Love.  Holla at me.

He decided to die.

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I was raised in the Baptist church.  After flirting with Islam while enrolled in (my very Jesuit) college I settled on being a Quaker philosophically.  I suppose I have identified with the Religious Society of Friends since 2007, but I am one of those lames who just subscribes to the magazines without attending the meetings.  Shout out to the Friends Journal, though.

Even as I drifted away from from organized religion, I remained a fan of gospel music, particularly anything produced before 1985 or so.  Always been an old soul, so I like my gospel as old and as soulful as it possible without actually being a slave holler.

“He Decided to Die” has been one of my favorites for a while now.  This morning, knowing it was Good Friday, I listened to this hymn and was able to internalize it in a different way for the first time.

He decided to die.

He could have saved himself, but he decided to die, believing this was the way to save everybody.  He was a sacrifice for the saving of others, for you, for me, etc.

I am not a traditional Christian.  I do not understand why this works theologically.  But millions believed it before I did, so okay, whatever.  My point here is not the mystical aspects of the death of Jesus, but to be able to say “Wow, this dude was so convinced of this that he made a decision to die.”

Imagine a parent who gives their child the last parachute in a plane which is about to crash.

A brother who gives his sister the last life preserver on a sinking ship.

A cop who jumps in the line of fire to save his partner.

People, just like you and me, who make a decision that they must die so another may live.

These themes tie into a work of fiction that I have had in my head for literally a dozen years.  Can’t divulge details now… but I can literally say “Thank you, Jesus” for helping me bring it all together.

And I must say, whether you are the staunchest Christian or an atheist, I don’t think the most important message to be drawn here is necessarily one of salvation.  (And truly, if you’re not Christian, you’d be off-put by that.)  I think the message here is that someone believed he had to die and was willing to do so for the sake of others.  So whether you believe or not or you’re just not sure, maybe you can relate to just that one piece.

Happy Easter to some, happy weekend to all.

I’m not your steppin’ stone

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I used to love The Monkees.

So tonight, a fellow Alpha Phi Omega brother and I were talking shop as we often do.  He is also a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., so we often discuss Greek life as a whole.  He’s been a Kappa for longer than I have been an Alpha, but we both crossed APO within about a year of each other.  (As a brief side note, a member of his APO chapter at Florida State came to Georgetown and gave birth to our chapter, so there’s a connect there, too.)

We’ve seen a lot in APO over the years, including a sharp increase in the numbers of African Americans who pledge and are initiated.  We think this is a good thing, obviously, because we believe more people of color would enjoy our Brotherhood if they gave it a chance.  But they can’t give it a chance without the proper introduction, and it’s tough for a majority culture to expose APO to a minority culture without coming across as pandering.

With a large increase in African American membership comes an increase in the numbers of APO members who are also in Black Greek Letter Organizations (BGLOs).  There are some, like my buddy, who pledged NPHC first and then APO.  The majority, however, pledge APO first and then become members of NPHC orgs, whether as undergraduates or through alumni chapters, as I did.

This, too, is a good thing.  I believe that if someone has truly been an active member of Alpha Phi Omega and utilized all the resources it has to offer, then they come to BGLOs with a deeper sense of service to humanity than the average prospect.  They should also already know how to run a meeting, how to plan a campus program, and how to coordinate a service project.  Basically, Alpha Phi Omega membership should refine you and prime you for the next logical step after service:  social justice.

Most BGLOs don’t just do service, they actually take an active interest in the uplift of people of color beyond Band-Aid solutions.  As Jamie M. Grant says in her article “Concept of Social Justice Goes Beyond Service:”

Many of us have heard the old saying — give a man a fish and he eats for a day, teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. Some say, well giving a fish is charity, while teaching someone to fish is service.
Social justice leaders react to this proverb differently. We wonder:
Who owns these fish?
Why don't we all have access to them?
Is eating fish sustainable?
Who is this hungry man and what does he have to say about his situation?
And finally, where are the women?

