Samara Press Play
SAMARA
PRESS PLAY
“Alyse, girl, you did an amazing job,” I squealed.
We stood on the stage that was set up in the middle of the yard. It was Black Excellence Day, and when Alyse told us she was taking over, I couldn’t believe it.
She turned to me, smiling. “I would take all credit, but the Gray and Gold helped with this, too. Apple started it, but I just helped finish.”
I watched her say it with pride. If I had to guess, she, too, wanted to be a part of the Gray and Gold. It was amazing how influence ran rampant throughout the campus. Some were good influences, others were bad, but I guess it made people who they are.
As the crowd started to get thicker going to each booth, I hurried off the stage and rushed over to mine.
Each piece of artwork I created was displayed on the outside of my booth.
They told a story that bridged the gap between the trials of college and becoming something greater than words.
Each picture held a color that explained what I was trying to convey, from white, which was starting with a blank canvas, to blue, which stirred in the troubles, to black, which was the dark spaces each of us went through to get to the final color, orange, which expressed transformation.
I learned over the course of this semester that the school’s mission didn’t mean you had to be the perfect student or speak about your accomplishments.
The school’s mission was simply personal to each student who attended TSU.
It was a personal commitment you, as the student, needed to embrace to understand that you are your own source of excellence.
It’s beyond the book, beyond campus, and beyond relationships.
It’s something you should strive for because your Blackness is what makes you excellent.
My eyes slowly landed on Apple as she and the Gray and Gold gave out food bags to the students. When she looked at me and smiled, because just as we were all proud, so was she.
The music lowered, and the voice of Ms. August greeted us on the mic.
It was sad to know her time as dean was up.
She was the reason for all of this. I watched her from time to time on campus, and she poured into the students in a way that you knew she cared.
So, to see that they didn’t fully trust her enough to keep her in that position sucked.
Not to mention all the side eyes and snarls I had gotten from Clark, which was irritating, but I just jotted it down in my book, so when I presented it to Chevy, I’m sure he knew what to do with it.
I gave Cecily all my attention as she addressed everyone who was listening in the yard.