Suzelle and Brad have been pen pals for years. They wrote this exploration of imagination together.

Suzelle:  Imagination is human magic. It gives us the power to make mental pictures and feel feelings beyond the input of our senses. It helps us believe, remember, reason, fantasize and solve problems! Imagination misused fuels our fears, but more often it beckons us toward a better life.

I always thought I had a good imagination. I’m a writer, an artist, and a songwriter… But I never imagined I could have a rich, beautiful, loving friendship with somebody like Brad the Dad, a young incarcerated Black man who grew up on the streets in poverty, fear, and violence.

Brad the Dad:  Imagine a child born to a single mother addicted to crack cocaine and alcohol. She has utter disregard for this child; his basic needs are at war with the merciless enemy, crack, and only one desire can be fulfilled. The child loses every time…

There is no father. Often, there are no lights, heat, or hot water; no food or rules; no love, attention, or affection. There’s only crack smoke, empty beer cans, and strange men coming and going day and night. And if the child cries from hunger, he’s fed punches to the face to shut him up.

Imagine a child who wanted to be Superman; who dreamed of being a lawyer or policeman; who dreamed of his mother loving him and his daddy being home. Feel the bite of cold, hard steel around his tiny wrists; the loneliness, fear and sadness of being locked in jail for trying to protect and earn the love of a mother who cursed the day he was born. Honestly, would it surprise anyone if this child answered the call of self-preservation and took to the streets?

Now imagine the surprise of this child grown to adulthood, in a prison cell, watching TV as a crowd of black and white people march through the streets, professing “Black Lives Matter!” I thought it was some kind of a hoax. Frustrated and angry, I asked myself, “Who are these Black Lives everyone claims to matter…?”

Suzelle:  It was my congregation and me that Brad saw on the TV news.  We were marching to fight the dismissal of charges against the police officer who murdered Jay Anderson, Jr., a young black man from our neighborhood.

Brad wrote to me. He asked. “Does my black life matter? Does my son’s black life matter? Or is it just the black lives who are dead that matter?” His question hit my face like a dash of cold water. We began writing back and forth.

Brad the Dad: Throughout the 20 years I’ve been incarcerated, I’ve always imagined myself as something greater than the six-digit number the prison system assigned me. I HAD to imagine in order to survive. I’ve spent more than ten years in solitary confinement, with one stint lasting almost four years straight. Having a vivid imagination and hope is the ONLY way to survive the hole for such a duration. You must be able to live in your mind and work towards something greater for tomorrow. I imagined myself as the most loving and understanding father the world has ever seen, and the most supportive, loving, and loyal husband a wife could ask for. I imagined I was smart; a scholar even, so I studied and read a lot of books. I imagined myself as a Freedom Fighter. Despite the barriers the prison administration placed in front of me, I never ceased to imagine. To believe. To hope.

Suzelle:  I didn’t understand Brad at first. I thought he wanted help from me. I asked a committee of my congregation to assist, but they returned only fear and suspicion. But Brad had imagined something far more powerful than help: he imagined honest conversations, a sharing of laughs and lives, caring support for his son.  In a word, he imagined kinship.  And that is what we now have — Brad and me, my partner, Brad’s wife, his son, and Lynn and Marc — a wonderful couple from my former congregation who wrote to Brad when I could not. We are a circle of kin, companions on life’s path. We love each other; we listen and learn from each other.

Brad the Dad:  I never knew exactly how I would bring my imaginings to fruition, but I always believed I would.  Now I can proudly profess to you that I stand here today as a loving husband of an amazing wife, who has enriched my life beyond anything I could have ever imagined; a supportive father of a wonderful son and step daughter. I am a college scholar with a 3.8 grade point average, and I am a staunch defender of the freedoms and liberties of all people, regardless of age, race, gender identity, or sexual orientation. So much love is reciprocated between my great friends Suzelle and Lynn and me, and their partners, whose friendship and support has helped me turn my imagination into reality. We have all dared to hope, believe, and imagine something beyond the boxes of each of our cultural or social demographics. I encourage you to have the courage to do the same.

PHOTO BY NICOLE BASTER ON UNSPLASH