Back In the Day Pt. II [1.2]

Sliding a black and white striped shirt in her backpack, she looked in the mirror and took pride in the number of sales she would make that day. Foot Locker kept her occupied with easy regular wins: clock in, make sales, clean up, close out – done. It was that kind of quick task completion that built confidence through the undiagnosed ADD she was sure she had. Startled by the honk outside, she’d snap out of it, rush to the kitchen to salye Granma and Manmi, then slam the door behind her as Manmi shouted, “Yon jou y’ap kite’w oui!” After 4 years of making her way to Latin Academy through the Boston cold, one friend from her high school clique finally got a car their junior year and gave the crew a ride each morning. Thank God!

2006 Joane had a lot on her mind, firing off 152 thoughts per minute. Low-key wrestling to “lay aside the weight and sin that so easily ensnares" (Hebrews 12:1, NKJV), she would clown, laugh, smile, and work – just trying to keep things light and stay focused. Stuck in metacognition, she’d analyze her many thought layers, wondering if there was something abnormal; or was this just the regular internal processings of any other inner-city Black teen girl? Was it just Tuesday, or was it trauma? Whatever it was, it was just as everyday and covert as the fight for joy, peace, focus, and purity. Her faith in God helped her quiet the noise, snap out of the daze, and work past the mental mess to get these grades, make memories with friends, shine at work, and create at church. 

Imani Youth Ministry was  e v e r y t h i n g – the space where she learned to read and meditate on the Word for herself, where she discovered her quasi-alto-soprano voice and how to harmonize, and where stepping brought her to the edges of pride and competitiveness while maintaining a pure heart. She acted, she danced, she was in community – a community of peers, youth leaders, elders, and younger children who looked up to Imani, and it was great. It was there that adolescent friendships would crystallize into adult ones.

Sandwiched between two brothers and having no sisters, Joane’s first real bestie was Ishnane. But a cousin two years older, super focused, and with stricter parents, only meant occasional visits to Northeastern's African American Institute to catch up quickly in between Ishnane's college workload. Joane understood though. She'd been used to it for years. The shift in the relationship happened when they both went off to separate Boston exam schools in the fall of 2001 – Ishnane at the most rigorous of the three. Joane, always rooting for her, knew to keep things high-level, never distracting her cousin with the details. Besides, she'd continue those touchpoints in the few, yet reliable, moments at church when Ish would be around.

By that time, Joane had established a tight sisterhood with Joanne and Marsha. Hanging after school was automatic, unless Marsha was headed to her faithful bi-weekly hair appointment to maintain the lay, bounce, and luster of each strand. Marsha and Joane would meet at the lockers then ride the 28, texting Joanne which exact bus to hop on as a cluster of them pulled up to O’Bryant High, so the trio would be complete. Marsha and Joanne were cousins. Between after school shenanigans, youth ministries, Sunday service, and their residential proximity, “Big” Joane and “Little” Joanne, as the church fam would call them, spent practically every day together. Not to mention Joanne's knack for staying connected, and connecting folks across friend groups. She’s the type to bring an outside friend to an intimate family function, while you're like "ummm, I guess so-and-so is here now with her feet on my couch" (secret eye roll). But you can’t ever contest because Joanne never needs permission to spread the love, or force you to do the same. So, when she brought Jessica into church one day at the end of rehearsal, Joane figured she was good people. 

"So, that's your cousin, you said? On your mom's side?.. Cool," Joane whispered to Joanne, as she angled herself to glance slightly at Jessica. Jessica had glossy café au lait brown eyes and a snaggle tooth smile that seemed to radiate her joy. She was cute. Over the next few months, this outsider would seamlessly become an addition to the youth group, and the more Joane got to know her, the more she was intrigued. Jessica was silly and super social, with a childlike love-for-life kind of spirit. In the early 2000s, it was dancehall, 106 and Park music video count-downs, jersey dresses and Timberland heels, and whole songs embedded into custom MySpace backgrounds. You had to be able to dance and dress. You needed to know both parts of the R&B-Rap duet. And your MySpace top 5 said everything about you. So who was this girl?! – cheerleading, doing the latest reggae moves, knowing all the words for every scene of Love and Basketball, and could still recite Psalm 23 and sing 5 Chant D'esperance songs with arms wide open and tears soaking her face? First of all, what Haitian church girl does cheerleading?! 

Yes, Jessica was cool. That was clear. 

Best of all though, Jessica was down-to-earth and funny. And I rocked with that, so I knew we’d make good friends. Joanne had this one right.

“Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony.”

— Colossians 3:14 (NLT)