“Guess what.”
“What’s up?”
“I just got a DM from Aria Cartier at Voss Contemporary House. She wants to talk about my work.”
“Who?”
“Voss Contemporary House. It’s a gallery in Bronzeville—”
“Oh,” he cut in with a scoff of disinterest. “That art shit.”
Rolling my eyes, I felt my excitement deflate a little. “Yeah. That ‘art shit.’ This is big, Kodi. They don’t just DM everybody.”
“Well, that’s cool or whatever. But art don’t pay no bills, Rhythm. You better keep clockin’ in at that lil’ job. Don’t let nobody gas you up and have you quitting to go paint for free.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I didn’t say I was quitting.”
“Good. Anyway, hit me when you go to lunch.”
Before I could reply, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone for a second. “You don’t pay bills either, nigga,” I muttered.
I hadn’t expected a parade, but I expected him to be at least excited. He knew art was my true passion. He’d watched me paint in that dining room corner for years. So, it hurt in a way I wasn’t prepared for. It felt like he’d blown out my spark that fast.
I went back to the DM from Voss.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. My heart raced. Fear and hope ran wildly through my veins. I could hear Kodi’s dismissive voice in my head as I replied:Hi Aria. Thank you so much for reaching out. I’d love the chance to meet with you and talk about my work.
SINCERE BELLAMY
Tonight’s town hall meeting was in the multipurpose room in a church a block away from the development site. A long table with a cheap plastic skirt sat at the front with a microphone on a stand in the middle. Handwritten signs were taped on the walls that read: NO LUXURY, YES COMMUNITY! WE ARE NOT FOR SALE!
Me, Legend, Icon, and Saint slipped through the back doors while somebody at the mic was already talking. There were about fifty people in the room.
We stood in the back, listening.
A woman in her mid to late forties had the mic. “We’ve seen this before. They come in talking ‘investment’ and ‘revitalization,’ and next thing you know, rent is three times what it used to be and half the block is gone. I don’t care what they say about ‘affordable units.’ Affordable for who?”
People murmured and nodded in agreement.
This was why I’d wanted to be here, to hear what they were actually scared of.
Then a woman near the front turned her head and saw us. Then she started to whisper to the person sitting next to her.Soon, the whole room was turning around to see what the others were looking at. You could immediately feel the hate spread. I saw recognition click in a few faces.
The woman at the mic kept going, but her voice was angrier now. “We’re not against development. We’re against being pushed out. We’re against people with money making decisions without us, then acting like they’re doing us a favor!”
She stepped back and applause filled the room.
The moderator took the mic. “Next we’re gonna hear from Alderman Kai Richardson.”
Saint blew out a frustrated breath as Kai walked up with his politician smile on, wearing his crisp suit and pocket square. The room clapped louder for him.
He leaned into the mic, saying, “First of all, I want to thank everybody for coming out tonight. This is what community looks like. We are not going to let decisions get made about us without us ever again.”
As there was more applause, a couple people stood up to clap harder.
“I’ve been reviewing the plans for this proposed development on 83rd, Project 83. On paper, it looks good. But we’d be fools not to ask: at what cost? We are in the middle of a gentrification wave. You all see it. You see white people walking dogs on streets that used to be too ‘dangerous’ for you. You see your rent going up while your paycheck stays the same. And now we got a so-called ‘mixed-income’ building coming, backed by what?” He paused again as his eyes swept the crowd. “Backed by blood money!”
