Amob of spectators presses in, trying to see the tiny girl. Rap stars circle. The cameras roll. The crowd chants her name. ■ “Da-Sa-Neee!” ■ Her heart is racing. She looks up at the sky and extends her fingers, but cannot reach high enough to grasp the metal bar. A powerful man hoists her up by the waist.
In an instant, she is midair, pulling and twisting acrobatically as the audience gasps at the might of this 12-year-old girl.
“She’s a giantess,” the man had announced to the audience. “She’s tomorrow’s success, I’m telling you right now.”
Dasani blinks, looking out at the smiling faces. She cannot make sense of the serendipity that has brought her here to Harlem, on this sparkling July day, to make her debut as a member of an urban fitness group teamed up with Nike.
But there is her beaming mother, Chanel; her father, Supreme; and all seven siblings. They are cheering and clapping as well.
“I thought it was a dream — make believe — like this wasn’t happening,” she says. “You know, like in movies, people pinch themselves like this ain’t real.”
It was only two months earlier that Dasani stood at the bus stop as her mother wept in the rain. Summer was fast approaching, a season that, in this family, always brings change.
The markers of Dasani’s life — her first months in the care of Grandma Joanie, the day her family moved into their first real home, the loss of that home two years later, when they landed in the Auburn shelter — these all came in summertime.
There was no telling what this summer might bring. Dasani could no sooner predict landing a spot on the Harlem team than she could foretell the abrupt changes that still lay ahead.
Already, the court-mandated supervision of the family by child protection workers had run its course. Chanel’s nine-month trial period was suddenly over, leaving her custody secure, just as new problems came along.
School was winding down when the children learned that their only other refuge — Grandma Sherry’s rowhouse in East New York, Brooklyn — had gone into foreclosure. Sherry could end up homeless as well, at a time when New York’s shelter population had surpassed a historic 50,000.
As the days grew hotter, Dasani and her family remained stuck in the same miserable room at Auburn.
And yet summer, no matter how stifling, also carried a certain promise, the kind that comes of chance encounters on the street.
It is a muggy night in Harlem, but the children do not care. They savor any chance to visit. ■ This is the place where, a decade earlier, Chanel and Supreme fell in love. They have returned over the years, pulled by the Five Percent Nation, the movement spawned 50 years ago by a contemporary of Malcolm X who broke from the Nation of Islam.
Tonight, people swarm into the Harriet Tubman Learning Center on West 127th Street for the organization’s annual gathering, pushing past security guards and a vendor with pins that declare, “I ♥ being God.” Supreme mills about in the foyer, greeting old friends with tight hugs.
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