Dear Unsealed Family,

It would be off-putting if I didn’t stress that I’m not a overly intelligent
person when it comes to relationships with a divine creator. It is of the most
importance to me that I find something, something that was written or
spoken to help me define this world. This world that for most of my
existence I’ve experienced envelopes of deeply rooted detachments to my
own soul. I was lost, expecting the world to bend to the truth that a
melanated child like myself had some special qualities or traits which only I
have to make me aware of the sudden effects of this particular butterfly that
I’am. I found myself being classified as aberrant, corpulent and numerous
other adjectives one as Juvenile as myself would find Detrimental. It broke
my will to live being that my father’s side of the family and classmates
made me feel that I was impotent, a mundane atom of wasted potential.
It wasn’t just with words used but non-verbal cues that emptied my belief in
myself and this world. It felt as if I was a Homicide not to gang wars but
between family and Societal estrangement. The only peace I had was the
way silence had my back. It was in those moments of silence that
volunteered violence creeped into my mind. These thoughts started to
become folklore to my young mind and harmony with harm became my
only friend. A forever companion that I couldn’t forget, and I walked the
streets of depression alone. When going to school the subway became my
way to ensure a quite exit from this world. I would every day press my face
near the edge of deaths door and at a split second pull back to feel a bit of
what death was like. At the time I didn’t know what a suicidal thought was
or that I had for most of my childhood been a threat to myself. I was
fighting the thought of my being and the anxiety of the words of external
pressures, their shadows slowly stalking my mind. But it was one thing that
made me realize a rather strange feeling I been longing for like the love of
Eros to the desire desperately to feel noticed. I was in my 7th grade art class
and we was creating pottery and could etch anything into the sides of our
clay pots. I stumbled upon images that reflected my interest in my culture. I
picked up Egyptian hieroglyphs and in the process something drew me
towards those pieces of paper. It was if I’ve resonated with those images
that they were a part of my soul and have been for quite a long time. So I
used them on my mug and ashtray, but it didn’t stop there. When computer
class started I would research these hieroglyphs in an attempt to further my
understanding of why these things had such a profound impact on my
young mind. This is when my eyes began opening, looking like a full moon
juxtaposed to the dark mood-less sky. I saw melanated individuals who took
the wind from me. I always wondered why I never saw anybody that looked
like me on the television and if I did, they were mostly athletes or
musicians. it wasn’t until the day that I saw the Egyptians that I knew that
there was more to my people and my heritage. I had the biggest smile on
my face, my shoulders relaxed and my soul, my soul felt whole. I always
believed that my history began and ended at slavery, that I was and always
will be just a N-Word to my self, my people and to other cultures that knew
their story, but now I knew mines as well. It was when I learned that piece
of time not explained to us in the history books that I made a decision to
father study my own history. So to this day I reach for further guidance
from my ancestors and look at them to show self pride in myself. I know
that when I’m down or have thoughts to do harm or anything else I can
meditate on the matter with them and they will find an answers. I’am not a
N-word or any other label someone could describe me as,I’am called Negus
now which is Ethiopian royal title that was historically used to refer to the
monarch or ruler of Ethiopia. I’am happy, I’am love, I’am whole and I’am
grateful to be a melanated soul on this earth.

Always grateful,
Rashan Speller