Roland Chee

“We were high school sweethearts. He came up to me in the hallway one day and I said: absolutely not. I was an honor student. He was smoking weed, running around, getting in trouble. My parents moved our family away from the inner city for a reason—and it was to get away from all that. But I knew his family. I knew where he’d come from. And also: sometimes I can see things. I’d pay attention. I’d watch him with his friends. And I could tell: this is not him. I knew he didn’t see himself in that space forever. And that’s been the most beautiful thing, of like, everything. Watching that transition. Seeing it all from the beginning: him figuring out that he was worthy of more. It took a while. There were times he messed up, and I won’t make excuses for that. There were lulls. We’d date other people for a while, but every time he’d come back hard. And not just like: ‘I’m sorry, babe. Please take me back.’ He’d put in more effort. He’d grow. And now he’s gotten to a place where he has a much better understanding of his existence. He’s a vegan. He meditates every day. And he’s very serious about it; he’s descriptive about the reasons he changed his life. A lot’s been thrown at him recently. Both of us work at underprivileged schools, which can be exhausting. But I’ve seen him stay up for twenty-four hours, go to work, then come home and still be present. He’s a nurturing father. He’s a protector. It wasn’t always in him. But it’s in him now. And not to toot my own horn, but I saw it. What I saw was this. Exactly this.”