I don’t remember if it was seventh or eighth grade when I first met Tysean Williams.It doesn’t matter though, because the boy who I never talked to until that year will forever be the impact I needed to have in my life. The reason I was able to pick myself up when I could have just fallen. This boy I barely knew will always be the reason for my sanity and sanctuary. He will always remain in my mind as the boy who gave me a reason to live and enjoy life. Thank you.Tysean was like any average middle school boy. His less than averagely small body and bright smile could’ve fooled anyone that he was the perfect little kid. He wore these big square glasses and always wore the same jacket and cargo combo and looked to never pose a threat to anyone. Me especially, but I couldn’t really be bothered by him when he first moved to my high school. I was too into causing trouble and doing homework to focus on him.

Again, I don’t actually remember what year of middle school he appeared in Wheatland-Chili, all I know is it didn’t take long for us to become friends once we first met. He wasn’t like the usual friends I hung out with back then. I was the 5 ft 6 in. over 150 pound black girl who hung out with the bad kids, but never actually got in trouble. I listened to Alternative bands and played three sports throughout the year and laughed along at the kids who were different. I wouldn’t have called myself a bully, but I wasn’t exactly nice either. Tysean Williams was this Naruto and any anime loving kid. He preferred the old versions of Star Trek and listened to Heavy Metal. He hated any type of rap music because it, “just didn’t suit his personality” and loved to draw and play video games. You can probably see why I avoided talking to him for so long. Middle School was void of any contact between us. Freshman year was when I officially met him. It began when I found out that we both shared a love for vintage Chinese Martial Arts movies. We would talk nonstop about our love for everything from the language to the culture to the food. My mother always said that’s all it takes anyway. It just takes one similarity between people to create mutual understanding and sprout a friendship. That’s what Tysean was to me: A Friend. He was the first person to ever know about my love for things like Martial Arts and any Asian culture. He would ask me questions like how I fell into this love? Who introduced Martial Arts movies to me? He even took the time to introduce me things I never heard of that I later learned to love. Music, food, books, movies, he was the first person to hear something real about me and instead of calling it stupid and saying that I wasn’t allowed to appreciate it, he welcomed the idea and wanted to understand. That’s all we ever want right? To be understood and appreciated and that’s what I got from him and gave him. It was always a give and take relationship between us and I loved that about him. I wasn’t just someone he could use for something, he knew I wasn’t stupid and that I knew what people around me were doing to me. It’s like he saw through my mask and saw me as who I was. I had never experienced that until then.

Sophomore year, Tysean and I were in the same Health class and that’s when we became closer.We were both apart of the Masterminds Club. It was pretty much Jeopardy Junior where we get to play against other schools and make friends while getting beat constantly. I may have hung out with the wrong crowd back then, but that never meant that I didn’t care about school. I always worked my hardest in school and generally loved to learn. Tysean just happened to feel the same about learning and that’s how we became closer. I had always appreciated to see another black kid like me stay focused on our studies instead of doing stupid things and getting in trouble all the time like some of the expectations set for the black kids in our grade. Again, we were breaking a norm and that brought us closer. Sure, he was definitely smarter than me, but we helped each other in math and I always helped him write his English papers, the one subject I was always doing better than him in. I had never had another student that I talked to that shared the struggle it was to be called an “Oreo” before I met him. I had grown up in a majority White and backwoods school all my life. I had taught myself, by then, to try and act as white as possible to fit in with the group of people who liked me and grew up with me then. It’s not that I wasn’t okay with the black kids in my class, it’s just that I never really thought they saw me as one of them. It was sad to say, but I wasn’t able to connect to them in any way, good or bad, and I was picked on for it. From both sides, black and white, I never truly felt like I fit in until I met him. Tysean gave me at least one person to compare and contrast with on a civil level. He never posed any grudge or dislike towards me and I liked the feeling. It was assuring to me that I fit in with someone. I wasn’t completely alone in this school.

Tysean walked home the night of November 6th, 2013 from his church service with his grandma. He was a god-fearing boy and that’s what his grandmother taught him to be. His body still wasn’t the biggest yet. We were only fifteen and most of our bodies had yet to matured yet. He was still taller than me though. I remember texting him that night because I couldn’t make it to the Masterminds match earlier that day. I had basketball practice to attend. It may have been the beginning of the season and our first game was a little less than a month away but my coach didn’t care about some brainiac group I joined, I had to be at practice and I had to be there to work. So as I immersed myself in the scent of the sweetest of stenches, I wasn’t aware that a bitter sweet reality was close to being revealed in my life.

I remember what he wore that day to school. A plain navy polo, probably one he used to wear at his old magnet school, a pair of khaki cargo pants, and his clunky and chunky black shoes. Something he only wore for Mastermind matches is what they shot him in. I remember texting him about the match and laughing about if he ever washed that outfit because we only had one match gathering per month and he always kept it so clean and kempt that he probably never touched it until the day of matches. He laughed and expressed his nervousness for a math test we had the next day.

