Where Light Meets Shadow – The Hidden Cost of Prejudice in Paradise
- Brainz Magazine
- Jul 29
- 8 min read
Nichell has done over 10,000 readings. She uses a person's Astrological Natal Birth Chart to read from. A birth chart is like a blueprint of a person's mind, body, and spirit.
“To be honest with you. I never go to the Newtown area of Sarasota. I just arrived here four years ago from the NYC Tristate area. I ended up in the Amish neighborhood, which I love. I'm staying between my hood downtown, St. Armands, and Lido. I have everything I need within my realm. For me, living here has been like heaven on earth. I’m living my best life. In the simplest ways.
But then, through individuals like Cornell and his experience here, I’m learning about a very different side of Sarasota. It makes me so sad. My immediate impression of him from that first video? He’s got a beautiful, dynamic light about him, and then peering into the neighborhood deeper through him, it’s like all the people in that neighborhood are hidden gems dimming their light as a form of protection.”
The day it all began: October 10, 2024
There is a boy named Cornell Harris. But call him KuttUp4Pick, because that’s the name he’s chosen to carve a path through pain with rhythm and rhyme.
On October 10, 2024, just one day after Hurricane Milton tore through Sarasota, Cornell stepped out of his home in Skye Ranch. There was no electricity. It was stiflingly hot indoors. So, like any teen would, he walked. Walked for air. Walked for the signal. Walked to check if his neighbors were okay.
He saw a woman barefoot, standing on the grass with a baby in her arms. His first thought wasn’t fear, it was compassion. He asked her if she needed help.
Her response? To run inside and tell her husband that “some Black kid is hitting on her.”
What followed was a psychological assault. Not one, not two, but three to four grown white men confronted and followed this 18-year-old boy. In front of their own children. Teachers. Parents. Pillars of the “community.”
And what did they say to him?
“Did you jump the fence with the cattle to get here?” “Where do you live?” “Who are you?”
“Where did you come from?” “Why were you talking to my wife?”
These were not innocent questions. There were accusations. They were threats masked in passive interrogation. And then it escalated.
One of the men went to get his car. He drove up, jumped out, and said:
“I got something for you.”
And if it hadn’t been for one of the others, if not for one thread of sanity still hanging in the air—this story could have ended very differently.
“Don’t do it, Steve. Don’t do it.”
That was the line. That was the moment. That’s what saved him. But ask yourself:
What kind of man needs to be reminded that an 18-year-old boy is a child?
And if your skin is tingling right now, good. It should be. Because this story echoes one we know too well.
Emmett Till, 1955
Emmett Louis Till (July 25, 1941 August 28, 1955) was an African American youth who was 14 years old when he was abducted and lynched in Mississippi after being accused of offending a white woman, Carolyn Bryant, in her family’s grocery store.
The brutality of his murder and the acquittal of his killers drew national attention to the long history of violent persecution of Black people in America.
Emmett Till became an icon of the civil rights movement.
And now, Cornell Harris, 69 years later, was almost the same story. A Black boy. A white woman. An accusation. A group of white men escalating. Children watching. A neighborhood watching. A system watching.
And yet again, they tried to bury the light.
You can watch the original video and my exclusive two-part interview with Cornell on Instagram: @Nichell3.0
The woman who sparked it all: Regina Carega
In a video posted by @ThatDaneshGuy on Instagram on July 26th, Regina Carega, the wife of Stephan Carega, the main man involved on that day, shared a Facebook exchange with a woman named Keke. In it, Regina claimed that her husband does not own a gun. Then she went on to say that the “young guy” had actually stayed with one of the neighbors during the hurricane. Keep that in mind: they knew he belonged there.
And still, grown men circled around him asking, “Where do you live?” “Who are you?” “Why are you here?”
She continued, claiming Cornell approached her and her baby and asked, “Do you have a man?” She said she thought he asked if she had a “meal,” so she replied, “I’m good, do you have a meal?” Then she said he laughed and repeated, “No, do you have a man?” and followed with, “I will be your man. I will take care of you,” before walking toward her garage door. Feeling afraid, she said, she ran inside to tell her husband.
Wow. That’s pretty bold of Cornell, an 18-year-old still in high school, unemployed, the day after a devastating hurricane, to offer to take care of a woman and her baby he had never met. Regina rushing inside like a damsel in distress is what allegedly triggered her husband’s rage, the rage that led to a mob of grown white men confronting a Black teenage boy.
Sounds very Emmett Till 69 years later to me.
The woman who survived it all: Whitney Portela
Cornell’s mother, Whitney Portela, lives in Skye Ranch. But her journey didn’t start there. On the evening of March 7, 2009, just four days after Cornell’s third birthday, tragedy shattered her world. Living in the Newtown area of Sarasota, Whitney and her partner were victims of a home invasion.
Cornell’s father was shot and killed. Whitney was shot six times, and she barely survived.
Today, she’s not only a survivor but a fierce protector of her son. When Cornell posted the video of what happened on October 10, 2024, it was Whitney who shared it on her own social media. It went viral, with eight million views, and the truth could no longer be buried. But exposure came with a price.
She is still being harassed by the very men who targeted her son.