Alpha Phi Omega (sadly, if you ask me) doesn’t often ask these questions in the average course of undergraduate membership.  Those members who are ready to answer those questions as alumni most likely find another avenue, whether it’s through BGLO as I have chosen, or whether it’s through their faith communities, or some other means like donating to an organization who has social justice values.

African Americans who perform service often have an uncommon sense of devotion to social justice.  We are not far removed from Jim Crow; our grandparents not that far removed from slavery.  It makes sense that African American APO members would be interested in BGLOs, and if they weren’t before, APO is often the starting point and connector.

BUT.

Let’s be clear.

Alpha Phi Omega is not a stepping stone toward membership in a BGLO.

Typically, an Alpha Phi Omega chapter will have a service requirement to maintain membership in a collegiate chapter.  Sure, you have to pledge and get service hours (or a certain number of projects) in order to cross.  But you also usually have to pay semesterly dues and maintain ten, twenty, or even thirty hours of service in a semester to maintain active status.

You probably already know that many BGLOs require letters of recommendation as part of the application package.  Not all, but some.  And of those organizations, some require a letter verifying that you have performed community service.

This is the crux of my problem.  An Alpha Phi Omega member may feel empowered to ask their Vice President of Service or project coordinator for a letter of recommendation based on their service in the chapter.  I don’t agree with this.

I don’t believe that service you had to perform as a condition of maintaining your membership in one organization should count toward your membership in another organization, particularly one which may take time away from your APO commitments in the long run.

Can you see how that’s a conflict?  I can’t ethically turn in a paper I wrote in one class for another class and get the same credit.  (Well, maybe I could, but I shouldn’t – the professor has an expectation that the work will be original.)

It also poses a conflict when you actually ask your own brother for the recommendation.  What if the quality of your service actually isn’t all that good?  Then your brother is forced to write a bad recommendation (I have seen this happen) or tell you they won’t write you one at all.  Then it spirals out of control, causes a rift in the chapter, and then it’s freakin’ anarchy.

And let’s not talk about the number of men I’ve met in APO who send me that private message or phone call about wanting to become an Alpha.  How do I know your zeal for APO was genuine?  How do I know you really wanted to get to know me because I am your APO brother alone, and not because you wanted to know if I will sponsor you for membership?

Your pursuit in a BGLO should be discreet.  Not necessarily totally secret, but I think it opens a world of problems when you involve your APO chapter in your pursuit by expecting that they will recommend your for membership.

Keep them separate.  It will make your experience even more special.

So then, you may be asking me what a prospect should do if all their service is through APO.  How can they get a good, personal recommendation any other way?

Well, firstly, all of your service should not be through just APO.  If you want to be an Alpha, for example, and presuming we need that sort of recommendation, then I need to see you transcending the realm of service to approach a philosophy of social justice that is similar to our own.  Cleaning up garbage on the highway is not Alpha.  Cleaning up the garbage from a poor, mostly minority community, setting up a recycling program for kids, teaching their moms and dads about jobs in the green sector – now that’s Alpha.

Your service should be through organizations you’re passionate about.  Yes, you can be passionate about APO, but in that case, APO itself is the endgame.

By passion, I mean a cause you care about enough to devote your time to by yourself, if you have to.  You reach out to that organization, you schedule time to volunteer, and you do it over a period of time.  THEN you ask for a letter of recommendation.

And yes, you might discover that an APO program you already do will suffice.  If that happens, don’t ask a brother to write your recommendation.  Your service should be so profound, so meaningful and impacting, that the executive director or volunteer coordinator of that nonprofit should be glad to write your letter of recommendation.  That is far more impressive than your peer writing your letter.  And it means a potential contact for you professionally, whether you make it or not.

And won’t you be glad that your entire chapter won’t then be in your business?  Discretion will be intact.

These are just my opinions.  Most may not have that strong an opinion because it affects such a small segment of their chapter’s population.  But for me, I will always be an African American brother of APO and an Alpha, so this will probably be something I experience for the rest of my life.

I’m just saying that if you try your pursuit my way, you will maximize your total package and minimize the total drama.  Hopefully.

Alpha Phi Omega is not your steppin’ stone.  But it is there to help you serve and to begin the conversation of social justice.

