All Boys Aren't Blue: Act 2

Part of that guilt forced me to overcompensate in certain areas of our relationship. I knew I lacked what you needed from me in other areas.

I take joy in knowing that I did my very best as your older brother, and that we now get to impart our experiences to the newest addition to our family.

According to the stories, my grandmother’s hair went gray when she was sixteen years old, which I always thought was cool. She was the baby of thirteen kids, yet stood as the matriarch to our entire family, even though her siblings were still alive and older than her.

When she wanted something done, it got done. And if she couldn’t get it done, she would assign one of her kids or grandkids to do it. She was always great at delegation.

Being a little different was my norm, but she never once wavered in making sure I was properly accommodated, just like the rest of her grandkids.

Whenever us cousins had discussions about who her favorite grandchild was—because there was one cousin who always got very sensitive about this—the conversation was mostly in jest with her in the room.

While other kids were out playing in their respective cliques, I spent my time in the library or doing homework or playing Jeopardy! on Nintendo.

While other kids were out playing in their respective cliques, I spent my time in the library or doing homework or playing Jeopardy! on Nintendo.

Although division of people through intelligence isn’t exclusive to the Black community, it has much different connotations when you know that white folks, regardless of where they fall in school, can achieve.

Knowing I was smart, my grandmother decided to make me her protégé.

I became her sidekick and her business partner, diving into a number of little ventures.

I enjoyed hanging with her and haggling with potential buyers, meeting new people, and being out of the house.

That mentality was purportedly held by the father of young Giovanni Melton...

I would also tell you to reclaim that campaign slogan and use it from a place of power.

Both our older sister, Tonya, and older brother, Gregory Jr., who we call G.G., primarily lived on their own. Because they were so much older, they only stayed with us during brief stints when they were in between places of their own.

All that history is gone now as gentrification has turned that land into a parking lot.

I think it was because my dad’s family came from such humble beginnings that he never wanted his children to have that same experience.

Unless the conditions mandated that we had to be in the hospital, folks in our family would request to be at home in their final days so they could be surrounded by family and loved ones.

“No person or corporation shall require any white female nurse to nurse in wards or rooms in hospitals, either public or private, in which negro men are placed.”

He was pretty patriarchal in his thinking, and being with my mother, who is a very independent woman, must’ve been a challenge for them both.

They both looked up stunned. Not mad at me, but so unused to ever having to clean up after themselves, they almost didn’t even notice they were adults. They were children being chastised in that moment.

I sat down beside him for a few minutes—extremely nervous and scared to see him so sick. In that moment, all the little arguments and head-butting we’d been having seemed so frivolous.

Even now, I’m very on edge with hugs I get from people I may just be getting to know. It’s definitely a barrier, a pathology I learned from him.

I get bigotry everywhere else. My father made sure I at least didn’t get it at home, by using the tools he had, the best he knew how.

No one would ever say anything derogatory, though.

Nanny scoffed a bit at the idea.

I was fearful of what people would think of seeing me with someone like you. I was already dealing with enough antagonism about my own sexuality.

My attraction to trans people and others represented in the letters across the LGBTQIAP+ acronym have led me to my identity as queer. A label that is most encompassing of all that I am and hope to be.

The stories were always about your escapades in dating and going to the club and whatever else you were doing.

I remember being scared, wondering if your plight would also be mine one day.

I can only remember one point of real contention I've ever had with you.

You were adamant that I wouldn't go into the haircare business.

My favorite moment at the new house was also one of the most important life lessons I ever learned and continue to practice until this day: how to take care of my elders. It’s something that I wished more of us learned as children—especially Black children, who will inevitably take on the responsibility as their parents and grandparents begin to age.

My mother would be out of commission for more than six months and my grandmother and her church friends took it upon themselves to care for her.

The saying you coined in jest so many years ago was now coming to fruition.