“Give me the mic.” I tell the man sitting at the head of the table.
He eagerly hands it to me.
I could have projected my voice across a large room as best I could or stood behind the podium while hiding my body.
Yeah, I wasn’t feelin that. I wanted them to see all of me.
Earlier that morning, I’m getting dressed and Facetimed Spex, “what should I wear to this? I want to be taken seriously.”
He asked, “what do you WANT to wear.?”
Looking in the mirror I’m totally feeling myself. The look is best described as business casual sex kitten.
Yes, this is me.
As a girl from a religious family, the freedom to claim space contradicted the message drilled into me: you are not allowed.
Staring at my reflection, I’m transported to a memory. Two 15 years olds, Martin and I riding the MTA bus all over Los Angeles, jumping on and off to take pictures of things that spoke to our sensibilities, walking into an establishment that catered to the wealthy because we were entitled to be there.
When you claim space every room is your room.
Much like the mic, the pen is a weapon of power. Writing this book means sharing my room in more ways than one. This room houses imagination. It’s where my agency and creativity live. Where I feed my want; a place to be in love with learning all of myself.
“IN SOUTH CENTRAL WE KILL VAMPIRES,” is an expression of my wanting and I can’t wait to share my room with you.
G E T I N T O U C H