I’M STILL HERE. I’M STILL BUILDING.

Rebuilding a life while trying to build something for others

A First-Person Video Essay | By Ricardo A. Stoyell

Sometimes journalism begins by investigating someone else’s story. Sometimes the story you have to examine is your own.

A NOTE TO MY READERS

It has been a while since I published something new on Expose the Silence.

I haven't stopped writing.

I haven't stopped investigating.

And I certainly haven't stopped caring about the stories this platform was created to tell.

The truth is much simpler:

I've been trying to survive.

This piece is different from the reported journalism I normally publish here. It is personal. It is uncomfortable. And it comes from a part of my life that is still happening.

There is no neat ending to this story.

I'm writing from somewhere in the middle of it.

And because so much of what I have experienced intersects with the very issues I created Expose the Silence to examine—homelessness, access to justice, family separation, poverty, institutional systems and what happens when ordinary people don't have the resources to navigate them—I believe this story belongs here too.

So this time, instead of investigating someone else's silence, I'm exposing some of my own.

I’M STILL HERE

I'm not making this video because I have everything figured out.

I don't.

The truth is, I'm still struggling.

I'm still trying to keep a roof over my head.

I'm still trying to find work.

I'm still defending myself in court, pro se, because I don't have the resources to have somebody fight these battles for me.

And some days, I'm exhausted.

Some days I look around and think:

How the hell am I supposed to rebuild a life from this?

But then I get up.

Maybe that's stubbornness.

Maybe it's resilience.

Maybe after everything I've been through, I simply don't know how to quit anymore.

And maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Because somewhere inside all of this chaos, I found a purpose.

I KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THE CRACKS

I became a journalist because I wanted to tell the stories that are easy to ignore.

People experiencing homelessness.

People trapped inside systems they don't understand and can't afford to navigate.

Fathers fighting to remain part of their children's lives.

Animals that need someone to protect them.

People who have fallen through the cracks and discovered that climbing back out is a hell of a lot harder than people think.

I know something about those cracks.

I've lived in them.

And living through these experiences has changed the way I understand the subjects I investigate.

Homelessness stops being an abstraction when you've experienced it.

Access to justice means something different when you're standing in a courtroom representing yourself because hiring an attorney isn't financially possible.

Poverty looks different when a relatively ordinary expense becomes a crisis.

And discussions about family separation become painfully real when you're talking about your own children.

Those experiences don't make me objective simply because I experienced them.

They make me responsible for being transparent about where I'm coming from.

That's why I'm labeling this piece for exactly what it is:

My story. My perspective. My experience.

And it is one of the reasons I continue doing the journalism behind Expose the Silence.

SPIRITUS INVICTUS

Somewhere along this journey, reporting the problems stopped feeling like enough.

I started asking another question:

What can I actually do?

That's why I created Spiritus Invictus — The Unconquered Spirit.

And I need to be clear about something.

I'm not standing here pretending that I'm some successful man coming down from the mountain to rescue everybody.

I'm still climbing the damn mountain myself.

Spiritus Invictus is being built from the ground up while I'm rebuilding myself at the same time.

I don't have a huge organization behind me.

I don't have some giant donor writing checks.

Right now, I have a mission.

I have my journalism.

I have my hands.

I have my creativity.

And I have whatever stubborn fire inside me keeps saying:

Keep going.

So that's what I'm doing.

USING WHAT I HAVE

I make jewelry.

I work with wire, leather, stones, bones, shells and whatever else I can turn into something meaningful.

I make art.

I write.

I document.

I investigate.

I tell stories.

I try to turn whatever I have into resources that can keep me moving forward and eventually help this foundation become something capable of serving others.

Not because I think I'm above asking for help.

And not because I want anybody to feel sorry for me.

I'm simply doing what I can with what I have.

That's what servant leadership means to me.

You don't stand in front of people and tell them where to go.

You pick up a shovel.

You start digging.

And when somebody else shows up with another shovel...

you build together.

