Page 47 of The Aries Alliance
Me:
I gave you everything you need with that video.
Scarlett:
Not everything. *pouty face emoji*
My watch alarm dinged, alerting me to a new email. I opened it since it was from the university president.
Warrick, I have an urgent matter to speak with you about in my office. Skip Fields
I checked my work watch. I’d have to leave in a couple of minutes, not to be late.
Me:
I hate to do this, but I need to meet with the president right now. Rain check on that video?
Scarlett:
Of course. Business first. *winking smiley face emoji*
I closed my app and leaned back in my chair, my legs wide. Scarlett delighted me and, surprisingly, helped me relieve stress in a job that often had me feeling as if I was the sellout she first thought I was. Our plan had to work. I couldn’t lose what we had.
I rose and walked to the stairwell, noting how few Black and Brown faces I saw on the way. When I met someone, whether a student or a staff member, they didn’t even look me in the eyes, something my granddad taught me to do when I met another person of color. We might not know each other by name, but we knew each other by experience.
Was it possible that parts of me really had sold out for the system? Had I been so anxious to fit into EFU’s toxic culture that I lost parts of me that centered people? Why did the leaders who oppressed Black and Brown bodies trust me so much and give me a seat at tables where no other Black man sat? Was I too good of an actor?
I was still pondering these questions when I climbed the four flights of stairs toward the president’s office and conference room. It was pristine and museum-like, showcasing our university’s most notable alumni. For the first time, I noticed that the only pictures of Black people were of athletes. We had award-winning Black engineers and laureates, yet none of them were displayed in the area.
After my conversations with Scarlett, I paid attention to little things like that. It was as if she switched on a social awareness switch in my brain and removed blinders from my eyes. No wonder the powers that be couldn’t stand her. If she shared insights like this with oppressed people, they might push against the system and ask a lot of questions people didn’t want to answer.
In that moment, I made up my mind to be more deliberate about uplifting people who didn’t have access to the rooms I was invited into. The mission had begun. I wasn’t going to let Scarlett or my mother down.
I skimmed the overly sterile reception area outside the president’s suite, until the receptionist, who sat behind a semi-circular desk, lifted her eyes. Her plastic smile creeped me out.
“President Fields will see you now.” The tall woman’s shrill voice cut through the air, making me wonder how people weren’t annoyed listening to her all day.
I followed her into the main conference room. She stood at the door with her hands linked over her stomach like a dutiful servant.
“That’s all, Becky.” President Fields shooed her away with his lean fingers.
Becky bowed slightly and closed the door behind her.
The president, who I called Skip, remained seated as I entered the room and walked toward him.
“Warrick, my main man. Thanks for meeting us on such short notice. Elbert and I have a couple of things we need to go over with you.” He pointed to the short, stocky man to his immediate left.
I eyed the chair across from Elbert Bryson, the president’s chief of staff, and moved toward it. My curiosity was piqued even more, since I expected more people to be in the meeting.
“How may I serve you today?” I asked the question in my best code-switching voice.
Skip’s eyes lit up before he rubbed his hands together like he was up to no good.
“It’s the Athletic department. As you may or may not know, my cousin, Will, is the assistant athletic director.” He paused as if he wanted me to say something.
I was well aware of Will’s presence and relationship with Skip since I was forced to push him through the system as a last-minute hire. Everything in me wanted to respond, “Yes, he’s there because of nepotism,” but I knew better than to show my hand like that. Instead of speaking, I placed my hands on the table and kept a neutral face, nodding for him to continue.
“Well . . .” His eyes darted to Elbert, whose quick squirm and downturned eyes I didn’t miss. “He’s gotten himself into a littletrouble that we need to ‘fix.’” He used air quotes to emphasize his point.
