He worked as a research assistant at a consulting house for multinational corporations. He was the only black man in that company, a source of shame for him but a source of considerable pride for the company’s secretarial pool. Sometimes, over lunch, he would tell his colleague about all his wonderful organizing plans. They showed sympathy for his thought superficially, but the look in their eyes told him they were secretly disappointed. Only Ike, the gruff black security guard in the lobby, was willing to come right out and tell him he would be making a mistake. He thought his idea was some politics. Barry tried to explain his political views, the importance of mobilizing the poor and giving back to the community. But Ike disagreed with Barry’s thought and advised him of forgetting about that organizing business and do something that’s gonna make him some money. He didn’t pay Ike much attention at the time; he thought he sounded too much like his grandparents. Nevertheless, as the months passed, he felt the idea of becoming an organizer slipping away from him. The company promoted him to the position of financial writer. He had his own office, his own secretary, money in the bank. He remembered who it was that he had told himself he wanted to be and felt pangs of guilt or his lack of resolve. -P.140, August 31, 2021
