It was like a moment from a movie. There we were, a group of about a hundred, sprawled in a ragged circle. If a camera were to pan around, it would show a group of slightly disheveled looking youth, who somehow conquered their vanity enough to bring their ratted old clothing on a retreat to Estes Park. The faces that would appear on the screen would be a rare mix of golden, brown, black, and white. But, what would be most notable to the viewer would not be shown on the screen, but heard; the crowd was collectively holding its breath so as to not break the perfect silence.
Sitting slightly outside the circle was a middle-aged African American Man named Aswad Allen, nicknamed As by his DSP kids, watching the scene. He was holding his chin in a reflective sort of slant, wearing a tender smile on his face, and training his gaze toward the center of the circle.
Where his gaze fell, stood a young black man, holding a stick in the air, and with the stick, holding the silence. Finally, the man began to speak.
“I too tried to run away from the Diverse Scholars Program,” he said. “I tried to run away from love.” Charles jutted out his chin, as if that small motion could dry up the well
of tears that had already been primed by the previous speeches.
“When I came here as a freshman, I wanted to make a change,” he continued. “A few months before I arrived at CU, an African American man was jumped on campus in a racist crime. My focus was to change the feeling of division here. So when I arrived on campus, I joined everything I could—I was involved in the Cultural Event Board, the Black Student Alliance, the Presidents Leadership Class, and the Diverse Scholars Program at Leeds. It was hard to balance everything, and I didn’t spend much time in DSP. But, As was always there; whenever I came back, he welcomed me and helped me get through.”
With a glace at Aswad, Charles continued, “Then, in the summer of my sophomore year, I got a call from a man named Charles Johnson, asking me to serve as Student Group Funding Board Chair. And around the same time, things started to get bad,” he said with a pain filled chuckle. Charles paused for a moment, closing his eyes.
He opened his eyes and continued, “See, my family ran into some financial…trouble, and that really threw me off track. My family is my foundation; I was sending money home that I needed, I was almost evicted, and I was so distracted by hunger that I could not focus in class. At the time, I didn’t have the wisdom to listen to the advice that As gave me. I kept running from the love that DSP had to offer.”
“At the end of my sophomore year, I pledged to my fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha Inc. and was surrounded by men that had been in similar, or worse, situations and still succeeded and that had reached a level of happiness in themselves as men that I was seeking after. My God, it was ridiculous. I think that was the first thing that helped me come back to DSP.”
“By my junior year, I was a tri-exec of the University of Colorado Student Union and was handling 36.8 billion dollars. Meanwhile, my family was still in trouble. That year, the DSP office really became my refuge. I must have been working fifty or sixty hours a week for UCSU and was working three jobs. I remember As would always ask me, ‘How are you doing?’ Even though I was not directly involved, the community was always there as an unconditional presence, and that was very powerful.”
“That year was rough because I was stuck serving my fellow students while struggling myself. I needed to be refocused. But, As was always there, asking me, ‘What are your goals?’ and reminding me that graduation was the task that would free me for what I wanted to do.”
“If it weren’t for As, I would not be here. When I was in the darkest place in my life, people would advise me to just quit, because I was only going to fail anyway. Why waist my money? As was the one who told me that I could do it, but that I had to learn that success doesn’t mean that you didn’t need help. You know, freshman year I nicknamed myself Atlas, ‘cause I was a punk, and ‘cause I could hold the world on my shoulders,” Charles scoffed.
“But no one can do that. I would not be here if it weren’t for my God, and for my DSP family. DSP was always a resource for me, but I didn’t make it my heart until my fourth year.”
“But I made it,” he said, losing the fight to tears, and not realizing that the rest of the circle was already in tears. “Don’t run from love, don’t run from this family.”
With that, Charles slowly placed the speaking stick on the ground, still sharing tears with the rest of the group. And as he walked out of the center, a young woman looked back and saw that As was crying too.
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