For the first time in 4 years, when I crossed the threshold of a doorframe.
I feel a little less targeted. A little less outcast. Less trash. Less
isolated. Less suspect in question sighted. A little less frightened.
Less undesirable. Less threatening. A little less stereotyped terror.
My stride regains its power as I walk. These concrete jungle barrios are my own
valleys where death is imminent. Yet still… I fear no evils. No prejudices. No injustices.
No cops. Because I was born ready to LIVE. LIVE for the rights we non-whites still aren’t
equally given. LIVE for the need to punch throw this American Glass Ceiling so that the
generations after me have a better tomorrow. LIVE for my siblings so that they know their big
brother did all he could with what he had and that was enough. In a world that disregards
the light we radiate, because enough isn’t always enough for society. LIVE for my godchildren
& the child I have already lost. We all are LIVING until we die, but not everybody LIVES.
When I am in the doorframe. A silent standing ovation for myself. An auto support system
I have cultivated for my inner demons and insecurities for what is now 25 years of
my existence. I am self in service of purpose. Selfishly selfless, because there are fewer examples of
what black joy and black power looks like without giving in to elitism. This is how we stabilize.
How we build black. How we find meaning in the word foundation. How we pave the way.
I am more than #RashidStymeliWhite. I am an empire. Legacy. I am Virginia. I am Richmond.
I am Renaissance. Powerful. Whole. Not damaged. I am worthy. Enough. Value. I am in love.
I am light. I am Life. Equality. Ally & Accomplice (there is a difference). Intelligence.
Undefined. Abstract. I am a walking universe if you ever examine my cosmos.
We were taught to buy a piece of our own, so we have a safe haven to unlearn our traumas in.
This was never about the real estate, the equity, or the reparations. It was about the failed attempts to
diminish our souls. When I pass beyond the veil of this door frame—I am revolution—a readymade bomb
of abolition. I write from my soul in hopes this reaches you and your family. Regardless of blood ties
We are family. You were 15 years too young. Now your story is a part of me. Quawan “Bobby” Charles.