I NEED PEOPLE — NOT FOLLOWERS

That's where I am right now.

I need people.

Not followers.

People.

Volunteers.

Artists.

Journalists.

Advocates.

People who understand nonprofits.

People who understand grants and fundraising.

People with experience in law, mental health, homelessness, animal rescue, communications and community services.

People who have connections I don't have.

People who know things I don't know.

And people who may simply have some time and believe that what we're trying to build is worth helping.

Because I cannot build Spiritus Invictus alone.

And I don't think I'm supposed to.

FOR MY CHILDREN

There is another reason I keep doing this.

Probably the biggest one.

My children.

I wish I could see them.

I wish I could talk to them.

I wish I could simply be their father and be present for the ordinary moments of their childhood.

There are things happening in their lives right now that I will never get back.

And that hurts in a way I don't really know how to explain.

But I refuse to allow that pain to become hatred.

I have to turn it into something else.

So if I cannot be with my children today...

then I can build something in their name.

Maybe someday they'll look back at this period of my life and understand that their father didn't disappear.

He didn't stop loving them.

He didn't stop fighting to become part of their lives.

And while he was waiting for that door to open, he tried to make sure that another father, another mother, another family, another human being didn't have to walk through the same darkness completely alone.

If something good can eventually come from what I have lived through—if another father gets help before losing years with his children, if somebody experiencing homelessness finds a hand instead of another closed door, if an animal finds safety, or if someone's story finally gets heard—then perhaps some of this pain can become something useful.

Maybe that's part of what all of this becomes.

I don't know.

BUT I’M STILL HERE

I'm still figuring it out.

I'm still hurting.

I'm still rebuilding.

I'm still scared sometimes.

And yes...

I'm still stubborn as hell.

But I'm still here.

And as long as I'm still here, I can still create.

I can still write.

I can still investigate.

I can still serve.

I can still fight for something better.

And I can still build.

THERE IS WORK TO DO

So if something I'm saying speaks to you—if you have skills, time, resources, ideas, connections or simply the desire to help another human being build something that might actually matter—

come talk to me.

Not because I need people to save me.

Because there is work to do.

And I could use some brothers and sisters willing to pick up a shovel.

I am a father.

I am a journalist.

I am an artist.

I am still rebuilding my life.

And I am the founder of Spiritus Invictus.

The Unconquered Spirit.

I don't know exactly where this road ends.

But I know what I'm going to do tomorrow.

Get up.

Pick up whatever tools I still have.

And keep building.

For my children.

For the people whose stories deserve to be heard.

For the animals who cannot speak for themselves.

For anyone who has ever lost almost everything and wondered whether there was still a reason to get back up.

There is.

I'm still looking for mine every day.

And maybe...

that's exactly what makes it worth fighting for.

THE WORK CONTINUES

Expose the Silence will continue doing what it was created to do:

Investigate. Document. Question. Listen. And expose the stories that too often remain silent.

Spiritus Invictus represents another part of that journey—the attempt to turn awareness into service and build practical ways of helping people and animals who have fallen through the cracks.

They are different missions.

But they come from the same conviction:

People deserve to be seen.
People deserve to be heard.
And dignity should not depend on how much money or power someone has.

If you want to contribute to the journalism, share a story, collaborate, volunteer your skills, or help build Spiritus Invictus, reach out.

I'm still building the infrastructure.

I'm still learning.

I'm still struggling.

But I'm not waiting until my life is perfect before trying to do something worthwhile.

Maybe that's the point.

Sometimes you build the shelter while you're still standing in the storm.

SPIRITUS INVICTUS

The Unconquered Spirit.

Do No Harm — Take No Chains.

Ricardo Stoyell

Author's Note: This is a first-person essay based on my personal experiences and perspective. It is distinct from the independently researched and reported journalism published by Expose the Silence.

Independent Journalism: ExposeTheSilence.org
Spiritus Invictus Foundation: SpiritusInvictusFoundation.org

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