An American Summer

by Alex Kotlowitz

  Once Ashara went off to college, Aries tried to get in touch through Facebook, once writing by way of introduction “Hey, sexy,” but she didn’t respond. “I was blocking out everything Chicago, everything South Side, everything in the hood,” she told me.

  Ashara had aspirations to become a journalist and so began to write, working on an essay she called “Dear Black Man.” She wrote:

  Growing up on Chicago’s south side during the 90s, the inferiority of black women seemed ubiquitous. Almost every woman I knew was alone, left to raise children and take care of the meager tangibles she was able to have. It seemed that the men I saw only cared about getting high, making money and finding another woman to romance and leave hanging. I knew early on I didn’t want to be one of those women so I built a mental wall against you, but deep down I wanted a relationship with you so bad. I wanted to enter your circles, partake in the handshakes, and glean from you. I wanted your respect, because I had so much respect to give you, but instead because I was left to see you through the eyes of the masses, dangerous, violent, irresponsible and good for nothing.

  After graduating from college, Ashara interned at NPR’s Talk of the Nation and then settled in Philadelphia. At one point on a weekend visit to Chicago, she briefly ran into Aries, who told her, I’m so proud of you, you don’t understand. But what she hadn’t told Aries—or anyone, for that matter—is that the NPR experience had been debilitating. She was responsible for posting tweets and once used “they’re” instead of “their”; her supervisor chewed her out. Another time she admitted not knowing where the United Nations was located, and some colleagues responded in disbelief. She felt humiliated by the gaps in her education—and angry at how she was made to feel. And then, earlier this summer, her cousin, Kyle, had been shot and killed by a friend. Kyle, Ashara told me, went to jail for burglary when he was sixteen. “He was like that wannabe thug guy,” she told me. “He always wore baggy clothes, braids. He listened to Ludacris. I think it was like an identity crisis for him.” What particularly bothered Ashara was that Kyle grew up in Beverly, a majority-white neighborhood of bungalows on the city’s far South Side. “You’re this black man who doesn’t fit in, and you want to be all things that you think are black,” she told me. “I think he was trying to force it.”

  Ashara spun into a deep depression. It runs in her family, but Kyle’s death depleted her. She couldn’t get out of bed some mornings. One day, after getting out of the shower, she sat on the corner of her bed wrapped in a towel, unable to move, unable to get dressed. She thought she was dying. And then she learned that Aries had been arrested for murder.

  * * *

  —

  When Aries had graduated from high school, he got a job sorting mail at a postal center in Palatine, a suburb. He earned $16.04 an hour and helped raise his daughter, Amoni, who was now two. He just wanted to blend in, not stand out in any way. He was still sleepy-eyed, broad-shouldered, but not as skinny. He kept his hair short and braided, his hairline receding even though he was young. He still stuttered. He lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and after his twelve-hour shift at the postal center he would plop in a plush chair in his living room and watch the African cichlids in his 60-gallon aquarium. It soothed him. And often he fell asleep there, smiling, admiring their luminescence, as if they each had swallowed a light bulb, their flashy colors unlike anything outside.

  One day a friend asked Aries if he knew where he could get a pole—a gun—not for himself but for some boys in the friend’s neighborhood. As it happened, Aries’s older brother Sheldon, who had recently been released from prison, had just bought a Tec-9 semiautomatic handgun for $150 from a drug addict desperate for cash, and he was looking to turn a profit. So Aries told his brother about his friend, and Sheldon responded simply, All right, cool, we can do that.

  Sheldon asked a friend, Brandy, if she would drive them across town to the Trumbull Park Homes, one of the few remaining public housing complexes. It was Brandy’s birthday, and she and Sheldon planned to celebrate at the Cheesecake Factory after the transaction. When they got to the housing complex, Sheldon out of habit snapped the magazine into the Tec-9. They were, after all, in an unfamiliar neighborhood, and he knew intuitively that anything could go wrong. He borrowed a shirt from Aries’s friend and wrapped it around the gun so that he wouldn’t be seen walking in the open with it. He and Aries and their friend—Brandy remained in the car—marched single-file through the project’s wide courtyard, much of it caught on videotape by security cameras in the complex. On the videotape we see Sheldon approaching sixteen-year-old Joseph Brewer, who looks as if he has at least one friend with him. A conversation ensues. Aries and Sheldon would later testify that it got heated, that they wanted $450 for the gun and that Brewer didn’t want to pay that price. They believed Brewer had intended to rob them all along. They later testified that Brewer pulled a gun from his waistband and began shooting. Sheldon got hit in the hand and he fired back. Aries and Sheldon ran back to their car, where Brandy was waiting for them, but before they could pull out of the parking lot they were surrounded by squad cars. Aries would be charged with first-degree murder; under Illinois law, you can be charged with murder even if you didn’t pull the trigger.

