'I hated bullies': Columbia boxer steps into ring with faith, family at his back

COLUMBIA — Boxing is a brutal sport; a legalized assault. But there's a majestic quality to it when done correctly.

Historian Stanley Crouch said it best in "Unforgivable Blackness," the Ken Burns documentary about Jack Johnson, the first Black Heavyweight Champion boxer: "What a boxer ideally wants to do in the ring is turn the opponent into an assistant in his own ass-whipping."

He further observed that the skill of getting people to go in different directions to throw them off balance is "the same kind of things that magicians do."

Columbia's Elijah "The Showman" Seawright, 21, seems to possess the magical qualities needed as a pugilist. 

Living up to his nickname, Seawright's latest bout in June 2023 at Jamil Temple had him walking out to the M'Baku chant from "Black Panther" with his sisters dancing along his path.

After winning the contest, he grabbed the microphone, thanked the fans for showing up, thanked God and then immediately drove to Atlanta for an all-night skate party — like a "Roll Bounce" skate party.

Local News

Columbia businessman's Holocaust survival story used to educate

• Zoe Nicholson znicholson@free-times.com

Seawright's unbothered. A man of faith, a smile made for future endorsements and training in a family business with stepfather Kevin Brown, whom he calls "Pops," you wonder what would get him involved in the profession of assault.

"I hated bullies," Seawright said, while sitting in Battle Boxing on Shop Road, where he trains. "I was never the biggest kid, coolest kid, or swaggiest kid; I always had to defend myself. I asked Pops to help me learn how to defend myself. And we hung up a bag in the backyard on fence poles."

"I'll never forget this: I was in the seventh grade, there was a kid that was always picking on me. Said something crazy about my mom," Seawright continued. "I'm like, 'Yo, you don't talk about my mom' and I built up the courage to hit him on the back of the head and run. I realized I liked this feeling, so I turned back."

The teachers stopped the dispute, but it was the first time Seawright realized, after learning the fundamentals, it was something he wanted to do.

Now with a record of 9-0, Seawright is positioning himself to reach new heights. 

He has 115,000 followers on Instagram and 898,000 followers on TikTok; he's spotlight ready.

When asked about his feelings on legacy and the pressures that may be put on him, Seawright appeared unbothered. He has an end game that most fighters may not have. There isn't a romanticized ideal of boxing until you can't anymore.

"I won't be boxing in my thirties," Seawright admitted. "I'll be done 27-28, cause I'd like to think after getting punched in the head a lot."

When he's 28 years old, undefeated record of at least 20 wins, what's next?

"Right now I'm studying for youth ministry, getting my degree. And I do want to be a pastor," Seawright said. "I'll never stop spreading His name, no matter what I'm doing."

The fundamentals 

Though Seawright is poised to reach national heights in his boxing career, it all started with an injury and an online meet-cute. 

Seawright learned the fundamentals from Kevin Brown, affectionately known as "Pops" by Seawright and his siblings. Brown doesn't run his place like stereotypical boxing gyms. You walk in and see kids and women of all ages and levels — an inviting space for anyone wanting to learn.

Brown's sports origins didn't begin with a punching bag, but rather the putting green. As a teenager, he won Tampa Junior Golf in 1984 as a top-ranked amateur golfer. An avid basketball player, an on-court injury led him to the gloves.

Needing a place to work out after his basketball injury, Brown walked into his first boxing gym in Tampa, Florida. He has been involved in the sport ever since. Years later, working as a contractor in Greenville, South Carolina, he met his future wife.

"We met online. We got married three weeks later. Fell in love right away," Brown said. "She brought me up to meet the family, and me and (Seawright) played Wii all day. He was 11."

At the end of the weekend visit with the family, Seawright made a comment to his mom that changed everything.

"Elijah's like 'Mom, I want Kevin to be my Dad!' I looked at her and I was like, 'How you gonna take me home after something like that?'" Brown recalled. "I said, 'let's get married.'"

That was ten years ago.

Safe in His (and mom's) hands

People believe the permission lies with the fathers to allow their sons and daughters to participate in sports. It's the mothers.

Seawright's mom, Kashima Brown, is abundant positive energy matched with no nonsense.

She responded forwardly when asked if she had any reservations about being her son getting into a sport where he gets punched in the face.

"For one, my son doesn't get hit. Two, I know that he's safe. Three, he's with his dad. And four, it's part of the sport," Kashima said. "And if you get caught, then that's on you. Keep your guard up."

Kashima is the spiritual anchor and family historian of the bunch. She talked about her great grandparents, Fredrick and Mattie Jones, owning seven acres as second-generation freed African Americans. Their parents were first-generation freedmen.

Concert and Music News

'This is how you shape the culture': Charleston’s hottest rapper on tour

• Kyle Petersen

She also talked about her father, Marion Jacob James, a professional baseball player for the San Francisco Giants. She's aware that greatness is part of the bloodline, and she knows Elijah is a part of that, too.

"Elijah was a class clown. He had to make everybody laugh, always the showstopper," Kashima said. "That's why I came up with the name 'The Showman.'"

Her faith was also an anchor for the family and the boxing gym. After Kevin Brown found a space, he wanted to try and open a boxing gym; but met with a dilemma. The rent was $3,000, but that's all the money they had to their name.

"Kashima, against my will, wrote the landlord a $3,000 check. That's literally all the money I had in the bank," Brown said. "What am I gonna do? Landlord said you have 50 days before you have to start paying rent. I was really upset, but she said, 'Calm down, pray about it. God's gonna find a way.'"

"About two weeks later I was talking to an old Black man at our church name Mr. Stack. And we were talking boxing and he says, 'I saw Muhammad Ali box at Madison Square Garden when I was in the Navy.' He's like, 'I love boxing.' Kashima told me to tell him what we're doing."

Brown was hesitant to talk about the gym. But something miraculous happened after he spoke about their business endeavors.

He told Mr. Stack he didn't have money for a punching bag or a ring, but the Browns were trusting in God to "make a way." 

"He then pulls out a checkbook and wrote a check for $45,000. I told him, 'I can't pay you back,'" Kevin recalled, choking up. 

Mr. Stack wasn't going to ask for it back, but made Kevin promise one thing: "Please don't run it as a hardcore, cussin', crazy pot-smoking gym. Run it as a Godly place and treat people with love and respect. You do that, I'll never ask for my money back."

Brown has kept that promise. 

The people in the gym seem more family-like than just a membership. 

"Everyone in the gym is here to confirm their self-respect, to find the best version of themselves," said Battle Boxing member Marko Gelsani. "It's inspiring to witness Elijah pursue his career, because he's really figured that out at a young age what dedication and community it takes to manifest your intentions. I think we all have so much respect for his family for that example."

For Seawright and his family, the magic isn't what happens inside the ring, but everything outside it. There's no promise of what the future beholds, but one thing is for sure: Whatever Elijah Seawright does, it's because he wants to do it — a legacy worth fighting for.