The morning Beverly left to go back to Atlanta, they took me to a shelter where other kids had been abandoned. I remember the other kids seemed to be having fun, almost like they were happy to be away from their parents. I, on the other hand, was sad. A lady came in, offered me something to eat, and explained how things were going to work. Her name was Dawn. She had a very pretty smile and was a kind lady. I will never forget her. She was so nice to me and made me feel comfortable. After a few days, I got a little more comfortable playing with the other kids. Every day, volunteers would bring us food or cookies or just spend time playing with us. One volunteer, in particular, always gave me special attention. Some days, when I was sad thinking about my father, she sensed it and would help me take my mind off him. I felt love when she came around. She told me her name was Bre.

Every day, I found myself looking for Bre to enter the building. By this point, I and the other kids had become wards of the state. Basically, the state took care of us until someone came to claim us. I adjusted, and I prayed every day that my father would walk through the door. I became very comfortable, but my anger started to emerge as I saw other kids being claimed by their parents. I watched kids come and go. Naturally, I started thinking about my mother. I didn’t know her, but I often wondered where she was.

One day, while we were playing basketball, I saw Bre enter the gym. I was so happy because she hadn’t been around for the past week. I felt overjoyed when I saw her walk in. She was standing there talking to Dawn. I watched them, smiling and talking with each other, and then I saw them embrace. Dawn called me over. I ran over to them. Dawn looked at me while Bre stood there with a smile. Dawn said, “Joseph, you will be going home with Bre.” My heart started racing. I asked, “When will I be back?” Dawn said, “You won’t be coming back. You’ll be with Bre from now on.” At that moment, I became overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry. Bre and Dawn looked at each other, confused. Bre asked, “Joseph, what’s wrong?” I was in full tears, struggling to get the words out, and finally said, “I thought I would be here forever.” Bre hugged me and said, “No, you’ll be with me now, and we’re going to have a lot of fun.” Dawn said, “Go get your things.” Then, she quickly added, “Do you agree to go home with Bre?” I nodded my head up and down.

     On the drive to her house, she stopped and got me some McDonald’s and let me play in the playground area. I was so happy. I remember feeling like it was the best day of my life, and it was only the first day. I had never experienced a mother before Bre. When we got to her house, it was so clean, and it smelled so good. I felt like I was in heaven until a man came out of the bedroom in a police uniform. He looked at me and said, “Hey, little man.” I barely spoke back to him. My hatred for police officers had already begun.

     His name was Demetrius. I think the moment we spoke, we both decided we didn’t like each other. I was young, but I didn’t want to share Bre with anyone. After a while, I started to realize that Demetrius wanted Bre to himself.

Every time Bre left the house for work, Demetrius would put on his uniform and make me clean. He would yell at me. Somehow, he knew his uniform made me uncomfortable. When Bre was home, he was nice to me. Bre loved watching movies. When we would watch a movie, Demetrius made sure I didn’t sit next to Bre.

Bre was the one person who kept me focused, even though Demetrius made me uncomfortable every chance he got. One day, I overheard a conversation between Bre and Demetrius about his job and how he was looking for a new one because the place he worked for was closing down. What I thought was a police uniform was actually a security uniform. I remember feeling so powerful when I realized he was just a security guard.

One particular day, I walked into the kitchen, and Demetrius was sitting at the table in his uniform. I said to him, “Have you ever arrested anybody?” I was laughing on the inside. He didn’t respond. “You’ll be cleaning out the refrigerator today.” I wasn’t afraid anymore, so I sat down at the table with him. He looked at me and said, “Boy, did I tell you to sit down?”

Little Joseph: No, but I did.
Demetrius: Boy, what did you just say?!
Little Joseph: I said, “Have you ever arrested anybody?”
Demetrius: Go into the living room.

I walked into the living room and began watching TV. He stayed in the kitchen. I heard him pulling things out of the refrigerator. Before I knew it, everything he had taken out of the fridge was sitting on the couch next to me. He said, “If Bre comes in while this food is on the couch, she’s probably going to send you back to the mission.” Demetrius laughed. “I’ve already been telling her how you act when she’s not home. If she comes home and sees this stuff on the couch, you’re gone for good.”

     The last thing I wanted was to go back. He scared me. What if he was telling the truth? I was terrified and started putting everything back in the fridge. After everything was put away, Demetrius started laughing and said, “You’re young and stupid. You forgot to clean it.” I had to pull everything back out and clean the inside of the fridge.

     Later that evening, when Bre came home, I was exhausted and silent. Bre kept asking me what was wrong, and Demetrius would always say I was “messed up in the head.” Bre would tell him to be nice.