“Kill me”, he said. “I’m going to die” he sent and I agreed. I knew he probably would’ve passed if he were ever able to take it. “I’m an angel now. I’ll see you in heaven”, again I laughed. Only Tysean would joke like that. “Well, can you tell my Great Grandpa I said, ‘Hi Pops!’” I thought he was joking, and I like to think he probably was at the moment. I never got a text back after that. I assumed he went to sleep after that. I didn’t know he was fighting for his life then. I didn’t know I wouldn’t be able to see my friend tomorrow. I thought he was just sleeping, so I went to sleep and went to bed peacefully.

There was a knock on his door that night. One that I’d picture as harsh. Pearl, his grandma hadn’t been expecting anyone, but they lived in a nice enough part of the neighborhood that she sometimes forgot to lock the door if she were home. She tried to make it to the door fast enough but it was too late once two men had broken in and pointed a gun to Pearl’s head. I wasn’t there, but I had always pictured the way Tysean came in the room. He may have been small, but his presence was always known when he was in the room. The way he carried himself for such a small boy was one of a great and mighty man. I can only picture him running in to save the women who raised him. Who wouldn’t? Alike Tysean, my grandmother is my everything. I’d do anything for her no matter what, when, and where. Who wouldn’t do anything for the people who raised and loved you from the beginning? That’s exactly what Tysean did: Anything. He even took a bullet to make sure she would be safe.

I wasn’t there, but I can always hear the sound of the gun as it shot three times and pierced him in the chest two of times.I wasn’t there, but when I think about it hard enough, I can hear Ms.Pearl screaming for her little Tysean to wake up and crying harder when he stopped responding. I wasn’t there, but it’s haunting to think about when it’s someone who meant so much to you. All this while I slept peacefully in my home knowing that I was safe along with my family.

I didn’t find out about Tysean until the next day. Our school had a half day and I was gleefully ready to go home early and sleep before basketball practice. I hadn’t expected to see his picture on the news as soon as I walked into the kitchen. I couldn’t believe it. I had just started to know him and I knew there was tons of new things to learn. There was tons I wanted him to know about me. It couldn’t have happened to him. He was the nicest of kids. I couldn’t stop screaming and crying that I didn’t notice my grandma holding me as I froze. I had just started to know him. He wasn’t supposed to die so soon. That’s not how things work. We were only 15, we weren’t supposed to die yet, not like this. That was the first time I had a panic attack. I couldn’t breath knowing that he was gone. I couldn’t see knowing that I didn’t get to see him in his last couple of hours because of basketball practice. I couldn’t stop crying knowing I wasn’t going to be able to talk out my feelings to him and have him understand me. All of this plus the weight of our last conversation sent me into a frenzy and I eventually blacked out and fainted. I had never felt like that before. Not even when close family passed, I had never cried so hard and screamed at the top of my lungs to have them back. But Tysean was different. He wasn’t just a friend to me, he gave me something that I thought I couldn’t have: An identity. I hadn’t had one until I met him and once I had it, he was gone. I never even got to thank him. This is what I imagine heart break feels like. Where your head, heart, and body refuse to move and close all together until you are told that it isn’t real. That everything you’re seeing is a dream and you’ll wake up and everything will be fine. Tysean’s death, will forever be my first heartbreak.

Tysean wasn’t just a friend to me. Tysean is the true reason I’ve learned to embrace my real self. Tysean was unapologetically himself. He took pride in teaching himself Chinese. He took pride in his martial arts skills. He never once was offended by jokes or allowed anyone to bring him down because he knew who he was and he was always okay with himself. From his less than masculine walk to the way he expressed his words to his sense of humor, he never stopped being himself and bringing this sense of security and confidence when anyone was with him. I had always had a crisis identity from a young age. I never really knew who I was and even if I thought I was one thing, I could never be as confident with it as Tysean always was. All my life, I was told by people close to me that I wasn’t one thing, I was the other. Always being asked why I acted a certain way when I tried to emerge from my shell and was always quick to crawl back under the mask that wasn’t ever going to be me. But when Tysean died, something inside me changed. That could’ve been me. I could’ve been the one who had taken a bullet for someone I loved and I realized I wouldn’t have died being me. I would have passed knowing that I never escaped the expectations I thought I had to meet and died with no one knowing the real me. Something snapped for the better inside of me when this happened. I vowed to be more like Tysean that day. I would no longer hide behind a bleak, facade of a shadow and I would try to be the best person I could be for me and the people around me. Tysean was a beam of joy and spirit wherever he went and I wanted to be like that. If I would’ve died that night, I wanted to be remembered like he was; A Self- Made Hero.

November 6th, 2013. A day which lived in infamy in the small town of Wheatland. November 6th, 2013. A day which changed a little black girl into someone who has learned to admire herself as herself. November 6th, 2013. A day when a great and complex little boy gave his life to save a women he saw as worth it. November 6th 2013 was the day that my life changed without me knowing it. The next day, I made the conscious decision to take my stand and be who I wanted to work to be. I may fall sometimes, but I know that Tysean will always be by my side to pick me up and remind me who he turned me into. I was born to be myself and I will forever be thankful that I met him. Tysean Williams, my hero, my savior, I thank you. Thank you for teaching me that all heroes were never perfect, but they were themselves.