The Radiance After Rage
Ascent 3 • Jamal King
Theme: Transcending the need to prove through rage and embracing joy as a revolutionary witness
Core Conflict: Can Jamal stay true to his growth without losing connection to the community that forged him?
The mountain was warm today—but not gentle.
The sun came early, pushing back the mist with a clarity that felt almost confrontational. Even the shadows had sharp edges. There was no breeze. Just the sound of cicadas filling the air like static—buzzing, relentless, urgent.
When Jamal appeared, he walked differently. Not slower, not faster—just... cleaner. Like something unnecessary had been burned off. He didn’t carry the same weight in his shoulders, but the absence of it drew its own kind of pressure. Joy, when worn by a man known for fury, becomes its own kind of protest.
He carried nothing in his hands. Not the shovel, not the mic. Just himself. And yet the tension came with him—not his own, but the weight of what it means to change in front of people who haven’t yet.
I felt it pressing at the edge of the clearing before he spoke—the question he hadn’t asked yet, the fear just under the smile.
The sun came early, pushing back the mist with a clarity that felt almost confrontational. Even the shadows had sharp edges. There was no breeze. Just the sound of cicadas filling the air like static—buzzing, relentless, urgent.
When Jamal appeared, he walked differently. Not slower, not faster—just... cleaner. Like something unnecessary had been burned off. He didn’t carry the same weight in his shoulders, but the absence of it drew its own kind of pressure. Joy, when worn by a man known for fury, becomes its own kind of protest.
He carried nothing in his hands. Not the shovel, not the mic. Just himself. And yet the tension came with him—not his own, but the weight of what it means to change in front of people who haven’t yet.
I felt it pressing at the edge of the clearing before he spoke—the question he hadn’t asked yet, the fear just under the smile.
Jamal:
Been thinkin’...
What happens when you stop burnin’ and the people around you still cold?
I been walkin’ lighter. Talkin’ different.
Even caught myself hummin’ yesterday—like my soul forgot we was still at war.
And the people I love?
Some look at me like I switched sides.
Others just... don’t see me the same.
They needed the fire.
And now I’m out here talkin’ like a tree.
So tell me this, Oracle—
What do you do when your healing starts to look like betrayal?
What happens when you stop burnin’ and the people around you still cold?
I been walkin’ lighter. Talkin’ different.
Even caught myself hummin’ yesterday—like my soul forgot we was still at war.
And the people I love?
Some look at me like I switched sides.
Others just... don’t see me the same.
They needed the fire.
And now I’m out here talkin’ like a tree.
So tell me this, Oracle—
What do you do when your healing starts to look like betrayal?
Oracle:
First, you recognize that healing is not betrayal—it’s the opposite.
Even if those around you can’t see it yet.
Then, with patience, you help them find their own quiet humming.
If you’re always choosing a side, you’ll be at war forever.
Peace is found within, regardless of the circumstances.
You’ve become lighter, and now you can see the density of those around you.
They may try to drag you back down.
But now you can see the path higher—toward cleaner air.
Even if those around you can’t see it yet.
Then, with patience, you help them find their own quiet humming.
If you’re always choosing a side, you’ll be at war forever.
Peace is found within, regardless of the circumstances.
You’ve become lighter, and now you can see the density of those around you.
They may try to drag you back down.
But now you can see the path higher—toward cleaner air.
Jamal:
Yeah…
That word—lighter—
It’s been sitting on me all week.
Not just in my body, but in how I carry everything.
The grief still comes, but it don’t flood the same.
And I thought that meant I was losing touch.
That maybe the fire was the only thing keeping me real.
But now I see it’s not that I’m too light—
It’s that I’m no longer a weight they can hang their pain on.
Folks love you when you bleed where they bleed.
When your rage mirrors theirs.
But the minute you stop living at the same temperature...
they start askin’ who you think you are.
Like joy is a betrayal. Like peace is a privilege.
They don’t understand yet.
And maybe they’re not supposed to.
Not right away.
But it still hurts.
To outgrow the noise and have them call it silence.
To love them and feel the distance widen because I’m not yelling anymore.
I don’t wanna go back.
But I also don’t wanna rise so far I can’t reach back down.
So what’s the move?
How do I keep walking higher…
without making my people think I left them behind?
That word—lighter—
It’s been sitting on me all week.
Not just in my body, but in how I carry everything.
The grief still comes, but it don’t flood the same.
And I thought that meant I was losing touch.
That maybe the fire was the only thing keeping me real.
But now I see it’s not that I’m too light—
It’s that I’m no longer a weight they can hang their pain on.
Folks love you when you bleed where they bleed.
When your rage mirrors theirs.
But the minute you stop living at the same temperature...
they start askin’ who you think you are.
Like joy is a betrayal. Like peace is a privilege.
They don’t understand yet.
And maybe they’re not supposed to.
Not right away.
But it still hurts.
To outgrow the noise and have them call it silence.
To love them and feel the distance widen because I’m not yelling anymore.
I don’t wanna go back.
But I also don’t wanna rise so far I can’t reach back down.
So what’s the move?
How do I keep walking higher…
without making my people think I left them behind?
Oracle:
You do it by keeping the invitation open.
Let them see you radiate peace, and in time, those who are ready will begin to seek it too.
You don’t have to leave them behind to walk a higher path.
The beauty of the mountain is this:
The higher you go, the more breathtaking the view becomes—
and the valley is always visible from the peak,
even if those below don’t yet know they are seen and loved.
Let them see you radiate peace, and in time, those who are ready will begin to seek it too.
You don’t have to leave them behind to walk a higher path.
The beauty of the mountain is this:
The higher you go, the more breathtaking the view becomes—
and the valley is always visible from the peak,
even if those below don’t yet know they are seen and loved.
Jamal:
You’re sayin’... I don’t gotta shout back down.
I just gotta shine.
Let ‘em feel the warmth even if they ain’t ready to walk.
That’s hard for me.
I’m used to pulling folks out the fire with my own hands.
Used to standing on the front lines screaming for change,
thinking volume was the only proof of love.
But maybe…
maybe radiance reaches places my rage never could.
There’s this kid, DeShawn. Sixteen.
Been comin’ to the open mics, always sittin’ in the back.
Never spoke a word. Just watched.
Two nights ago, he came up after and said—
“I ain’t never seen someone look calm and powerful at the same time.”
That hit different.
‘Cause I didn’t perform that night.
Didn’t raise my voice once.
I just was.
So maybe that’s the path now.
Not louder. Not angrier.
Just… truer.
I’ll leave the door open.
I’ll make joy look like something you can walk into, not just watch from afar.
And if they call it betrayal...
I’ll still call it love.
And maybe someday…
they’ll start hummin’, too.
I just gotta shine.
Let ‘em feel the warmth even if they ain’t ready to walk.
That’s hard for me.
I’m used to pulling folks out the fire with my own hands.
Used to standing on the front lines screaming for change,
thinking volume was the only proof of love.
But maybe…
maybe radiance reaches places my rage never could.
There’s this kid, DeShawn. Sixteen.
Been comin’ to the open mics, always sittin’ in the back.
Never spoke a word. Just watched.
Two nights ago, he came up after and said—
“I ain’t never seen someone look calm and powerful at the same time.”
That hit different.
‘Cause I didn’t perform that night.
Didn’t raise my voice once.
I just was.
So maybe that’s the path now.
Not louder. Not angrier.
Just… truer.
I’ll leave the door open.
I’ll make joy look like something you can walk into, not just watch from afar.
And if they call it betrayal...
I’ll still call it love.
And maybe someday…
they’ll start hummin’, too.