Frederick Joseph—poet, philanthropist, and author of The Black Friend: On Being a Better White Person—makes his solo fiction debut with contemporary YA novel This Thing of Ours. Arriving back at predominately white Braxton Academy for senior year following a career-ending injury, basketball star Ossie Brown feels like “just another Black kid” from south Yonkers, ghosted by his friends and dumped by his girlfriend. Seeking a new outlet, Ossie joins a creative writing program led by passionate Black educator Ms. Hunt—until Ms. Hunt is fired following accusations of using “reverse racism” to promote a “woke agenda.” With his blossoming friendships and creative passions jeopardized, Ossie must choose whether to fight back or do nothing. In a conversation with PW, Joseph spoke about grappling with mortality and how his upbringing and philanthropy work informed his first fiction outing.

Why did you have Ossie pursue writing after he could no longer play basketball?

I was looking at the hyper exposure of young men and boys to athletes as someone to look up to and dream of becoming themselves, professionally or otherwise. What does that look like when that can no longer happen? How do you navigate looking at other things that you might be passionate about or other skills and talents you might have as other pathways to success and expression?

Oftentimes in our society the utility or usefulness of Black boys and girls is taught through the lens of, “What can you provide for society in a physical sense? How can you entertain? Can you throw a football?” I wanted to show Ms. Hunt challenging it in real time within the text. His grandmother does this as well; she says, “My baby’s more than just that damn ball and hoop!”

What did you hope to convey to readers through Grandma Alice’s counsel and her relationship with Ossie?

This is something I haven’t shared with many people yet, but one of the final things my grandmother said to me before she passed away was, “This thing of ours is about living. I want you to go forward, and I want you to live a really big and beautiful life.” Grandma Alice is very much a parallel of my grandmother; she was a writer, and she instilled in me a love for not only books, but life.

Part of Ossie’s character arc involves navigating the unintended consequences of well-meaning actions. Why was it important for you to highlight this aspect of activism?

We’re all trying our best, right? I can’t even imagine being a young person right now, especially in this era of navigating what it means to try your best and clamor for your own humanity, your own identity, while also trying to navigate the whirlwinds of social media. I wanted to lean into what it looks like to stumble, but to also redeem. I think forgiveness is such an important thing that we don’t talk about, and it takes such character and guts to be open to that. I won’t give anything away, but Naima—who is my personal favorite character in the book—exudes such courage. I think her act of hearing Ossie out as someone who was trying for her and who didn’t stick the landing in the ways he would have wanted, is the impetus of forgiveness and change.

Was it always your intention to include a romance in this novel?

It was. I have multiple sclerosis, and I also have heart disease, so I’m always wrestling with mortality, both in my everyday life and on the page. In terms of telling a story, I don’t know if I’m going to get to do this thing again. So I wanted to tap into a lot of things I love: activism, romance, the grittiness of where I’m from, and my hope of a brighter future for our young people, empowered by themselves.

Was there anything about the development of This Thing of Ours that surprised or challenged you compared to your previous publishing efforts?

I don’t think I’ve ever worked on anything that I love more than this book. When you get to not only create a world, but a world that’s rooted in your own upbringing, it challenges you to consider how honest you’re going to be about what you went through and what you saw. And, at the same time, you have to use that honesty to also paint a picture of joy. Ossie is the only one of his classmates who grew up in an impoverished neighborhood, just like I did, in the projects in New York City. And there was so much love and joy there alongside the challenging times. How do I capture that sometimes we had to worry about the lights staying on but, God, if that wasn’t the best time of my life.

You do a lot of philanthropy work with young people. How did these experiences inform the way you crafted the modern teenage characters throughout the novel?

I get the opportunity to be around young people constantly, not just visiting schools for my books, but I do a lot of community work with young, marginalized people, trying to provide opportunities and resources for them as writers and thinkers and sometimes even survivalists. It gives me the chance to listen to them. I tried to capture on the page the way young people are talking now, the things they’re interested in, the ways they’re dressing, what music they’re listening to.

As someone who was once young, the thing that I didn’t realize I was always wanting was someone to just hear me. That’s all young people want, right? To be heard, to be seen. If I do anything well in this life, it’s letting people know that I’m listening, I’m here.

How did you synthesize the topic of book banning into This Thing of Ours?

I wrote this book years ago, hoping that we wouldn’t be in this moment still. It breaks my heart. My first book, The Black Friend: On Being a Better White Person, is largely banned or being challenged around the country. So I was thinking about it from that lens, about the systematic erasure of literature and stories and narratives, but also the importance of books for me when I was a young person. I name certain banned books within This Thing of Ours, because I wanted to speak about it in a meta way. I wanted to talk about books that I read by James Baldwin, Octavia Butler, and Toni Morrison, and what those books ended up doing for me, how they made me feel, how they allowed me to feel seen. What would it look like today if I had to deal with someone saying, “You can’t read this,” and snatching it out of my hand? I would be a wholly different person had I not read Beloved by Toni Morrison. The right book at the right time can change who you are. That’s how powerful and important books are.

What are some ways young people can oppose book banning?

It’s so important that young people understand how much power they have. They have a voice, and they have all these tools to get involved. I wanted to demonstrate how that could work in This Thing of Ours. As adults, we always say, “You have the power,” but I think it’s important that we don’t just tell them, we show them.

I also wanted to show how sometimes things might not work out, and how we can course correct. I’m someone with a decently sizeable platform on social media, and I have messed up countless times trying to get things right, and that’s okay, because I’m learning and growing, and I want young people to understand that it’s also okay for them to stumble a bit on the road to progress. It’s about how you get up from said stumble.

What are you working on next?

I have a YA novel coming out from Viking called Everything’s Not Lost, which centers the story of two teenage girls navigating bipolar disorder. I also have another YA novel I’m working on; I’m going to focus on YA for a while because I feel as though it’s the most engaged that I’ve seen people with my work. Novels have a way of bringing people in and allowing them to ruminate and muse on what’s being said.

This Thing of Ours by Frederick Joseph. Candlewick, $18.99 May 6 ISBN 978-1-5362-3346-9