09/05/2024
The following piece is a reminder of my testimony. I wouldn't dare ask anyone to ever walk in my shoes. My mother died when I was six months old. She had three children. Only two of us remain alive today. My older sister was merely two going on three years old when she was killed. Family secrets. Molestation, r**e, depression, su***de survivor. There is so much more to who you see on the surface. I hope this piece encourages and inspires you:
In the cradle of darkness where shadows carve their names,
A soul named Isaac Lashawn Ricks rises,
A phoenix from the ashes of a world unkind,
Where the birthright of sorrow came swift and unbidden.
Six months of tender breath, and his mother was gone,
A cruel hand snatched away the melody of her lullaby,
Leaving behind a void, a chasm of unanswered whispers,
And a child’s heart beating with the echoes of loss.
His older sister, just a whisper of life,
Struck down by the hand of cruelty,
Her laughter turned to silence,
Her light extinguished in a moment of savage darkness.
Yet in the heart of this tempest,
Where hope seemed as distant as a star lost in the night,
Isaac’s spirit was forged,
Not broken, but tempered like steel in the fires of adversity.
He faced demons that danced in the night,
The specters of depression and the abyss of despair,
And the violation of his body, a shattering of innocence,
A deep wound etched into the very fabric of his being.
But within the darkest corners,
Where many would falter,
Isaac found a flicker,
A glimmer of a dawn unseen, a promise of what could be.
From the crucible of his suffering,
He rose—unbowed, unbroken,
A testament to the indomitable will of a soul that refuses to surrender.
Against the tide of a world that questioned his place,
Isaac built bridges with dreams and resilience.
He became a beacon in the culinary world,
A chef whose creations are not just meals but stories of survival,
Whose flavors are whispers of a journey through darkness to light,
A canvas where hope and tenacity paint their vibrant hues.
In boardrooms and classrooms,
He is a leader and a teacher,
Not merely for the knowledge he imparts but for the spirit he embodies,
An educator who stands as proof that the heart can conquer,
That knowledge is a shield and a sword in the fight for justice.
With degrees dr**ed over his shoulders,
He wears his triumphs as armor,
A testament to his unyielding determination,
A symbol of overcoming the odds,
A black gay man who turns barriers into stepping stones.
Isaac Lashawn Ricks, a name carved into the annals of triumph,
Not because he was free from struggle,
But because he walked through fire and emerged unscathed,
A hero of his own making, a legend in the making.
In his journey, there is a lesson for all who listen,
That even when the world is steeped in shadows,
Even when the weight of the past presses heavy,
The human spirit can soar,
Can rise above, can claim its victory.
So let his story be a lighthouse to those lost at sea,
A beacon of strength, of hope, and of relentless resilience,
For Isaac Lashawn Ricks has shown us all,
That the heart’s true power lies in its refusal to give in.