     Things were about to take a turn for the worse when Bre had to go out of town for a week. I tried to give Bre clues about Demetrius, and she picked up on them. The morning before she left, they had a big argument. I heard Bre slam the door as she was leaving for her trip. Then, I heard Demetrius coming toward my bedroom. He poked his head in and said, “Your ass is mine. Get your ass in the kitchen and clean the walls.” Shocked I went into the kitchen. “What do you mean by cleaning the walls?” I asked. He said, “You dumbass little boy, figure it out.” I stood there, not knowing what to do, and then he added, “You can stand there all night until you figure it out.” 

     I stood there for hours, unsure of what to do. Finally, Demetrius lost patience with me. He yelled, “Joseph, get your dumbass in here!” I walked into the living room, where he was sitting on the couch. He looked at me and said, “Make me a sandwich.” I went into the kitchen, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and brought it to him. He grabbed the sandwich, glared at it, and said, “Boy, I don’t want a damn peanut butter and jelly sandwich!” Then, he threw it against the wall. I watched as jelly slid down the wall. Demetrius laughed and sneered, “Looks like you need to clean the walls.”

     That night, I cried myself to sleep. Sometime later, I thought I heard my father whispering. I raised my head off the pillow, but no one was there. Yet, I know I heard him. When I woke up, I wondered if it had been a dream, but something felt different—I no longer felt fear.

    That morning, Demetrius stormed into my room wearing his uniform. I was sitting on the edge of the bed when he barked, “Clean the tub!” I didn’t move. He yelled louder and louder, but I stayed frozen. Finally, he shouted, “Boy, don’t expect me to feed you today!” I spent the entire day in my room without food.

  Late that night, Demetrius came in and drenched me with cold water. He shined a flashlight in my face, the beam so bright I couldn’t see him. “Put on your clothes,” he ordered. “We’re taking a ride.” A tear rolled down my cheek. I paused, then quietly began packing my clothes in a bag.

     We got into his car. I had no idea where we were going, but the entire ride, he berated me. “You’re worthless! You left a jelly stain on the wall!” As soon as he said that, I looked up and realized where we were. He had pulled up in front of the state youth center. He parked the car and snapped, “Get your shit.”

     I saw Dawn at the door, waiting. As I stepped out of the car, something inside me broke. I went ballistic, screaming and crying. Dawn ran over to me and said softly, “It’s okay, Joseph.” Then, she turned to Demetrius and said, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.” Demetrius shrugged. “I’m sorry too.” Dawn frowned. She didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “Bre thinks this is best for everyone.”

  The next morning, I woke up, but I didn’t open my eyes. I was afraid to be back in a lonely place where, just a few weeks ago, I had felt lucky to meet Bre. I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to talk or play. Dawn tried to reassure me, explaining that this sometimes happens. She told me I was loved and that God loves me, too. But I couldn’t smile or accept her words. I didn’t feel loved. I felt alone. Not to mention, the other kids teased me. They called me a rejected foster kid, and their words tore into my heart without mercy. I stayed in my room for days. Eventually, Dawn made me go into the gym with the other kids. I just sat on the floor, watching them play basketball. I watched them argue over the game, and then it hit me—today was my birthday. I was seven years old. I imagined blowing out candles on a birthday cake. For a moment, I let myself feel happy. But the noise in the gym interrupted my imagination. I looked across the gym and saw Dawn speaking to another woman. “Wait a minute… is that Bre?” Dawn called me over. I stood up and walked toward them. The closer I got, the more certain I became—it was Bre. My heart pounded. I was hurt. I never wanted to see her again. But when I reached them, Bre hugged me so hard and whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry.” She kept hugging me, apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know until I got home,” she whispered. I thought to myself, “Didn’t know what?” Then Bre said, “Get your things.” Did that mean I was going back? Bre repeated herself, “Go get your things.” I glanced at Dawn, who was smiling. She nodded and said, “Joseph, you are loved. You were never supposed to be given back to us.” I was a bit confused, but it didn’t matter. I was going home with Bre again. I ran through the gym and into the dormitory. My things were still packed—I had never unpacked my clothes. The only thing I left behind was my U-turn chase racing track. The guys had teased me about it before, but I remembered how much fun I’d had playing with it. For a second, I thought about taking it with me. Then I realized I wouldn’t be able to carry it. Instead, I unhooked the track from the display, grabbed one of the pieces, and broke it in half. I knew they wouldn’t be able to play with it anymore. I walked back through the gym. The other kids were still playing. Dale saw me and shouted, “Are you leaving?” I didn’t answer. I kept walking toward Dawn and Bre. Dale kept asking where I was going, and then he threw the ball at me. It hit my shoulder, and I dropped my bag. I picked up the ball and launched it into the hoop. It went in—nothing but net. All the kids in the gym yelled, “Wow!” I picked my things back up and left the gym with a smile on my face.

