KevinMD March 30, 2025
They never said it outright. Not at first.
They didn’t have to.
I was a physician at the edge of the Republic, serving those the system had long since forgotten. When the last doctors left, I remained. I healed. I endured. I became necessary.
And for that, the system turned.
Not with conviction, but suspicion.
Not with verdict, but process.
Not for action—but for what I represented.
In a frosty room on an island where brown skin walks every street and fills every waiting room, I sat alone. A tribunal of pallid judgment arrayed before me. Imported robes, foreign eyes. Even the silence spoke of exile. Across from my trammeled figure, the polished emblem of progressivism: Speaking for justice, serving...
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