  * * *

  —

  In her Philadelphia apartment where we met, Ashara got up to stretch. She wandered by a window and, with her back to me, said that when she learned of Aries’s arrest she thought to herself, A murder? A sixteen-year-old boy? This is fucked up. Ashara had moved here after Aries’s arrest, after she was prescribed Celexa for her depression, after she began attending church. She works as an assistant teacher in a kindergarten/first-grade classroom and as an assistant basketball coach in middle school. She also has taken up boxing, and when she goes on her three-mile training runs listens to what had been TJ’s favorite song, “Ambition,” by the rap artist Wale, a mournful tune about conflicted aspirations.

  She told me that when Aries got arrested she had neither the strength nor the interest to return to Chicago and visit him in the county jail, a place that she came to detest when she visited Kyle. “I was trying to shield myself from any more sadness,” she explained. But before Aries’s trial she spoke with him briefly by phone, and then began a correspondence.

  Dear Aries,

  Man the news really messed with my head. I know you are strong and you stay positive but this is fucked up!

  …That day we talked on the phone really lifted my spirits. You may think I’m helping you, but you are way for me. Your strength inspires me to keep working hard. There are so many days I want to quit work and give up on these kids but because of you I won’t…On a silly note do not put Sanders on the end of my name. Boy we will be fighting like when we was 5. LOL!…Sadly it did take you going to jail for us to have a conversation. The truth is I never trusted you and was always scared you were going to insult me in some way. I know I was different because I chose to remove myself from the hood and acted like I was better than what was around me. But there were so many times I wanted to talk to you and TJ. Also, TJ is who I had a crush on. I liked him since 2nd grade. LOL. But I trust you now whether you on the outside working on your business and such or on the inside staying strong I am your friend and I’ll never act like a stranger. Bet on that. Take care my friend.

  And so began a series of letters between Ashara and her childhood friend Aries, she looking to make sense of what her friend had done, Aries looking to make sense of how he had gotten to this place. Ashara found the letters from Aries refreshingly honest and open, unlike any conversation she’d had before with Aries, or with any man for that matter. At the time she was living with two roommates in a larger apartment, and she would take his missives, written in pencil on a yellow legal pad, close the door to her bedroom, and sit on the floor and read them. Over and over. “Wow, Aries talks about who he is,” she recalled. “He’s struggling just like me. It was like a load had
been lifted.”

  Ms. Ashara,

  ☺ As you can see I started off my letter with a happy face because that’s the current emotion I’m feeling right now. Just to receive a letter is the most precious diamond in the world, definitely coming from you!! That’s because believe it or not for some odd reason you have been on my mind. Now you asked how am I? Well lets say that I’m a stronger/better Aries than I was before. The old Aries paid so much unnecessary attention to things I didn’t have any control over that it became so depressing. Like the girl I was about to marry walked away…SO while I was going through this episode I began to conform to what was around me which was negative and I began to give up. Ashara I was thinking no one loved me and all type of crazy nonsense and that made me became such a stoic person…You know the crazy part of this whole ordeal is that I really got caught up in someone’s mess, but can’t give any details before the case is over…keep rooting and praying for me Punk. But enough about me cause I’m ok. Ashara I read your letter several times, but before I say what I want to say I’m going to share something I learned since I been here and that is us as people when we have difficulty on our journey of life we tend to focus on what we need at the moment that we forget what we already have…Hey maybe one day you can invite me out to Philly for dinner…

  Aries,

  It’s crazy to read your letter and see how much you have matured. We really are not kids anymore. I’m so proud of you…Today has been hard. I have been very emotional.

  Ashara went on to tell Aries about a new job teaching social justice to sixth-grade students, explaining how the other day her students had opened up about what they contend with day to day. One boy watched someone get shot, a girl’s god-brother was shot and killed, still another lost his father to prison. She wrote that two students broke out crying. “I realize that I am up against a lot,” Ashara wrote. “Those kids don’t even know how amazing they are…So right now I am very tired and emotional. Your letter was a gift.” She then for the first time revealed to Aries that she battled depression: “My health is MUCH better now and the biggest change is me. I have grown so much wiser and mature now. So it’s interesting we both in our own ways have been on journeys that we would not have chose but have shaped us into much better people.” Ashara continued,

  You said you want to know more about me. Well I’m still loud. I can’t lie if someone offered me a million dollars to. I’m so transparent, so honest. I guess it’s a blessing. My favorite person on earth is my mother…We talk every day at least twice a day. She talks about you pretty often and feels the same way I do…What’s up with the mobile spa? Why does that interest you? On another note, I’m not sending you a picture cuz you not about to be looking at it thinking that my future wife [drawing of a laughing emoji]. You my homie. Can we leave it at that? But seriously what happened to the girl you wanted to marry? I didn’t even know you were planning to get married.

