Emergency Safety and Relocation Funds

Hi, I'm Doc Wilkerson and I'm raising money for me to survive the summer. I resigned from my teaching job last October because it wrecked my health, and because the Anti-CRT legislation in Oklahoma makes it nigh impossible for LGBTQI+ educators to avoid being censured, fined in the millions, fired, or thrown in jail. I resigned to recover from my illness and avoid the McCarthyist policies of my state. By January I was able to start adjuncting at the local community college full-time again. Unfortunately, the adjunct pay was significantly lower than I expected. I stopped hemorrhaging money, but had no extra to spare. My savings was held steady until the past six weeks. I'm working on getting freelance gigs, but it's slow going.

I can't decide if I've been naive or innocent about this entire thing. But then I remember that I did exactly these three things to cause any sort of a ruckus, and they are three things that average Americans do every day:

*I wrote a letter to the editor of my hometown newspaper

*I quit the teaching job that wrecked my health

*I fought City Hall for my parents because they were being predated upon by a sketchy developer.

Over the last three weeks, a few things have happened to make my guy wrench hard enough to scream a flash of agony through my nervous system. It felt like what I always imagined a steel-toed boot to the gut would feel like. I can think of no better sensory image to accompany the words "fascism" and "Nazi." This is what my gut told me after each of these experiences:

*My gun-shooting, bonfire-building backyard neighbors catty-corner to the southwest have their pool up and running. They are out there cooking food and splashing around. These are hair-rock Southern rock people, which is why I was surprised to hear the opening guitar riff and voiceover of "The Time Warp" from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was delighted to hear the family matriarch declare drunkenly, "This is from The ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. I LOOOOOOOVE The ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW!" The women discuss the movie for a moment. Then one of the men asks what the movie is about. The voices went quiet. "I ain't listening to any faggot music!" the man finally declared, to my abject horror. The music stopped. People splashed as they got out of the pool. Someone mentioned that the burgers were on. Then I heard the opening riff of "Sweet Home Alabama." blare through the pool speakers. I think to myself that these people could easily burn my house down "accidentally" during their traditional fire-hazardous Fourth of July bonfire party, if they wanted to. I then wondered if they'd "accidentally" burn it down if I was still living there.

*A few weeks back I learned that two of my former BAPS students had recently joined the police force. I distinctly remember them having white supremacist leanings in school and had only become stronger after they graduated. I also learned of the suspicion that the old district superintendent might have been forced to resign because of how I resigned. I spoke truth to power and explained that truth to my students. Because I forgot to make everyone laugh, it seems that some of their parents now want to harm me. That was attested to by comments of random forums I did not belong to but that former colleagues did. They showed me. The existence of such discourse was the new thing I learned this week.

*Monday before last, my handyman J was late to work because he stopped to help a stranded motorist who'd broken down on my street. My three-block radius from West Fourth Street in the west to West 57th Street to the east is actually located on unincorporated land that lies between Sand Springs city limits and Tulsa city limits. The only law enforcement available is the Tulsa County Sheriff's Office, and they are pretty hands-off. They are that way be because everyone in that 3-block radius is a gun owner as far as I've seen from the "We don't call 911" signs in their yards. Signs that are sitting right beside TRUMP 2024 signs in all but three of those yards: mine and two of my near neighbors'. The motorist he was helping was Black. Within ten minutes of J's arrival to give the woman a jump start, a big, black Tulsa Police Department SUV drove up to intrude upon them. Thankfully J was there.

But here's the thing: that cop had no business in our neighborhood because it had been outside of his jurisdiction for the past 72 years. What he did was what neighborhood cops working in adjacent jurisdictions do for their neighbors all the time: answer a call from his neighbor to come check out the Black motorist who'd broken down outside and make sure she wasn't trouble. That cop had no jurisdiction there and no business in the neighborhood that should not have involved the Sheriff's office. Or in this case, a AAA tow truck and basic human decency, for chrissakes. It was then that I realized that there is an out-of-jurisdiction police officer wantonly policing my neighborhood at the whim of my racist neighbors at the same time that I have two fascism-supporting former students now working among them. My blood ran cold.

*Last Saturday, I was summoned to my mother's to give her a bath. My dad had hurt his back and my brother won't do it, so I was called. I went because mom needed me and I knew by then that it would be the last thing I would be able to do for her for a while. Possibly ever.

What I didn't expect was to be followed out of the neighborhood and tailgated by a Sand Springs police SUV. As I crossed the Arkansas River Bridge, I looked in my rearview to find the guy was still tailgating me. A swift kick to the gut told me to get in the far left lane, which was next to me, ASAP. I turned on my signal, waited for a car to pass, watched my child driver safety warning light go off, and I moved over. The car immediately coming up behind me was going at least 6o across this 45 mph bridge and had to slow way down. The cop hadn't come up behind me, so I boogied along across the river and came to a stop about four cars from the stoplight at the end of the bridge.

I looked up and noticed the lane next to me had only one car at the light, and it was much further up. Out of the corner of my eye, I look over and see the cop. He's stopped immediately to my right, pinning me into my lane. His face screams pure murder. He angrily gestures for me to roll down my window. I felt grateful that I pulled myself over to the far left before getting pulled over by him to the right.

"What did you just do?!?" the officer demanded.

Genuinely confused, I gently answered, "I changed lanes?"

"And why did you do it like that?"

"I'm not sure--"

"What were you doing when you changed lanes like that," he literally spat. Flecks of his spit flew all the way across the car and hit my nose.

"I turned on my turn signal, looked behind me, and saw my safety light went off--"

"I KNOW you looked behind you! I SAW you look behind you!"

"I don't understand. Officer?"

"You cut that guy off who was behind you!" He roared." Cars behind him started honking."He had to step on his brakes to avoid hitting you!"

Genuinely shocked and showing it on my face, I replied as meekly as Monroe, "Thank you for telling me this officer, I'm glad I know now so I won't do it again. I'm terribly sorry."

This startled him a moment...long enough for him to disengage. "Don't do it again," he glowered as he rolled up the window. At that precise moment, the light turned green. I got into the lane right behind him and watched him speed off ahead. I took the first right I could find and took the back way home.

I can't go back to Tulsa, but with a little help, I can definitely move forward to a better place. Every little bit helps.