It was a rainy November day in Connecticut. The cold droplets dug into Jason's skin as he walked back to his dorm from class. Evidence of last night's election euphoria was strewn across campus - excited streamers and signs smothered by the dull, grey rain. Last night was a historic night. Obama's election was a first for the country in many ways. First African American. First bi-racial. First to have an immigrant father from Kenya. Being an immigrant himself, Jason resonated with the new president. But there was something else about this man that occupied Jason's mind.
He heard it a few weeks ago on a CNN piece about Obama. He still remembers the sentence that accompanied the grainy video footage from the 70s: "Basketball is central to his self identity. It is where he found a place of comfort, a family, a mode of expression, a connection from his past to his future.". That sentence sent chills down Jason's spine and he played it back to himself again and again over the weeks.
"Basketball is central to my identity". It finally clicked for him.
Over the years, Jason has had more than his fair share of teenage angst and sophmore blues. Things weren't easy for him as he stepped out of his boyhood cocoon and into the unknown of manhood. Fear chased him into a corner, doubt sprang out of every shadow, jealousy trapped him, pride left him alone, anger pushed him to the ground. His was a life searching for expression, stumbling around, arms flailing... until they wrapped around that leathery basketball.
The basketball court was a refuge for Jason. It was a simpler version of that game called life for him to play in, for him to learn from. The shimmering net gave his confused brain focus and the pounding of the ball on the pavement gave his erratic heart a rhythm to march to. Jason was never great at the game, but it didn't matter, it was what made him who he is today.
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