The common thread for Angela and me was that we both struggled to break the mold of the traditional religious restrictions our family put on us. I didn’t want to live mundane; go to school, marry right away, have babies, and perpetuate the perception that there was nothing to explore outside the walls of the sanctuary. I wanted to live, to travel and discover what else was out there. I didn’t want tradition; I wanted to paint the path I created. The one never toured. My first start was school. I would get my degree, secure my family and take off somewhere—anywhere. But I wouldn’t be held back by condemnation for wanting more.
Angela endeavored to break away from the same outmoded lifestyle, but her approach was more rebellious. She was a bright student, always having maintained at least a 3.0 grade point average. I always argued that she could do better if she applied herself and went beyond just getting by. However, Angela would always counter that I could work for my 3.8 average alone; her efforts would be made finding a millionaire to seduce. I never understood the long-term accomplishment in that, but admired her boldness and veracity.
I liked a bit of rock and roll; she lived for hip-hop. I appreciated understated beauty; Ang was the cleavage and camel-toe revealer. I studied to improve; she studied to pass. I liked art, appreciated variety; my cousin enjoyed attempting sensual art with her body. We girls had different agendas, but our goals were the same. We wanted to chart our own paths, ones very different from those our parents traveled.
The only thing that could have had Angela up and live at this hour was a man. Although I was enrolled at Princeton University and she was at Rutgers University, the New Brunswick campus, we both applied for the Working Toward the Stars program. It was a unique opportunity for participating universities in New Jersey. The program selected top performing students to take on non-paying jobs that put them in the room with top professionals. Our options were theater, music, engineering, baseball, football, basketball, opera, NASCAR, culinary arts and several more. Angela talked me into applying because she had the biggest crush on Stenton Rogers.
Stenton Rogers: NBA shooting guard for the Philadelphia 76’ers, from Newark, NJ, was the number two overall Draft Pick, three-time MVP Awardee, and four-time Champion. Oh, and his jersey was number seven. I knew things about this man that were of no consequence to me. I knew nothing about sports, much less basketball. I was simply happy to be spending much of the summer with my closest cousin.
Secretly, I had no idea what she wanted with a man like Stenton Rogers. He stayed in the headlines for his reckless behavior. Either fighting with paparazzi, or losing his cool on the courts, or taking nude pictures with models; Stenton Rogers was a topic at every dinner table in America at some point. Two years earlier, the news, blogs and all things Internet were buzzing with the leaked pictures of Stenton and an unknown woman doing things my untainted mind couldn’t conceive. It was the time in American culture when the world finally discovered how far down his tattoos reached.
Again, I didn’t follow basketball, but my father and every other man I knew were fanatics of the sport, and almost invariably during each man-talk exchange there would be mention of Stenton Rogers. Mainly, the discussion would be led by his dominance on the courts, but more often than not, his wild and lewd behavior with random women would be the subtopic.
And then there was the two minute clip of a sex tape that was released. Now, that one was stripped from every blogger’s site within two days of being leaked. Stenton was under fire by the league and almost let go. According to my dad, he was suspended for the remainder of the season behind that one. My dad also said if Stenton wasn’t the premiere player of not just the Philadelphia 76’ers, but also the league, he would have been fired without a second thought.
That incident, mixed with the bar fight he’d engaged in just the night before that video was leaked, had women everywhere in a lustful frenzy over Stenton Rogers. Fawning over him became vogue. I didn’t get it. What dignified woman would want a man whose body so many women across the world were acquainted with?