Dimari’s Cadence bios through the years:
- I came here as Dimari Jordan, grew to be known as Dimartini, and will probably leave sophomore year as Dim-Dim. (2016)
- Dimari Jordan is officially a meme; AKA, he can no longer be taken seriously. (2017)
- Dimari Jordan looks disgusting — nipples protruding — in his blue shirt before Congress. Very very disrespectful. (2018)
Seven Questions: Past, Present, Future
What is your first creative memory?
My first creative memory would have to be drawing and creating stories about the Power Rangers, which I was absolutely obsessed with as a child. I basically would just come up with similar ideas to what I watched, but occasionally I’d creating something somewhat original.
What are your Desert(ed) Island Five favorite books—you, a deserted island, just five books to read—and why?
My signed copy of ASFA-CW’s Cadence 2016-2017 (simply because I’d at least have some memories from my junior year). Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince because it’s a classic, like it’s just a goshdarn classic for any writer born in the 2000s decade; nay I say, 21st Century. Gone by Michael Grant because it is a story that often deals with themes of abandonment and isolation and how a group of kids band together to create some sense of order (while others admittedly try to create chaos), so if I’m going to lose my mind on this island, then I’d rather not feel lonely. Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson simply because it is a book that I really want to read and I’m almost positively that it’s a great story due to both my faith in Sanderson’s writing and a recommendation from a friend of mine who absolutely loved this book and talking about this book. The Taming of the Shrew by the legend himself Willy Shakes, because it’s honestly a classic piece of playwriting literature and I would have just enough familiarity to act it out, even while only on this island.
If you could trade places, Freaky Friday style, with any well-known creative person, who would it be and why?
Hands down, I am trading lives with Justin Bieber. He’s talented, rich, and attractive. My life would be easy-breezy from that point on, but only if I gained his talent and abilities.
What is your favorite ASFA-CW memory?
I loved presenting a poem in front of the whole school for ASFA’s Founders Day creative celebration and presentation. I got to present one of my favorite poems and it just felt great to do so in front of most of my peers.
What’s the hardest thing you had to learn to be successful at ASFA?
Tomorrow can always be better and someone’s best day is not their everyday. Simply put, I can’t be so obsessed with perfection that I can’t recover from a bad day or week or month because to be honest, life really can get better and I can always improve on myself. Also, I shouldn’t compare myself to someone just because they are having a wonderful day, either receiving an award or getting published or presenting before the British Queen Elizabeth the Second herself. Why? Because they could be going through hell and while I may think that I’d be okay with experiencing hell for a year to achieve what someone else has; I can only think that because I don’t have to.
What advice do you have for future ASFA-CW students?
Don’t settle, don’t conform, and don’t let anything (except maybe the truth of the matter) hold you back from achieving whatever you want, even if the thing that is holding you back is ASFA itself.
What are your post-ASFA plans?
Go to college for a neuroscience major, eventually (with time) get my doctorate, continue writing as a side-hustle, learn a few languages, get back into fitness, and survive the nuclear winter.
An Excerpt from Cadence 2018
King of Beasts
He is the center of the savanna, of the females, of the attention. They revolve around his sunlight-colored skin. His blonde fur shines white like Mount Elbrus of the Caucasus mountain range; he has free reign on all fields, covering every inch of soil with his never-setting empire. His Aryan mane waves against the air like an open flame. He believes that his god wants to spread his pride from one coast to the other, manifest destiny of the king feline.
He is now only the center of his lion’s pit, where people like me stare at him and talk of his glory days as the king of the beasts, laughing. As a tanned native hand throws food his way, I wonder if he thinks back to when naked Africans were only stupid prey in his ice-blue eyes. Does he think back to when he was proud enough to believe that melanin-made creatures like me were not enlightened enough to see truth in the darkness of their continent, much less rule over their vast land?
Now I, with naked black skin, have set him in a cage and forbid him to prowl. Not in subjugation, but as protection from his violent desire to become apex, to shitholes into his golden savannas, where he can roam into anyone’s land without consequence.