Punching the Air

Amal Shahid, a Black 16-year-old with a passion for art and poetry, stands trial for allegedly assaulting a White teenager, Jeremy Mathis, who remains in a coma. Despite his insistence on self-defense and a lack of hard evidence against him, the courtroom fixates on Amal’s race, the skateboard he left at the scene of the crime, and his history of “anger.” His lawyer, Clyde, and his former art teacher, Ms. Rinaldi—both of whom are White—vouch for his character, but their support feels superficial at best, as Amal doesn’t believe that either of them truly sees or understands him. As the trial unfolds, Amal reflects on his identity, his upbringing, and the racial biases stacked against him. When the jury finds him guilty, he’s crushed but vows not to let the system break his spirit.

As Amal is led out of the courtroom in handcuffs, he mostly thinks about his family. He’s processed into the system and transported to a juvenile facility, an experience he likens to his enslaved Black ancestors traveling through the infamously brutal Middle Passage on their way to the Americas. Even so, he refuses to go silently. Rapping on the prison bus, Amal asserts his voice, holding onto the hope that who he truly is inside won’t be subdued or erased.

When Amal arrives at the juvenile detention center, he’s targeted by Stanford, a Black officer who lets him fall while stepping off the bus and whispers slurs in his ear. The facility disturbingly resembles a school, but less familiar and warm. Amal keeps his head down, already used to being misjudged. Teachers had written him off long before his arrest, seeing his Blackness as a kind of warning sign.

The superintendent, Cheryl-Ann Buford, gives Amal a choice: spend his days in his cell or attend the prison’s education program. Amal chooses school, though it only reminds him of what he’s lost—his former fine arts high school in East Hills, his friends, and his future. During “free time,” he draws, feeling like it’s the only way he can express himself. But one afternoon, Kadon, another inmate, snatches the drawing away. When Officer Beale grabs Kadon, Amal notices a tattoo on Beale’s forearm of a Black baby with a noose around its neck, and he’s so disgusted that he tries to storm out. But four officers, including Beale, tackle him, teaching him that no form of self-expression is safe in this place.

Amal begins to feel the emotional weight of isolation during one of his first Visitor Days. Umi and Clyde promise to fight for his release, but their visits only make him nostalgic for his former life. He grows withdrawn and stops attending his classes, watching life pass through the window in his cell door. But after spotting a teacher, Imani Dawson, teaching a poetry class in the prison’s dayroom, Amal asks Cheryl-Ann Buford if he can join. However, the superintendent informs him that poetry is an elective, a privilege he’ll have to earn by regularly attending his mandatory classes.

When Amal unexpectedly receives a letter from Zenobia, his longtime crush, something within him awakens. Her belief in his innocence inspires Amal to begin writing and rapping more regularly, reconnecting with his voice. He eventually forms a bond with Kadon over their shared love for music and creative expression, but their visibility draws unwanted attention from White inmates who later jump Amal in the shower line. He notices how segregated and tense the facility is, especially in contrast to the diverse environment he encountered in his East Hills school.

Amal tries to keep a low profile, lying to Cheryl-Ann Buford about who attacked him and throwing himself into art and writing. He thinks often of his time at East Hills High School for the Arts, reminding himself that he has always been judged and misunderstood, even in creative spaces. He also recalls the night of the fight with Jeremy Mathis: how increasing gentrification had drawn invisible boundaries in his home neighborhood, and how being in the wrong place at the wrong time—and being Black—ultimately sealed his fate. While the other Black boys involved took plea deals, Amal stood trial.

Eventually, Amal is befriended by a group of inmates, Kadon’s friends Amir, Smoke, and Rah. Their solidarity is a comfort, but it’s also yet another predetermined box Amal feels he has been placed inside of. When he’s finally allowed into Imani’s poetry class, he initially challenges her, wary of her authority. She prompts him to write about his “mistakes and misgivings,” which frustrates him, and he leaves class early. Confined to his cell, he reflects once more on that fateful night with Jeremy Mathis and what he could’ve done differently. With no paper or pencil, he draws imaginary lines on the wall, trying to reproduce Imani’s prompt and separate his guilt from his regret.

