pray for everyone. She would turn
to me and say, “Trevor, pray.” And
I’d pray. I loved doing it. My
grandmother had convinced me
that my prayers got answered. I felt
like I was helping people.
—There is something magical about
Soweto. Yes, it was a prison
designed by our oppressors, but it
also gave us a sense of self-
determination and control. Soweto
was ours. It had an aspirational
quality that you don’t find
elsewhere. In America the dream is
to make it out of the ghetto. In