Chapter Xavier
XAVIER
How do we define Black Excellence? Do we choose to look at it through one lens in which excellence can only be associated with fame, accolades, and achievements? Or is it possible excellence can be rooted in you from the time you're born?
Society has a notion that one can be defined this way only when they have reached the highest altitude of success.
My theory is that the greatest success comes from those who have been through trials and triumphs.
I cannot speak wholly, but I can speak from truth.
Growing up in a world where everyone around you experiences some form of trauma, you find ways to weed yourself out.
Not only out of the mind state but the position itself.
Sometimes you find yourself caught in the web, whether from friends, family, or a lover.
The trauma is transferable, especially in the Black community.
We tend to carry everyone’s emotions on our backs.
There are some who carry the weight of everyone's trauma but somehow manage to use that not only as a way to be better, but also as some sort of superpower. The trauma is like a drug; once it’s in you, it’s hard to get rid of.
Just as some drugs wear people down, some people can still function regularly.
It’s the drive one needs to do better. This doesn’t mean success, but rather being stronger, better, resilient, and empowered.
I can be a testimony to how the traumas of my own and others’ lives have changed me into something I would consider Black excellence.
It has strengthened me, opened my eyes, made me much more resilient, sharpened my focus, and ultimately pushed me to do better and be better.
Excellence is not defined by success or achievements; it is who you are and what you're becoming. It’s your past, present, and future.
It’s your drive, determination, and ability to live through your trauma.
There is no space nor time that determines this. It’s what you make it.
I am Black Excellence.
Xavier Keyton.
I hit send on my paper and closed my laptop. I picked up my phone to call Jalen when a phone call came in from him. I hurriedly picked up.
“Yo, yo.” There were light sniffles. I sat up. “You good?”
“Ye-ye-yeah. I-I-I got in,” he stuttered.
A bright smile eased on my face. “Congratulations, bro! Fuck yeah!” I shouted.
My team stared at me like I was crazy. A tear dropped from my eye because this was a long time coming for my baby brother.
Although he was starting fresh, and I was graduating next year, it was going to feel good to be around him.
I finished up my call and set my phone on my laptop.
I stood from the bench and made my way to the court with everyone else.
“You sure you’re ready?” my coach asked.
“Only one way to find out,” I told him.
He checked me the ball. “We’ll start off with light drills and work our way up. Cool?”
I nodded. “Cool.”
I’d missed March Madness, but it was cool.
I was finally back on the court preparing for next season.
I was ready to work harder than I had ever before.
However, I knew God did it all for a reason, and I was happy He did because not only did I appreciate the love of basketball more, but now I also knew my worth.