In a video posted by @JanninainRealLife on Instagram on June 20th, Whitney shared that since filing a lawsuit on April 18th, her home has been targeted. She’s had bags of dog feces thrown into her yard daily. She’s endured racial slurs. Acts of intimidation. Psychological warfare. She now lives in constant fear for herself and for her children.
But this story isn’t just about Cornell
It’s about us. Humanity.
It’s about what we’ve allowed to fester in the places we call “paradise.”
Because Sarasota isn’t just white sand and sunsets. It’s also Newtown. It’s a history of wade-ins on Lido Key during Jim Crow, where brave Black Floridians stood in silent rebellion just to touch the same waters as their white neighbors.
“Here we go with the 50s again.”
In the 1950s, Sarasota’s shores became a quiet battleground for justice. Denied equal access to public beaches, Black residents led by NAACP president Neil Humphrey Sr., a local pharmacist and civil rights leader, organized peaceful “wade-ins” at Lido Beach.
Inspired by the sit-ins sweeping the South, these demonstrations challenged segregation by simply occupying space that had long been off-limits. Men, women, and children drove from the Black community and entered the Gulf of Mexico with dignity and courage, knowing the risk but refusing to be excluded. These acts were not just about swimming; they were a powerful, nonviolent stand against Jim Crow laws and a demand for equal rights in the public sphere.
And here we are, seventy years later, and children are still being profiled, followed, and feared for breathing while Black.
This isn’t just about race either. It’s about fear. Projection. The dark magic of prejudice that takes hold in the human psyche and refuses to let go. The need to control. To dominate. To diminish light.
Prejudice doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it whispers:
“You don’t belong here.” “You’re a threat.” “You don’t look like us.” “You’re too loud, too soft, too different.”
“Your God is not our God.” “Your power frightens me.”
What prejudice actually is: A wound that sees itself in others
The mind of the prejudiced person is not inherently evil; it is deeply wounded. And wounded people, when unconscious, become protectors of broken paradigms.
Prejudice is not a personality trait. It is a distortion. A virus of the ego masquerading as virtue. It disguises itself as tradition. As a fear of crime. As religious righteousness. It is hate dipped in reason.
And yet, healing is still possible.
But only when we are brave enough to look within when we ask:
Where am I dimming someone else’s light to preserve my illusion of safety?
What I’ve witnessed with my own eyes
“Prejudice has everything to do with the person spewing the hate and has nothing to do with the person they’re throwing rocks at.”
Growing up in Connecticut, I was 7 years old and walking home alone. A little girl in a car rolled down the window and screamed the n-word at me again and again. Not just the word, but the hate in her face. She was a child like me, but mimicking the rage of some adult in her life. That stayed with me.
At 13, I was at the park with my white girlfriends. A group of grown white men walked past and hurled the same word. But one of my friends, blonde hair, blue eyes, thick glasses, baseball cap, yelled back:
“You’re the nigger. You leave her alone.”
She alchemized that word. Reflected on it. Transformed it. She shut them down. That’s the power of real allyship.
Later, living in New York City, as a woman with a curvaceous body, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been verbally harassed and assaulted by men on the streets. Walking with grief in my heart, my father dying, my mother sick, and someone screams,
“Damn girl, you got some nice titties!”
I wasn’t walking for attention. I was walking to survive. And yet I was reduced to flesh. A body. A fantasy. Not a human being.
And then there’s the system
Five days after the incident with Cornell, the Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office released a statement. You can read it here or in the official report.
Despite clear video footage of grown men aggressively following a teenage boy, the Sheriff’s Office closed the investigation, citing a lack of probable cause. No charges filed. No justice served.
What message does that send?
That if you’re Black, even your innocence is suspicious?
That a group of armed white men chasing a child isn’t cause for concern, but the presence of that child is?
And yet, there is still light
Cornell "KuttUp4Pick" didn’t fold. He didn’t let that day steal his spirit. He turned it into music. Into truth. Into healing. Search for his song “Rained Out” on YouTube. I cried listening to that song. You can hear the pain in his voice and how that experience haunts him.
When I interviewed him, I saw not just a young man, but an old soul. Composed. Grounded. Peaceful. Powerful. Pure.
He is still being harassed. Still being taunted. His mother, too. And yet he rises.
Let this be more than a story
Let this be your awakening.
Let this be the article that makes you cry, question, and change. This isn’t just a local issue. This is a mirror being held up to the soul of humanity.
Because no matter your race, your gender, your beliefs, we are all here together. Sharing the air. Walking the same streets. Wading in the same water.
So I ask you:
When will humanity finally evolve?
When will light be allowed to shine without fear of shadow? We owe it to Cornell.
We owe it to Newtown.
We owe it to every child dimming their light just to stay alive. Let us do better. Let us be better.
Read more from Nichell Delvaille
Nichell Delvaille, Holistic Soul Coach, Intuitive Astrologer
Nichell is a Wellness Practitioner. Healing affects all aspects of a person. She is a Holistic Soul Coach, Intuitive Astrologer, Reiki Master and Herbalist. Nichell also has certifications in Yoga, Meditation and Ayurveda.
