Middle school was, for the most part, terrible. Awkward, shy, nervous, like many pre-teens I had very few people who I felt I could lean on for companionship.
But when I met Ladji in homeroom in 6th grade, it got a lot easier. He too was also kinda awkward, kinda shy, but really smart, sweet, hilarious...he liked video games, skateboards, watching movies...all things that we shared for years.
In class we'd compete over Mr. Cohen's word puzzles, after school we'd trade notes over which of the AFI's 100 greatest movies we'd checked off the list (he'd always seen more, and knew more about all of them than I did...the guy was a movie genius.) For years it was super easy, super fun, but also deep, and trusting, and incredibly important to me.
High school, our friendship only grew. We started goin to parties together, chilled out after school in MapleCrest park...more video games over Cluck-U delivery. We shared our ambitions with each other, pushed each other to do better, and leaned on one another during hard times. Soon Ladji wasn't just talkin about movies, he got into NYU film school. He wasn't just cracking jokes in class, he was doing standup in NYC. It was inspiring to be around him.
Ladji's descent into his illness was slow and steady, and the relationship became less easy, but no less deep, no less important to me. I could tell he was having a hard time piecing things together, staying grounded in the present. He suffered. I felt helpless, as I'm sure many of his friends did, watching him slide away from us.
The last time we hung out, it was over a big bowl of ramen in New York City. We both ordered every damn thing on the menu, we stayed for hours, we talked about video games, skateboarding, watching movies...in those moments he'd come back to the present, clear eyed, full of that sharp wit and generous spirit that had won me over when I was 12 years old.
I'm so grateful to his friends. Those who were close to him in the early years and those who stayed in touch, as well as any of them could, until he left us. I'm so deeply grateful to Allima for allowing me to be so close to her son, for inviting me to visit him in Florida during some of the worst of it, and for being a friend to me as well. I'm so sorry for your loss Allima. He's not suffering anymore.
Whenever I think about Ladji, I'll always remember that nervous smile in 6th grade homeroom, the same smile beaming at me over noodles, and all of the wisdom, humor, and kindness that was behind it.