PATCHYP

Steve Scher – A longtime journalist, broadcaster, writer, and podcaster. Seattle residents may remember his voice from Weekday, the morning program on KUOW, Seattle’s NPR affiliate.

In 2014, Steve and I participated in a trip through the Deep South, learning about and immersing ourselves in the history of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement. During the trip, Steve asked if he could briefly interview me for his “House of Podcasts.” At the time, I didn’t even know what a podcast was, but I obliged. We’re pictured walking through Montgomery, Alabama, during our conversation.

I’m thankful for the opportunity to have been on his show. From time to time, I think about where I might be today had I stayed on the reporting and journalism path. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and work with many journalists, and although my career ultimately took a different direction, that foundation still influences my work. Journalistic ethics, integrity, curiosity, and a responsibility to tell stories truthfully remain essential to my literature.

Rev. Dr. Bernard Lafayette – this individual had the greatest singular impact on me among the others on this wall. I could write an entire essay on his influence on me. A true American hero.

Dr. Lafayette is an unsung legend in the Civil Rights Movement. While it’s a shame he was not more publicly recognized for his contributions to the movement, he was still cherished and revered by those knowledgeable about the civil rights era.

Dr. Lafayette, a co-founder of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), played a pivotal role in the Nashville Sit-ins and participated in the Freedom Rides. He also laid the foundation for the voter registration campaign. That groundwork led to the 1965 marches (including Bloody Sunday) and ultimately to the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Before Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination in 1968, Dr. Lafayette was appointed as the national program director for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) and served as the national coordinator for the Poor People’s Campaign. He was a trusted confidant and aide to MLK, yet also made significant independent contributions as a change-maker.

For about two years, I had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Bernard. This photo was from our first interaction in 2014. I was so inspired and enthralled by his story that two of my classmates and I coordinated a week-long visit for him and his lovely wife, Kate, to continue that work in Seattle.

The time I spent with them was spent picking his brain. Dr. Lafayette gave me invaluable insights, especially around community organizing and being strategic and purposeful in my decisions. He shared his relationship with Dr. King and other leaders in the movement.

What deeply resonated with me was how little people discuss him relative to other notable figures in the movement, yet how significant and transformative his impact was, and is. Personally, I felt like I had been positively impacting the community, but because others position themselves in front of the cameras, they get the public recognition.

But speaking with Bernard and seeing how at ease he was with his legacy left a lasting impression on me. My focus shifted back to the community and to directly serving those who need support.

God made the call and requested one of his angels return… And Bernard Lafayette transitioned on March 5, 2026. I cherish the time spent with him, and though I have several photos with Doc, this one stands out because it was the first.

Stalley – One of the more underrated artists in hip hop, and a true wordsmith. What stands out to me is the precision of his craft. His use of literary devices, his flow and cadence, his production choices, and his ability to settle into a lyrical pocket and stay there. His command of alliteration and internal rhyme is especially sharp. [Listen to “Glass Garages] I’m a true student of hip hop, and I figure fellow enthusiasts already know exactly who this is.

The first time I heard Stalley was on a song called “Address.” His verse immediately caught my attention, especially the way he wrote about not becoming complacent, watching life change around you, and realizing how quickly a new experience can shift your entire perspective.

“Not complacent with the lifestyle… Feels good, but it’s hard to crack a smile when the ones you came up with not around. Roll a joint after picking through the pound/whole perception done change/funny how a 3-hour flight can make your life change.”

That resonated with me. I’ve had moments in my own life where entering a different room, taking a new opportunity, or simply being exposed to something outside of my normal changed how I saw everything. It doesn’t always take years. A conversation, a trip, a new environment… Just a few hours away can alter your perspective.

From Lincoln Way Nights and beyond, I became an avid listener of Stalley’s work. He came to the University of Washington in 2013, where I had the opportunity to meet him and have a brief conversation. Super chill guy. I’ve also exchanged pleasantries with him on social media, and at one point he encouraged me to stay rooted in community.

That message meant something to me because I’ve spent much of my own career trying to do exactly that. I’ve moved through different institutions, professional spaces, and creative pursuits, but I’ve always tried to make sure that growth doesn’t create distance between the communities I care about and me.

As our orbit expands, there’s something important about remembering the people and communities that helped shape us.

I deeply appreciate artists who take their craft seriously, evolve without losing themselves, and remain connected to where they came from. Stalley is that. Much respect.

Dr. Michael Eric Dyson – One of the first Black intellectuals whose work I came across in high school and was genuinely inspired by. I remember watching a series called Black in America, where Dr. Dyson was spotlighted alongside his brother, who is serving a life sentence in prison. I was blown away not only by his personal story, but by his academic journey and the contrast between the paths their lives had taken.

From there, I became aware of other academics and public intellectuals like Tavis Smiley, Marc Lamont Hill, and Cornel West. They opened up an intellectual world that I hadn’t really been exposed to before.

I’ve met MED on two occasions. The first was in 2015, when we happened to be on the same flight in Atlanta, leaving the 50th anniversary of the Selma Marches, and had a brief conversation in the terminal. He actually gave me his number.

We met a second time in 2019—which is when the picture with him was taken—when he visited Seattle University as the keynote speaker for Mission Day.

MED’s influence on me has been profound, similar to the other academics I mentioned. They made being smart cool. They made being eloquent and articulate cool. They showed me that intellectualism didn’t have to feel removed from culture, personality, or everyday life.

MED was also one of the first people I remember seeing code-switch to what felt like a drastic extent. He could move between academic language, cultural references, humor, hip hop, and everyday conversation without any of it feeling disconnected. That had a major influence on me. Some of my earliest writing probably read like a MED impersonation before I eventually found my own literary voice.

Scholars and academia have played a significant role in shaping my literature, especially the professors I encountered at the University of Washington. But MED’s influence started earlier. I came across him in high school at a time when I was still figuring out what intellectual curiosity could look like, and his work inspired me to challenge myself intellectually and take my own ideas more seriously.