Here and there, Amal feels glimmers of hope. Zenobia continues to write, and her letters offer encouragement. Clyde tells him that Jeremy Mathis is steadily improving and might wake up soon—if he tells the truth, Amal could be released. Umi urges him to remain strong, and he tries to stay grounded through books, art, and conversation. Kadon reminds him that survival is a daily practice, and Amal starts to understand juvie as a kind of “lost-and-found.” One day, after stepping in to protect Kadon during a fight in the dayroom, Amal is beaten and thrown back into isolation. Without access to his art materials, he uses his own mind as a canvas. But when he’s released, he sketches a Black baby inside of a box—though still confined, this baby isn’t dead like the one in Beale’s tattoo.

During one of Imani’s classes, she introduces the inmates to a special guest, Dr. Kwesi Bennu, a wrongfully incarcerated inmate-turned-activist whose story resonates deeply with Amal. Through poetry and sharing their lived experiences, Dr. Bennu helps the boys find solidarity with one another. In one writing exercise, Amal admits to throwing the first punch the night he was arrested and listens as others confess their own regrets. Dr. Bennu and Imani also walk the inmates through the loopholes of the Thirteenth Amendment, confirming what Amal already knows firsthand: prison is a legal continuation of slavery.

One night, Amal draws a large butterfly on his cell wall along with the words “I threw the first punch,” recalling how quickly the fight escalated, the racial slur uttered by the White boys that truly started it all, and how the police never gave him a chance to explain what actually happened. When Beale discovers the drawings the next morning, he throws Amal into solitary confinement. But within the isolation of “the box,” Amal finds a strange comfort. He imagines that the butterfly he drew on his cell wall has come to life and fluttered into solitary, and he speaks to it as if it were alive. The butterfly multiplies, and out of the swarm, Amal imagines seeing his father, Baba.

When Amal sees Kadon for the first time after being beat up by White inmates, he finds his friend brutalized beyond recognition. No one will tell Amal what happened, but he suspects certain prison guards may be responsible. He channels his pain into art, drawing Zenobia as an angel and writing her a love letter. But when Imani breaks the news that she will no longer be able to teach at the prison, Amal is left reeling, unsure how to move forward without one of the only adults who has ever understood him. Still, Imani leaves Amal with a gift: a box of paints, meant to paint over a mural in the Visiting Room. She tells him it’s his responsibility now, and time to paint his truth. He brings in Kadon, Smoke, Amir, and Rah to help, affectionately naming them his “Four Corners.” Under Officer Stanford’s supervision, they paint larger-than-life versions of themselves as angels with wings. When the mural is revealed on Visitors Day, the entire unit is in awe. Kadon calls Amal “Young Basquiat,” and Amal is exceptionally proud of their work.

When Umi calls Amal to inform him that Jeremy Mathis has woken up from his coma, Amal knows that everything depends on what Jeremy says next. Soon afterward, Amal learns that his mural has been painted over in white. Though he is devastated, Kadon hugs him and reminds him of his talent and strength as an artist. A little later, Uncle Rashon—the closest figure Amal has to a father, outside of his Baba—visits Amal for the first time, bringing books by James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, and Carter G. Woodson. He tells Amal that the mind is always free, even in prison. One day, Umi phones again with big news: she’s fired Clyde and hired a new attorney, Tarana Hudson. Tarana says that Jeremy wants to talk, and that she believes Amal is “good.”

As Amal returns to his cell one afternoon to find Officer Stanford leaving it and a new watercolor set waiting on his desk, he realizes that Stanford has quietly been restocking his art supplies for some time now. Amal paints to cope with his nerves about Jeremy’s impending statement, channeling the butterflies in his own stomach into his art. He creates unique versions of Guernica, The Persistence of Memory, and the Mona Lisa, sealing them in an envelope for Imani. This is his truth—what he hopes she’ll carry out into the world on his behalf.