After my last talk “Is a Hot Dog a Sandwich and other pressing questions” from Attica Prison, my brother Walter, who’s a diehard Buffalo Bills fan, asked: “If I can give another talk What would it be about?” So jokingly, I said, if I could, it’d be on: how the Buffalo Bills ruined the world. Bills fans relax. I actually mean this in a good way. Plus, I don’t want any smoking Bills mafia. I’ve seen what they do to super fan Pinto Ron, whom they love. So I don't need to hear the butchers comment and Bills fans jumping through my dining room table. But if they try it at Attica, they’ll go to the box. in case you don’t know, that’s solitary confinement. Trust me, it is not fun. But seriously, have you seen Bills Mafia? They’re lunatics. Oops. They’re very passionate and immensely loyal fans who support their team like no other.
Case in point,
however when their quarterback Josh Allen’s grandmother passed away, they donated close to one and a half million dollars in $17 increments, which is also his jersey number, to the Patricia Allen Fund in Oshei’s Children’s Hospital. But when they donated thousands to the visually impaired advancement, the troll reffed over a blown call in the game. When I heard the team with this event was challenging fears, it caused me to think maybe the Bills could actually run the world. Well, at least ruining away the world challenges these fears by showing us all that we must believe, be unafraid to cross any metaphorical tables in our way, help us support those on our team and even those who aren’t, and whether we win or lose, take pride in putting forth an unprecedented effort. As a Patriot fan, it pains me to say this, but perhaps Bill's Mafia had the ideal mindset for challenging our fears. These past few years of the pandemic have been challenging for us all, and many of us have been forced to face our worst fears. I remember as a child, I was deathly afraid of Jason Voorhees from the Friday the 13th movies. I’ll talk about from the hockey mask to the machete to the hole, shhh, haha, and all. I was shoot. Of course, I got older and I realized there’s nothing this fictional creature could do to me. I later discovered that that monster pales in comparison to the other fears that I would encounter and continue to battle, including my fear of being vulnerable, leaving me to act impervious to grief, loneliness, change, failure, powerlessness and my own mortality. Last spring, on a day to mark one year since the murder of George Floyd, my father passed away suddenly. Although Pa wasn’t perfect, he did his best to help others. Literally took a bullet for me, and I felt like I had let him down by not being there for him as I should have. The day before I was scheduled to leave prison to view this body, I learned that my teenage son, who’s autistic and severely epileptic, had been placed in a wheelchair because he was having between 20 to 30 seizures a day. I also wanted to talk to people who supported me most of all my incarceration. My mother and sister also won't be able to attend the viewing. That's because when I went to the funeral home, I happened to pass them t Roswell Park Cancer Center, where my mother was there for chemotherapy treatment. At this time, I felt completely like a failure, absolutely powerless, and have feared the worst. Unfortunately, that was a consequence of the lifestyle that I had chosen to live, which led to my incarceration. All I could do was believe that it would be all right. As this pandemic has shown us, there’s something about being confined or locked down which causes the person to yearn for their old normal. Despite how dysfunctional it may have been and might resemble the horror film, a set, there was no more running from escaping my mother’s building as I now reside in a cell with her. No, it’s not Jason. It was me. That’s because prior to this new normal, my eyes already consisted of the practice of masking and being socially distanced. But all due to a fear of being vulnerable. I had on his mask, having everything together and being fine, even though I wasn’t. It wasn’t my ears that were uncomfortable from it. But it was my soul. It’s sad to say, but a somewhat excelled at doing battle and had grown accustomed to that normal, even to the point where I was afraid of doing otherwise, on masking and losing respect of friends who really weren’t my friends. It may sound odd at a moment when we’re all probably sick, and all, but I was apprehensive of taking off my mask. To do so would expose me to the fears that initially caused me to don it as my PPE, such as my [inaudible] issues. Those that I wasn’t love. My reluctance to ask for help, and the fear of being a failure. However, that exposure won’t kill me because unknowingly I was inoculated and possessed the antibodies that we all have in order to defeat our fears: Hope, strength and love. With those things, any fear can be overcome. We just have to jump to the table. As James Baldwin put it, not everything face can be changed, but nothing can be changed unless it is faced. Therefore, I was obligated to face my fears that are come up short. Some times, I will be susceptible to criticism and even vulnerable and something that just beyond my control. And you’re capable of facing your field as well. I’d be remiss not to add this. When my mother was battling - no, kicking breast cancer’s ass - there’s actually one thing she always want me to remember. And she said that love is the greatest gift that you can give someone and how you love people is important. So I’ve chosen to use my time incarcerated for my betterment as well as others. In hope of preventing at least one youth at risk from repeating my mistakes, I joined the Youth Assistance Program, which is an adaptation of the Squires program from San Quentin. Thank you, San Quentin program is saving lives and it has allowed me to assist others, as well as confront some of my fears, Like public speaking. By enriching others, we actually enrich ourselves. Now, I must ask, are we finally ready to take off these masks? No, not the ones that protect ourselves and others from the spread of COVID-19 or my identity from Bills’ masks. But the ones that cover hard truth with soft lies, such as when we’re asked how we’re doing and we reply: “fine”, even though we aren’t. Those that cause us to treat others how we don’t want to be treated, and those that have slowed the spread of kindness, empathy and decency. These are just some of the masks we must be willing to shed in order to move on to a happier and more inclusive existence. Since how we do it is important - and I fear just one person doing so isn’t enough, this will take an unprecedented team effort - we can do this with the hashtag Buffalo Challenge. In honor of my mom, pop and hometown, I challenge everyone to spread the love, and help someone else overcome their fear. Just make sure it is not a criminal, I don’t need any more cell mates. Whether it's trying something new, learning about a different culture, starting a business, or giving someone a second chance. Let’s embrace change and won our way to a world where challenge is fierce. Stay healthy, blessed and grateful. Thank you for your time. (Applause)
