From Jack to Vic

Vic left this empty blog open when he went to bed half an hour ago, about 11:20pm, and I fought with myself about whether or not I should try posting here, and if he was going to be mad, but I have to go to work early tomorrow and he has an appointment in town so I wanted to send him this thing, this post because I felt bad about not responding when he had a hard night.
I'm not sure if he has shared on here about some of the non-profits that he wants to run.  The group home for at risk teens, the cancer carnivals, the AIDS festivals, etc.  For the past few days he has shared his heart with me and I feel so honored that he has allowed me the chance to be with him.  One of the biggest things I found out about Vic is that he has the biggest heart of anyone I know.  I have seen him sign petitions, call the White House, call members of the Senate and House of Representatives.  I have seen him write and send letters to celebrities trying to bring change to the world.  It's humbling to be around someone whose main goal in life is to make everyone else happy.  I'm not saying he is perfect, we've had a couple of disagreements, but for the most part he has been this strong, avenging angel.  I've seen him offer advice, comfort, make people laugh, I watched as he wrote letters and called to have the Defense of Marriage Act revoked in states where he had friends who are gay and then I watched as he did the same for others.  I watched him get angry on the behalf of those who were unable to fight for themselves, and fight for those people and then I watched him cry when his efforts failed to change anything.
I read his posts and I know that he would never tell you all what he does when he's entertaining you or comforting you or offering you advice or being your "Big Sister or Big Brother."  I normally would not have "stolen" his laptop to post this but I held him in my arms tonight as he cried over the execution of Troy Davis.  He told me that he had protested for Troy, called the Georgia Parole Board, the Georgia Senator, he had even called the White House and pleaded with the president to do whatever he could to get a stay of execution for this man.  I asked him why it was so important to him and I saw him look at me in shock and then I watched as he cried.  He told me that I wouldn't understand, couldn't understand.  That it was about more than just an innocent man being executed, it was about more than a man who was falsely accused, who had no evidence linking him to the crime, who had seven of the nine? witnesses change their stories and admit to lying, he said for him it was about justice.  Then he told me a few stories that made me nauseous and made me hurt for him even more.
He told me about being ten years old in Winter Haven, Florida and walking home from school and being called the "N" word and pelted with rocks by a truck full of white boys.  He told me about the teacher who said "you people hate to do work" and how when he spoke up against the teacher, he was suspended for three days, he told me about being put on lockdown in two different schools because the KKK had come onto the campus and demanded that all "N-s" be brought out so that they could be hung.  He told me about his friend who was tried and found guilty of armed robbery and first degree murder of a convenience store owner and how there was no evidence linking him to the crime but how he was serving life in prison in Texas. He told me about job interviews he had been on, professors he'd had meetings with, and people he'd met who had treated him and talked to him as if he were beneath them just because of the color of his skin.
He cried and told me that he'd had one of his kids from the LGBT center he volunteers at, a young black boy, tell him that he couldn't really accept the "It Gets Better" videos as applying to him, because while being gay is hard and he got bullied over it, that he was still a black man and that living where he lives that means a whole lot more trouble for him than him being gay.
I didn't know what to say.  I held him and I had no words for him.  I sat next to him today and watched as he uplifted others, as he talked to people who were hurting, as he got angry on behalf of his friends, as he was selfless and self-sacrificing for a friend, and I asked him if he was ever NOT that way.  I know he's not perfect, but he's damn near close in my eyes and I felt horrible that when he needed me I had no words to give him, no support, no platitudes, all I could do was hold him while he cried and then put him to bed when he said he just wanted to sleep.
But, I've had a chance to think about it and baby, I'm going to tell you what I've heard you tell others these past few days.  It sucks when something you've fought for fails, it hurts when someone you've tried to help is beyond it, it makes you mad and it makes you cry and it makes you feel like you should give up, but you can't give up, because that next person might just be the one that you can save, the one you can help.  You're hurting because your heart is so big and you throw yourself into these cases and into these causes and it is what makes you special, but don't let this failure make you quit.  I never want to see you cry like you did tonight.  I don't think I can handle it, but I will deal with it if it means that you're still fighting.  You wouldn't be happy if you gave up and stopped fighting for justice for all, for happiness and freedom and love and truth.  You told me that it was all about truth.  Don't forget that.  Don't give up, you wouldn't be you if you gave up.
I hope you don't mind that I sort of stole your blog for a second to send this to you.


Jackson