On the radio, his voice is smooth and slow. He pauses for breath, and when he speaks again there is a quiet rhythm to his words, unexpected from a man often viewed as the strictest embodiment of our administration.

In the recording studio, Logic Amen has exchanged his trademark walkie-talkie for a microphone. He has lost his no-nonsense attitude, so distinctive of his purposeful strides down the Garfield hallways. Instead he has an easy, casual air. He adjusts his headset and sits back in his black office chair, waiting for the clock to strike 4:30, the time which signals the beginning of his five-minute segment.

“It’s just in my blood to be an entertainer,” Logic explains. “A lot of my background, my upbringing, comes from trying to get attention from other people,” he adds with a laugh.

In addition to his brief weekly radio show, Logic Ahmed also leads a thirty-minute radio commentary on KBCS on the first Friday of every month, on which he discusses the role of hip-hop in society.

“I draw upon my experiences here [at Garfield]. A lot of the issues that happen at school are relevant to hip-hop; kids in school, the styles they wear, the trends, the way they think — it all ties into hip-hop music,” he explains. “Education is definitely a part of social commentary. We’re talking about prayer in schools, we’re talking about kids that are disadvantaged as opposed to kids that are in AP classes. All the issues I work with in the social fabric of the school are pretty much up for grabs when it comes to commentaries and the radio show.”

As students passing Mr. Ahmed in the hallway or summoned out of class by him, we don’t see him as a radio personality, or a spoken word poet, or an aspiring rap artist. He is little more than another branch of the Administration, distinguished only by his young face, his fur coats, and his alleged tattoos. But what we see on the outside, Logic explains, is a one-dimensional image that shows only a small facet of his varied persona.

“A lot of times people just think that I’m some kind of security guard, just walking the hallways, and I don’t have any personality,” he tells me. “But then when they know I have a degree from the University of Washington in English and that I’ve been to Africa twice, after they’ve heard my commentaries or read my blogs, it opens people up and lets people see me for who I am: multidimensional. Sometimes I feel like people marginalize me, they set me in these parameters, in this little box, without even getting to know me and I think that the radio show allows people to open up and see me for who I am.”

Logic is also an aspiring actor who has auditioned for everything from reality shows to BET, and worked for both Disney and the illustrious Bill Nye the Science Guy. He has released two CDs, Free Saba and Atlantis: Water for the Soul. He describes his music as being a “mix between Seattle’s own Kanye West and Common,” and is always happy to burn copies for interested students.

Logic was born in Cleveland Ohio, and grew up in Cincinnati, where he spent his time playing baseball and cultivating his natural talents for writing and performing. He moved to Kent at the age of 12, attending first Kent Junior High and then Issaquah High School. He switched to O’Dea during his sophomore year, where he remained until his parents’ divorce forced him to transfer to Ingraham for his senior year. Throughout high school, he spent his time writing, performing, making poetry, and rapping.

Logic urges the student body to suspend passing judgment on other people based on what they see on the outside, and explains that bettering yourself requires helping other people first. “Good deeds towards other people promote healing, and it helps other people be better people,” he tells me. “Don’t shortchange people. You don’t know what a person’s background is or what they’re capable of until you talk to them. Love people, love yourself first, and it will all exchange over to loving other people.”