Charlie’s Moment of Joy
We tend to believe that life changing moments don’t happen until they suddenly do. The decision to pursue a dream, the welcoming of new life into the world, the heaviness of the loss of a loved one. These moments aren’t real until they become irreversible.
I wonder. Is it the permanence of an event and its consequences that sparks the recognition that something special has occurred? Or is it that life changing moments don’t happen until we decide they have to happen?
The most beautiful thing in the world is the sight and sound of a young person experiencing wholehearted joy.
The first time I witnessed wholehearted joy was 2015. Ammo, Taesha, Ares, Geoffrey, Mastin, Rey, myself, and Charlie were playing Marco Polo late at night in our hotel pool (like the game tag except the person who is “it” has to keep their eyes closed). Earlier in the day we toured youth centers in Oakland, hoping to learn how we could create something equally special in San Francisco. Rey and I were the adults of the group. But in that pool, we were all kids.
Charlie was 20 years-old at the time. I remember surfacing from a beautifully executed underwater dodge maneuver. I remember the sounds of splashing and the echoing of our voices off the tiled walls. I remember seeing Charlie wipe the water from his face, eyes clenched shut, yelling into whatever direction he could yell into. “Maaaan y’all cheating!!!…MARCO!!!”.
I remember the moment Charlie opened his eyes and realized that the rest of us were all out of the water. His laugh. It wasn’t a nervous laugh, a fake laugh, or even an angry laugh. It was the laugh a baby makes after seeing a funny face for the first time.
That was the first time I saw a young person experience wholehearted joy.
The most devastating thing is the realization that for that child, teenager, or young adult, moments of joy might be rare.
Charlie was incarcerated in early 2018. He was extradited from California to a state thousands of miles away from home for an alleged crime that has yet to go to trial. It’s taken over a year for the court to set bail.
Charlie and I talk through unpredictable phone calls and letters. Unpredictable because the criminal justice system is designed to isolate.
Rey and I visited Charlie in June of 2018. The flight took over 4 hours and we were allowed to see him for a total of 20 minutes. We carried a conversation through a thick plexiglass-like wall smudged with old handprints. Our voices were hollowed as they traveled through the metal cord of the phone receivers in our hands.
And so, the last visual I have of Charlie is a memory of him in a bright orange jumpsuit. He’s sporting a fresh Mr. T-esque mohawk and his spirits are high. He’s smiling.
There has not been wholehearted joy in Charlie’s life since early 2018.
There has not been much wholehearted joy in Charlie’s life, period.
Charlie is a young man who, if placed in a suit and tie and were many skin shades lighter, would be be unendingly praised and traditionally successful. I don’t know all the details, but Charlie grew up mostly under the care of his mom and grandmother, protective factors in a world of trauma and instability. Charlie graduated high school despite all this. He’s had some ups. Lots of downs. By the time we met he had evolved a type of armor that most people choose to believe to be the natural skin of young black men; a skin that most choose to be afraid of.
I’ve known Charlie for five years now. Long enough to see another evolution happen. I’ve watched him become inspired by opportunities he was given to learn and practice social entrepreneurship. I’ve seen him develop a skill set in videography, journalism, and interviewing. I’ve seen him find the courage to stand up as an audience member at a pitch event and respectfully question business model assumptions while simultaneously shattering the conscious and subconscious biases in the room.
Charlie found a moment of joy while playing Marco Polo in a hotel pool in 2015. That moment led to many others. Over time, a young man who society expected to promote violence began spontaneously thinking of ways to reduce school bullying through social media.
Charlie was on his way to discovering his purpose at the age of 20 despite a life full of barriers. In his own words, the unlocking of creativity and fun and the unconditional attention and love that came in those experiences
“showed me my opinion matters (this was before jail), others matter, people you thought didn’t care, care. Although I was at a place where I thought doing good didn’t matter, it does, and it’s not too late to pursue your ideas, especially with others behind you. Places I was dying you helped revive. For that I’m always thankful.”
I remember seeing Charlie’s moment of wholehearted joy happen. I remember deciding then that something life changing had occurred.
*Charlie has given me permission to share his story with you. He wishes he could tell it to you himself.
*This post is a follow-up to The Answer to Healing Youth