If you’re searching, then good luck to you!

Edited to add: 

I forgot to mention that there are several notable members of Alpha Phi Omega who are also members of BGLOs:

  • Bill Clinton is an honorary member of Phi Beta Sigma and pledged APO as an undergraduate at Georgetown
  • Melody Barnes was the Director of the Domestic Policy Council under Barack Obama.  She pledged APO and Alpha Kappa Alpha while at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill.
  • Former President of Howard University H. Patrick Swygert and former Secretary of the Army Togo West, Jr. are both initiates of Omega Psi Phi, Alpha Chapter and Kappa Psi Chapter, respectively.
  • Current candidate for General President of Alpha Phi Alpha Roderick Smothers pledged APO at Louisiana State.

Remembering Crushes Past with Hot Mama

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I have no children.

Ironically, there are many women in my life who have claimed me as their baby’s father.  Usually, these kids don’t really exist. As in, it’s a joke.  Sometimes there will be a kid who looks like me, so the joke is I’m their real daddy.  And other times, people just accuse me of being a closet heterosexual with kids stashed away somewhere.

One of my baby’s mamas (We’ll call her Hot Mama) came over to visit today for an alumni reunion meeting.  We looked through old yearbooks as a guide to figure out who would be likely to come to our reunion.  It was fun.  I pointed out a few guys I had crushed on and wondered where they were.  Much like the main character in Lazarus, Adrian Collins, I have had many crushes on many boys over a long period of time. It is only recently that I haven’t had a serious one.

Hot Mama asked me if I had been dating anyone.  The answer was no.  I guess you could say that I had a date earlier in the winter when I entertained a guy who was otherwise occupied in the intricacies of his own life.  It didn’t go anywhere, nor should it have.  And before then, it had been a year since I’d gone on a date.

I don’t feel single.  I generally feel fulfilled and accomplished and I don’t have a desire for children.  Yes, I get lonely and some nights it’s worse than others.  But it is not a chronic loneliness.  Recurring.  Acute.  But not chronic.

For some reason, I got out one of my Georgetown yearbooks and flipped it open to the [sport redacted] page.  I paused.  No, it wasn’t a pause.  It was a full stop.  And this wave of euphoria just came over me.  Hot Mama noticed it immediately.

“Well who the hell is that?” she asked.

“This right here…..this is the face that launched three novels.”

I’m of the opinion that most great works of fiction start with the question “What if?”

I won’t describe him here.  I won’t tell you the sport he played.  I won’t tell you anything else, really.

The events of Lazarus and Covenant and Epiphany are completely fictitious.  They really are.  But the people whose faces inspired the characters…the men whose eyebrows and noses and cheekbones…..and their walks and their smells and their smiles….. those guys are real.

Over the years, they became other people.  “Adrian” became Adrian.  He had his own story to tell and he chose me to tell it.  “Savion” became Savion, and he used me to share with you the anguish of being unlucky in love, to be misunderstood as clingy and stubborn when all he wanted was his enchanted love.  And “Isaiah” became Isaiah, passionate, loyal, humble, and flawed.  And he used me as the medium to let you know the depth and breadth of his love for Adrian.

The aesthetic inspirations for these characters have all gone on to other, better things I suppose.  From time to time, I encounter them and feel lucky to have known them then, and grateful to know them now.  I support who they are.  I celebrate who they became.  And I’m thankful for what they gave me, for as a 19 year old Sophomore at Georgetown, my “Savion” and my “Isaiah” were the seeds to my “what ifs.”  Those seeds became a play, first called “Behind Closed Door” then “Discretion” about a fraternity man and a varsity basketball player.  And then my characters said no, tell the whole story, and tell it right.  And I gave birth to Lazarus, and the characters didn’t even look like the seeds anymore.  And then came Covenant and then came Epiphany, and the next thing you know it’s over a decade later and my babies didn’t remotely look, talk, or sound like their inspirations anymore.

My “what ifs” became “what is.”  My crushes became “what was.”

My crushes launched three novels.  Imagine what my loves will launch.