A Particular Kind of Black Man by Tope Folarin

Author:Tope Folarin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2019-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

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One bright September afternoon, about two years after Mom and your new brothers arrived from Nigeria, your father announced that you were moving to Texas. Dad told you that he and Mom would find better jobs in Texas and you would have a chance to learn more about your Nigerian heritage since there were many more Nigerians in Texas than Utah. Mom nodded as he spoke. She did not say a word. Then your father cleared his throat. He said the move to Texas would also be good for Ade, who would be starting school soon. “I’ve heard that Texas schools are very good,” he said. “Ade is a smart child. He needs the very best.” Your mother smiled wide. You father grinned and folded his arms. The last time you’d seen him so happy was when he’d sold a hundred dollars’ worth of ice cream during a single stop. Ade began clapping his hands. “I’m going to school soon! I’m going to school soon,” he sang. He was jumping up and down. He was four now, and he no longer looked like your father. Nor did he look like your mother. He looked like someone else, someone you had never met before. Someone you would never meet.

You were sad about moving to Texas, but excited too, because you had seen Texas in the movies, and you imagined open spaces, and scores of cattle, and Southern accents, and something different from the cloistered life you were leading. So you packed for days and said your goodbyes, and then you were on the road, riding in the back of your father’s ice cream truck with the rest of your siblings, the Wasatch Mountains slowly diminishing behind you.

Your family arrived in Cirrilo, Texas, after almost a day of driving. You moved in with a friend of your father’s from college. Dad’s friend stashed you and your brothers in the small guest bedroom, and you spent all evening fighting for scraps of floor space. On your first night in Texas, after you said your prayers and before your father went to sleep, he passed you a cheap clock radio. He told you you’d have to use it to get up for school since he would be leaving quite early every morning to find work.

That night, after setting the alarm, you roamed the stations until you came across a hip-hop and R&B station. The sounds you heard then, flowing in waves from the speaker as if through a broken dam, almost drowned you. You cupped the radio to your ear, and when your brothers heard the whispering sounds they gathered around, even little Ade, snot dripping from his nose, a raggedy teddy bear in his hand. You listened with them, eyes closed.

You heard Boyz II Men sing for the first time that night. The DJ said “And now ‘Thank You’ by the Boyz!” and then . . .

The song startled you, excited you, overwhelmed you. You couldn’t recognize the various elements of it, the doo-wop, new jack swing, the soul.

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