Dear Black Boy,
Letters from a young African American Male.
The young boy, bursting with energy, runs over to sit below an emerald tower of branches adorned with shiny objects and hundreds of small warm bulbs. The light emanates across the room as the sweet smell of sap lingers and the friendly sound of joyful conversation, reminiscent of restaurant chatter, seeps in.
Moments later, the boy is joined by about fifteen other people, all just as eager as the boy, at the excitement to come. The resemblance of the group is uncanny; their playful kinship and sense of humour complementary.
Each person is holding a package aptly wrapped in paper adorned in winter flourishes and designs. Prior to the event, each relative has pulled the name of another at random. Their task is to pick the perfect gift for that person. As each individual unveils the gift and giver of their package, the room is immediately brimming with laughter and mirth.
When the young boy finally gets his chance to partake, he cautiously removes the paper from the small mysterious package. His eyes are beaming and a grin stretches from cheek to cheek as he pulls out a bracelet engraved with his name, Tadean Page. “It’s from mom!” he exclaims, and the room erupts in delight.