Harlem hits me hard in the face with its icy breath. It’s trying to knock the stupidity out of me. I knew better than to go online, but I did it anyway. My city isn’t happy with me. I don’t really have a direction in mind when I leave the house; I just need to put some distance between me and my cell phone, hence why I left it at home.

“Ayo! Ayo!” someone shouts as I walk down the block. I turn around and come face to face with Nate. He runs to catch up with me. We embrace, since this time he hasn’t just come from fighting three rounds with my uncle.

“Hi, Nate.”

“Where you headed?”

“Not sure,” I reply, wishing I had chosen a different direction. Nate is going to talk about See Us and me stepping out front. My uncle has an issue with that, and since I’ve been tripping lately, I’m not sure it’s a great idea either.

“I saw your mom this morning. There’s been no change, as you know, but she’s a fighter. She’ll make it out of this. In the meantime, we need to talk,” he says, leading us down the block and around the corner to Lenox Coffee Roasters.

He gets us a small table and orders two black teas, then begins to make his case right away. “We need to put a face to this. The other side is already out there telling the city their version of the story. Membership in See Us has risen by nearly twenty percent. The rallies are getting bigger, and we have the city’s attention. But that’s not enough. You need to get out there, just like your mom would. Every major outlet wants to speak with you. We can arrange it.”

I wrap my hands around the hot mug; it feels good. I wish I were swimming in it. That way it could warm me up all over.

“We need to use this moment to our advantage. Black folks need to be encouraged and white folks want to feel good. If you speak up, our people will be assured. And white folks will rally behind you and put pressure on the system to do right by your mother. Then they can go to bed thinking, Yay, I fixed racism.”

I suddenly picture a mini version of myself swimming inside the mug, swimming away from all the noise and the drama. Mini-Me swims like her life depends on it. She’s desperate to get to the other side of the mug.

Go, Mini-Me, go!

“Ayo, you need to send out a clear message, just like your mother would do.”

Nate becomes a distant white noise as I focus all of my attention on the surface of the tea. I blow softly on the tea, hoping the breeze will help her get to the other side.

C’mon, Mini-Me, you got this!