I grew up in Highland Park, which is historically black neighborhood here in South Carolina is right off their road. But more specifically, I grew up in the circle, we call it the circle, it was a Cul-de-sac. And there are I think seven homes, and at the center of the circle was my grandmother’s home. The Geysers and I grew up there. And to this day, the folks that live in those houses have been there for over 60 years now. No one else has lived in the circle. My grandparents are the only couple who have both passed. And so then I moved in. And when I moved out, my sister moved in, we refuse to break this cycle. And the stories of it are just so rich and resonant. The women who grew up there, I call them the daughters of the circle. My mom and her sisters and the other daughters that grew up there are still very connected. They’re texting on a thread that I somehow got added to a few years ago. I think I’m a grown up now. They added me to the circle thread but the stories that come out of there are just you know… they’re so rich. And what I’ve learned and as I’ve gotten older is that it’s unique. I didn’t realize that this wasn’t people’s experience of their neighbors—that they see them as family. My children call the other women and men from the circle, like my grandparents friends, Grandma Chandler and Grandpa Mason. There’s just so many stories of how they all came together.  

One in particular that I remember is Mr. Anderson, who had a garden. Most of the people on the circle are educators. He biked to and from work like 20-something miles every day. I think he was almost seven feet tall, a black man, riding his bike up to Fairfield County, from Richland County. I think it’s important for us to tell the stories of these families are how they were connected in this group of like, seven couples who became best friends and raised their children together.  

We weren’t allowed to leave the circle. When I was growing up, we had to stay in the circle. And if we did leave, there’s like a big hill down into a neighborhood they call it Death Hill. There’s this old man who didn’t want you on his grass, and his house was kind of spooky looking. So, like, if we did sneak out of the circle and go ride our bikes down that hill, we would pedal really fast by his house, because he would grab you and take you inside and just… all these stories. But this is not true, it’s something somebody made up.  

Lately, I think I’m the last man standing. Now there are two more men who are alive in a circle and one of them is really ill. I can see that he won’t be with us much longer. I think it has been very eye opening for me, that we took these stories for granted as children because we were just privileged to have this space that a lot of people don’t have. It’s a beautiful experience that I got to have.