My name is David Isaiah Wilcox. I am black or African american or whatever you want to call me. I am also agoraphobic, but that will tie in later. I see all that is happening in the world, and I am hurt, not just because I am black but, because I am human. The blind eye that society has turned to the suffering of all those of different walks of life than the “majority” needs to stop. And it won’t be easy.
First I speak to those that are claiming to be ignorant of the atrocities of man, Then I speak to those that might hate or feel dirtied by my mere existence. First the virus known commonly as COVID-19 (called such because of the year it originated in) Isolated us, forcing us to stay home or risk the lives of our loved ones that could be harmed or killed by the disease. Little did I know that twenty-twenty would be the year where another sickness would also be addressed, I of course speak of racism. It is odd for me to speak on this topic as I have been locked away in my home with little interaction with the outside world for much longer than the rest of you. I have been stuck at home for seven, coming on eight years now, due to a crippling anxiety disorder. I, when around people begin to ache through my whole body, this pain grows worse and worse until I just can’t take it anymore. In addition if I am outside too long I stop being able to think, and I do mean that in the most broad way possible. If outside too long I begin to lose the ability to do simple tasks. Such as pace, five steps forward, turn, five steps back. On two occasions has it gotten this bad. Never again do I want to feel my brain turn against me to that extent.
I have strode a little off topic but I felt it was necessary to share what exactly I go through when I try to leave the boundaries of my home. Outside it seems the world has descended into chaos. When I heard what happened on May 25, 2020, I was appalled—sickened by what I was hearing. How could men, sworn to the protection of others, take the life of a man for the possibility that he paid with a counterfeit twenty dollar bill. For those that have not figured it out I am speaking of the murder of George Floyd. I found myself asking why aloud; I don’t know who I was talking to, perhaps God. Asking if all this is truly necessary, and if so to what end. Just end it already. I pleaded before and pleaded now “God, please end us all.”
Racism is a disease, a plague that exists in the hearts of man, and can only be conquered if we as a whole acknowledge it, and strive to push past it.
Of course that would not work, we must rise above this adversity, this tragic condition that exists in far too many people. Racism is a disease, a plague that exists in the hearts of man, and can only be conquered if we as a whole acknowledge it, and strive to push past it. To make matters worse, we have a government that has decided that it is best to use rubber bullets, tear gas, and brute force to corral an unwarned and non-violent crowd of protesters. This reminds me of an event in our history, as a nation we once stood against tyranny, rallied together by the deaths of five and injuries of six. We were smaller then, and we had more problems, but how would we have responded had the very scared British Soldiers only used rubber bullets, avoiding the “Boston Massacre”? I guess we will never know.
To close this session of writing, I should say there is hope. Not everyone is racist, for one reason or another. It doesn’t matter what pigment your skin is, if you notice you have a prejudice towards another, based on the pigment of their skin, stop, take a breath, and ask for help. It doesn’t matter who you ask, just talk about it, get it out in the open, and figure out where you picked it up from and how to get better from there. To those that deny that this is a rampant problem in our world, our lives, our souls, I ask you to look again, and ask someone about the pain that they have endured, just because they were born with a different amount of pigment in their skin.