“My dad used to work for this YMCA,” the 19-year-old explains.
A chunk of Isaiah’s childhood happened inside the walls of the YMCA.
“I would come here occasionally and get schooled for a little bit,” he says, pointing to the basketball court.
He did his best to fit.
“I was never the athletic type,” he admits.
The reality was that he didn’t fit. There was that one room. Upstairs. Always empty. There was nothing there really, nothing but an old, donated piano.
Isaiah asked his dad if he could play the piano, instead of sports, and when he struck his first note, his world exploded, in color.
“C is blue. D is a lighter blue. E is red not as red as E flat,” he explains.
When Isaiah played a note, he saw a color. He learned it was Synesthesia, a blending of the senses. To him, it was simple. It was what he’d been waiting for.
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