Discovering Derrick LaCarr Gooseprize

Blog post where I dissect my childhood experiences that molded me as an adult. Warning, there is mention of Domestic abuse and Sexual.

Born in Pinehurst, North Carolina, on a day that would later hold significant memories for me, I experienced a bittersweet beginning. It was the day of my great uncle's funeral, and I, being my mother's firstborn, was the reason she decided to leave the Air Force. Little did I know that this would mark the start of a challenging journey. 

As the years went by, my childhood became defined by the memories of child abuse. My younger brother's father possessed a volatile temper, and unfortunately, my mother bore the brunt of his attacks, which eventually extended to me. It was during this period that I first believed I was enduring a living hell. I endured frequent beatings with various objects, such as clothes hangers, and extension cords, and even had a hairbrush forced down my throat. These acts of violence became a daily occurrence, while my little brother seemed to be spared from the same treatment. He was often spoiled. It was my mother and I who faced the wrath of his father's ill will. 

However, a change began to unfold in the spring. I vividly remember sitting on the steps of my great grandmother's house, feeling alone and unaware of anyone's presence. At the tender age of five or six, a stranger approached me, or at least I assumed he was a man. He engaged in conversation with me, and I, naively, showed him my scars. He then urged me to walk to the daycare I attended and reveal my scars to a psychiatrist. The following day, I followed his advice and showed the counselor my scars after undressing to my boxers. Recognizing the severity of the situation, the counselor promptly contacted the police. This marked my first encounter with Child Protective Services (CPS) and the beginning of a prolonged separation from my mother. From here is when I was later diagnosed with D.I.D and Derrick LaCarr, Demon Chaints, and Jade Swisherr was found.

I was subsequently placed with a family in Watts, California. Growing up in this gang-infested community exposed me to the harsh realities of life. I witnessed firsthand the senseless violence and mindless brutality that seemed to permeate everyday existence. I walked to elementary school having to carry different colored shirts in my backpack just in case. Would cross railroad tracks and the towers with older kids. Despite the chaos surrounding me, I found solace in the support and warmth provided by older women in the community. However, this temporary respite was short-lived, as I soon found myself uprooted once again. This time, I was placed with a Caucasian family in Maywood, California. Although the duration of my stay with them escapes my memory, it was the first time I experienced a sense of stability and belonging. I cannot recall the exact duration of the time, but it marked the initial instance when I encountered a genuine fatherly figure in my life, distinct from my mother's boyfriend, as my biological father had no interest in meeting me. 

However, this period was short-lived as I soon found myself back in Tennessee, under the care of my great aunt Eva and great grandmother Rosie Lee. My great grandmother imparted to me the importance of reading and respect, sharing stories of life during the Jim Crow era in the South. Books became my refuge from my circumstances, yet they did not equip me for the significant decision I had to make at the tender age of 7, in a courtroom, regarding whom to live with - my mother, great grandmother, or a the white family. Without fully comprehending the permanence of my choice, I opted to return to my mother. Subsequently, we relocated from Jackson, Tennessee, to my birthplace, Pinehurst, North Carolina, where I met my grandmother for the first time and discovered our family's military background. 

Later, I encountered my aunt, who unfortunately was undergoing a situation similar to my mother's. I vividly remember observing shadowy figures through the crack of the door, followed by yelling, a door slam, and then the sound of crying. Fortunately, my younger brother was wearing headphones and remained oblivious to the commotion. Upon opening the door, I found my aunt curled up on the tile floor, surrounded by noodles and water. I embraced her, offering comfort. The neighbors must have overheard the argument, as evidenced by a pink slip on the door as we departed. 

In the ensuing years, life gradually normalized, and I immersed myself in learning to distract myself from the childhood trauma and strive for a semblance of normalcy. Although I had yet to reach my pre-teen years, I had already glimpsed the harsh realities of the world, while leading a somewhat typical childhood as a suburban kid. 

Again, this only lasted up to seven grade. My eight grade year we moved back to Tennessee in a one stop town where I was no longer the only black kid. Gang violence crept its way back into my life, where I haven’t thought about it since elementary school. I was quickly teased because of how proper have become from my short years in North Carolina. Funny because everyone thought I was rich, which was far from the truth. I continued to read and came in top 5 in accelerated reader program for the school. Sadly this stopped when I got to ninth grade because the curriculum changed. I no longer could use reading as an escape. I started to hangout with some Bloods' runners after school who were on the football team. They beat me up one day for some initiation to join them and make some money. I later quit the football team and made some money. 

This lasted for only one additional year. In tenth grade, the man we supported was facing immense pressure. I am unsure whether he saw potential in me or simply wanted me to surpass him, but he advised me, "Find something better, you are unique compared to the others." I took his words to heart and ended up meeting a Caucasian individual who became my mentor in the realm of drugs and the willingness of people to pay for them. He taught me about various substances, including marijuana, pills, attention, and even the desire for youthfulness. This encounter completely changed my perspective on life. It motivated me to focus on my aspirations and prompted me to spend more time with my great grandmother, seeking her wisdom on various aspects of life. 

We would engage in activities such as shucking peas and green beans, or playing checkers, while she imparted her knowledge to me. Unfortunately, we can no longer do these things together due to her battle with Alzheimer's, which began during my sophomore year in college. Nevertheless, during that time, I altered my goals and remained dedicated throughout my junior and senior years. 

After discovering my passion for theater and culinary arts, I made the decision to distance myself from any involvement with drugs following my high school graduation. Unfortunately, I experienced a tragic loss when an individual I had connected with via class was killed in a drive-by shooting over losing a dice game. This event continues to haunt me, as it was the first of many deaths that affected me on a deep spiritual level. Throughout the year 2017, I experienced the loss of co-workers, a barber, and friends, which persisted until my graduation in 2019. The passing of my great uncle just five weeks before my graduation further dampened my mood, as he had been a significant father figure in my life, especially since my cousin's father, who was a police officer, shared the same values. Rest in peace to my cousins father as well, as he tragically lost his life in the line of duty in early 2024.

Despite these challenges, I managed to graduate and take the next step on a universal level. This allowed me to pursue marketing and minor in theatre arts. Additionally, I had the opportunity to work in the music industry through an internship at Universal Music Group, where I met Kaalan and learned the art of songwriting. Although I enjoyed the experience, I made the difficult decision to abandon the internship when negative influences began to emerge. Nevertheless, I persevered with my college education and secured another internship, which led me to meet my best friend. 

She possessed a wealth of knowledge about various subjects, but tragically, she was killed in 2021 in an unrelated incident to the music industry. Her death impacted me deeply, and I found myself consumed by grief, barely eating or leaving my room for days. In an attempt to distract myself, I threw myself into my studies and my marketing internship in the food industry.

In 2022, I successfully graduated and immediately secured a job at a historically black college or university (HBCU) in New Orleans. Initially, I enjoyed my job, but as time went on, I began to notice the disorganization within the institution. This realization prompted me to focus on being a beacon of light to those around me and making a positive impact on the world. I have learned that sometimes you have to go back in order to go forward.