CHAPTER 10
CULTURE
SROOGE
Christmas came blasting in our ‘hood. Wasn’t no gentle snow falling, no peaceful tune wrapping around the day.
Nah. It came with chaos. Doors slamming up and down the avenue.
Kids yelling. Pots going before the sun fully came up.
The twins was four, running through the house in socks, sliding across the floor like it was their personal playground.
“It’s Christmas!” Sai kept yelling, his small voice rich with excitement.
“I know!” Sin shouted back, he was trying to hide his excitement, his smile giving him away.
Shay was way too cool for any of the shenanigans. Pretending she wasn’t excited, like the rest of us.
“Y’all calm down, it’s not dat serious,” she mouthed.
Mama had been up before all of us. Food going, grease popping low, desserts in the oven, coffee biting strong on the stove. She had been toting this day on her back for weeks. Money didn’t stretch easy in our house. Regardless, Mama always made it work. Always.
We gathered in the living room, the tree leaning slightly to the left in the corner, lights blinking uneven, they was trying they best.
Presents tucked underneath, not a lot, but it was enough.
Wrapped in paper that didn’t match, tape showing in places, edges kinda rough. But in our eyes, it was perfect.
“Let’s have breakfast first,” Mama said, trying to keep the order. Nobody listened. Saiyd was halfway to the tree.
“Boy—!” Mama snapped.
He froze. Backed up easy. We paused for about two seconds then we was off. Paper tearing. Voices rising. Boxes opening too fast.
“I got it!”
“Lemme see!”
“Dat’s mine!”
Sincere held onto his gifts longer, studying them before opening. Saiyd tore through gifts like they might disappear if he didn’t move fast enough. Shay tried to play it off, acting unimpressed. When she thought nobody was looking, her face softened.
Mama stuck back, eyeing us. Not saying much.
Her shoulders dropped, her mouth lifted at the corners, she was letting herself breathe for the first time in a while.
That’s what the day was truly about. Not the gifts.
The relief. The fact that she made it happen.
Because on our block Christmas didn’t come easy.
It had to be built. Dollar by dollar. Sacrifice by sacrifice.
As usual, the block was electric with activity.
Kids spinning out with new toys, showing them off like trophies.
Radios blasting the Nat King Cole classic, ‘The Christmas Song’, mixed with whatever else was playing.
The cold air smacked your face when you strolled outside, but the chill wasn’t keeping nobody in.
Even in the thick of December, it was like summer.
Not in temperature, in energy. No matter what season it was, the heat didn’t really leave the block.
It just adjusted. Found new ways to show up.
Christmas night finished peaceful. The noise had worn itself out. Paper scattered across the floor, bent boxes, pieces of tape stuck to stuff as proof of what the day had brought. The tree lights still blinked uneven in the corner, red… green… red… they was getting tired too.
Mama sat on the couch, feet tucked under her, a blanket pulled across her lap.
Shay stretched out on the other end of the couch, halfway laid across it.
The twins on the floor, surrounded by new toys spread everywhere, they didn’t know what to play with first.
I lounged on the floor between them, back propped against the couch, legs stretched out.
I was full in a way that didn’t come often.
The TV played low, then Shay grabbed the remote and turned it up.
Black-and-white flickered across the screen.
Bojangles Bill Robinson. He moved with an impossible, feather-light grace.
Shirley Temple beside him, trying to keep up as he showed her how to move.
Tap. Tap-tap. Slide. The beat filled the room, and Saiyd paused.
“Look at his feet,” he said, crawling closer.
“Dat’s fast,” Sincere added, eyes locked in.
Mama beamed.
“I used to watch dis when I was younga,” she told us, her voice warm.
Shay glanced at the screen, then back at Mama.
“Dang, you old,” she muttered.
Mama cracked up,
“Watch yo’ mouth girl.”
The room was warm. Not from heat, from us.
From being in the same space without nothing pulling us apart for once.
It was just us, and the echo of tapping shoes on TV.
I laid my head back against the couch, looking up for a second, then back at the screen.
Watching him move effortlessly, like the world didn’t weigh anything on him at all.
And for that moment, it didn’t weigh on us either.
Mama reached down, absentmindedly running her fingers through my hair. No words. Just absorbing the feeling, I let myself sit in it. That peace. That warmth. Such magic never lasted. When those instances came, you felt them. All the way. And that was a feeling I wanted to hold onto… forever.
Celebration
New Year’s in West Philly didn’t end at midnight.
It lingered. The breeze carried the burn of cheap fireworks, that bitter, dusty smell that clung to your nose and your clothes, like the night refused to let go.
Bottle caps littered along the curb like people tried to decorate the street and gave up halfway through.