  Ashara,

  I hope this letter finds you rested with your feet up after a strenuous day at work. As for me I’m still standing strong and optimistic awaiting my trial. Ashara it’s still weird to talk to you, especially after I called you. When I hung up I was like wow!! I just talked to Ashara, but the odd thing is it felt comfortable, maybe because you are a familiar person or you have such a genuine spirit…One thing I can say you are very inquisitive, so Ashara make no limitation to the questions you want to ask…first thing first congratulations on your new job. Ashara by me having a kid and having conversations with Amoni made me realize that they do have real life issue in their own lil world. The things we go through trickle down to them…Now far as the mobile spa, its something I been wanting to do. The idea actually comes from being around my mother, aunts and other women. I know you guys love being catered to. So my idea is this. My team comes to your home and we offer massages, facials, pedi, mani, etc….I see you gave some thought about being my wifey lol…Mrs. Ashara Sanders do have a nice ring to it. [Drawing] But honestly I’m only looking for something that is platonic. Even though I want to be in love again one day because it felt so good…As far as [Amoni’s mom] goes, she was a real team player, my best friend, overall the love of my life. Long story short she couldn’t handle me being here and being lonely so she left and moved on. I have a suggestion far as dealing with your older students. I think you should continue giving them sessions where they can open and share with you the things that’s going on with them. Just remember everyone need an ear to listen…which comes to me wanting to tell you how much I greatly APPRECIATE you for taking the time out of your day to write me. Just to be blunt I didn’t think people gave a fuck what was going on with me, so when you told me you and your mom cared about whats going on with me, it made me feel so much better. It actually made me smile…I’m not going to bore you any longer…Get some rest. I’m pretty sure you had a long work week.

  Your Homie Aries

  Aries,

  I apologize for the delay in getting a letter out. My life has been crazy busy. My students are awful some days and I’m taking two college classes right now so I have been trying hard to keep up with everything…How are you doing? Any updates on a trial? My mom is very positive that you will be home soon and she says “Aries is not a criminal. I know that for sure!!!” Just know we really care. Talk to you soon!

  Ashara

  Hey Punk,

  Well I hope this letter reach its destination and bring a smile to your day…I’ve wanted to share something with you because I do see you as my “PERSON.” So I have this disease called neurofibromatosis and I’m very insecure about it, and to give you an understanding as to what it is, its fibromes on my nerves system and also they grow outside of my skin which makes me feel ugly, unattracted and undesirable…I’ve been wanting to ask you about your father. I never hear you talking about him. I do want a bond with you where we can share personal things with each other. If you’re comfortable of course. On the phone you asked do I think if TJ was still living would I think he would be supporting me? Of course he would!…Honest I really miss him. You know after that happened I didn’t come around for a long time…Look right I remember one time in 5th grade TJ booty ass lit a firecracker in the class and the teachers thought it was me and called my father and his grandfather so we would tell on each other but it didn’t work so of course we got suspended and put on punishment but the bad part of it was it was on my bday. Man I had fun times with him…

  Dear Aries,

  I have planned to write for quite some time but I became consumed with my own life that I didn’t take the time out to write a letter…I think I’m still in denial about this…It’s crazy that TJ’s gone, and it may seem like that doesn’t affect me, but it does. I’m hoping for the best for you and I am rooting for you to do well all the way in Philly.

  As I am sitting here worried about you maybe this time away has been life changing and meaningful. Has it?…I’m your homie even though you despised me as a child lol. It’s all good now, though. I know you didn’t know any better. Take care Aries.

  Ashara

  Ashara,

  What’s the deal Punk? I just hung up the phone your crazy self…I gotta admit that you are a cool ass person to talk to. You definitely keep me laughing. I wonder how it’s going to be when I get home and we kick it LOL…Ashara, you really have a good heart, not to get mushy or anything but I really want to thank you for taking [time] out of your busy day to deal with me, the lil things that you do for me I will always adore. It might seem simple to you but something lil as answering your phone means so much to me…Ashara I really appreciate that wholeheartly, definitely since I was so mean to you. LOL. Now what’s crazy about this whole situation is that I wonder if I never came to jail I wonder would we ever become friends? See some good did come out of this situation…In the event that I do gotta go down state you better send pics and keep writing, and I’m not going to stare at your pics
thinking that’s my future wife, but seriously I might flirt…I’m going to end here…, its just I gotta lot on my mind where I just need to sit back and relax a lil. So once again thank you for taking time out of your day for me…have a good day punk and stay positive…

  Until next time your friend Aries

  In these letters Ashara saw someone different. It wasn’t that Aries had changed, rather he had discovered who he really was. He seemed confident yet vulnerable, clearheaded yet searching. Before these letters Ashara had felt isolated, almost as if she was barely holding on, and with Aries’s surprised openness she found a portal back, through which she could crawl. Aries pushed her to face what she had so wanted to put behind her, and in this paradoxical moment, her childhood friend got arrested for murder and yet she felt closer to him, and to her past, than she ever had before.