The block looked tired, but it wasn’t sleeping, just catching its breath.
By January 4th, the cold had settled in for real. Shay swayed in the mirror, completely unphased by life. She wasn’t getting dressed, she was building herself. Thirteen. She kept turning her head side to side, checking angles, smoothing down what was smooth, fixing what didn’t need fixing.
“Don’t wrinkle my jacket,” she snapped, not looking but knowing Sai had gotten too close.
“I ain’t even touch it,” he said, grinning.
Sincere stood back, inspecting Shay, like he didn’t want to interrupt. Mama scurried around the house. She didn’t have much to work with, but she stretched it anyway.
“I said we keepin’ it simple dis year,” she muttered, more to herself than anybody else.
You could tell she wanted Shay to feel it. Even if it wasn’t big. Even if it wasn’t perfect. A little money turned into cab fare, skate rentals, and a small cake she wrapped in foil like it needed protection.
“You betta’ act right in here,” she barked, pointing at all of us, but her eyes stayed on Shay.
Shay smirked.
“I’m grown.” Mama didn’t answer that.
The skating rink sat on the edge of everything.
Not on the block, not quite outside of it either.
You heard the mayhem before you reached the door.
Music busting through the walls, bass so thick it shook loose whatever problems you thought you came in with.
The second the door opened the heat wrapped around you.
Heavy. Sweaty. Alive. Lights spun slow across the rink floor, dragging color over faces. Red bled into blue, blue into green.
Shay didn’t hesitate. She stepped right in like she belonged there. This was her night. This was her world. Tasha and Kamri was already there, hanging on the rail with absolute authority.
“Bout time you got here,” Tasha called out, pushing off the wall.
Kamri followed, arms crossed, mugging Shay up and down before cracking a smile.
“You cute or whateva.”
“Oh, I know,” Shay shot back, giggling.
They folded into each other. Three girls moving as one, voices overlapping, energy bouncing off the walls.
I stayed back a second. Not because I didn’t want to go in, but because I wanted to see it.
The way Shay shifted. At home, she was rude, quick to snap, constantly pushing against authority.
With her friends, she loosened. Her shoulders relaxed.
Her smile came easier. Like the world didn’t weigh on her the same.
The floor was crowded. Skates slicing across wood, people weaving in and out of each other. Some moved smooth, like they had been doing it forever. Others held onto the rail, legs stiff, bodies jerking every time they lost balance. The DJ talked over the music,
“Aight, aight, who think dey can skate fa’ real tonight? Cash prize fa tha best electric slide.”
A few cheers. A few laughs. One person fell near the center, hard enough to make a whole group react at once.
“Get up! You good?”
“I’m straight—” Laughter followed. Always laughter. Even when it hurt.
Shay glided onto the floor with a point to make.
Her push-off was clean, smooth, like she trusted her body to catch her wherever she went.
Tasha followed close. Kamri not far behind.
They moved together, circling the rink, cutting through people who didn’t move fast enough.
Shay leaned into it, the speed, the rhythm, the attention.
Each turn more graceful than the last. Every glide a bit showier than it needed to be.
She wasn’t skating. She was being seen. Thirteen on the block wasn’t just a birthday. It was a shift.
I laced up slower, and rolled onto the floor easy, finding my balance. The twins hovered at the edge, hands gripping the rail.
“Don’t let go,” Sai said.
“Man, I’m not,”
Sin answered, as his grip tightened.
Mama was positioned near the edge, her eyes tracking all of us at once.
Making sure nobody slipped too hard, nobody drifted too far.
She never relaxed. Not fully, definitely not in a place like this.
Her gaze stuck on Shay the longest. Not fear exactly but knowing.
She could see the way the world was starting to open up around her daughter and all the ways it could go.
Halfway through the night, the energy switched. Two guys clipped shoulders near the middle of the floor. Words came quick.
“Yo’ watch where tha fuck you goin’ nigga!”
“Foo, you ran into me.”
It didn’t take much. We knew how fast a small thing could turn into a big thing. Shay rolled past it. Didn’t look. Didn’t get caught in it. She knew better.
The night had settled back down and cake came out. Mama put it on a small table close to the wall, smoothing the foil like it mattered how it looked. The icing was slightly off-center. The letters slanted into each other. SHAY 13. Simple.
Mama lit the candles,
“Come on ya’ll,” she announced.
Shay led her friends to the table. The racket around us seemed to drop in the background. At least for me.
“Make a wish baby,” Mama added.
Shay hesitated and rolled her eyes before she leaned in and blew out the candles in one breath. Mama pulled her into a hug.
“Happy birthday,” Mama wished.