       Bre and I got into the car, and she apologized again. She rubbed the back of my head and said, “I just got back in town. Demetrius decided to bring you back here. This was not a decision I had anything to do with. I’m sorry.” I suddenly realized I might have to deal with Demetrius again, but then she said the most beautiful words I had ever heard: “You will not be seeing Demetrius anymore. I put him out, so it’s just you and me.” I thought to myself, Thank you, God, for an awesome birthday gift. Bre looked at me with a smile on her face and said, “You are loved. You are protected. You have a purpose. You are the Universe’s child.” She stopped at the store and picked up a cake. Before I knew it, we were in the kitchen blowing out candles, and I was eating the cake. Over the next several months, I got comfortable. Sometimes, I would spend the day next door at Ms. Jolly’s apartment while Bre worked. It was fun at Ms. Jolly’s because her grandkids were often there too. The love I felt from Bre—I can still feel it today. I know my father loved me, but it wasn’t the same as a woman’s love. What I didn’t understand then was that Bre needed love too. One night, I woke up to strange noises and moans coming from Bre’s bedroom. I got up to go to the bathroom, and the noises stopped. As I walked back to my room, Bre’s bedroom door suddenly opened, and out came Demetrius. He looked at me but didn’t say anything and then went into the bathroom. I wasn’t sure what to think, so I went back to bed. The next morning, he was gone, but every now and then, I would hear him in the middle of the night. Suddenly, my life took a different direction. I was staying the night at Ms. Jolly’s apartment when I was awakened by a loud noise. I sat up in bed and heard yelling outside. Then, suddenly, there were gunshots. Ms. Jolly ran into the room and said, “Get down! They’re shooting outside!” I heard more shots, followed by windows shattering. The yelling continued, and then I heard a man shout, “Get down on the ground!” It was the police. I was terrified of the police because, up until that point, I had only had bad experiences with them. I knew they had killed my father. Tears streamed down my face as the chaos unfolded outside the door. I must have cried myself to sleep because the next morning, I woke up on the floor. I got up and walked into the living room, where Ms. Jolly was sitting on the couch in deep thought. I asked, “Is everything okay?” She looked at me and said, “Give me a hug.” I hugged her, scared of what she might say next. Ms. Jolly said, “Jo Jo, there were some tragic things that happened last night.” I asked, “Is Bre all right?” Ms. Jolly looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “No, she is not.” I broke down crying, not fully understanding what was going on. Over the next few weeks, the police kept asking me questions about Bre and Demetrius. Finally, I was put back into state custody. I stayed there until I turned eighteen. Ironically, the day I left, there was a march for a kid who had been shot by the police. I got off the bus and joined the march. 

Back to Mr. Chaff’s office/real-time

Joseph reached into his back pocket for his wallet and began to shed tears. He pulls a folded newspaper clipping and hands it to Mr. Chaff. Mr. Chaff opens the clipping.

Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old Black woman, was fatally shot in her apartment when at least seven police officers forced entry into the apartment as part of an investigation into drug dealing operations.

   Shocked, Mr. Chaff says, “I remember when this happened.” Joseph says, “Bre was good. There were no drugs!” Joseph is in tears. “They killed Bre. I heard them shooting. They killed my father, Mr. Chaff. They killed our fathers and then blamed us for not having one.”

 Mr. Chaff says, “Joseph, I’m sorry for your loss.”

 Jasmine looks at Joseph with concern in her eyes and then says, “I’m sorry you went through that.” Joseph continues to hold his head down, wiping the tears from his eyes. Mr. Chaff says, “This is the end of this session. This was our best session yet.” He looks at Jasmine and Joseph. “I’ll see you guys next week.”

 I looked at Joseph. I was so proud of him. I had never seen him open up the way he did today. I have to admit, it turned me on as he and I walked to the parking lot. I felt a bit embarrassed for laughing at him a couple of weeks ago—I didn’t know his story. Watching him show his true feelings did something to me. He never said anything as he was about to get into his car. I said, “Joseph.” He looked up. “I was in Walmart the other day, and you’ll never believe what I found.” I paused, hoping he would get excited, but instead, he just looked at me. Then I said, “I found Legendary Weapons of Kung Fu.” Joseph stood there, and a smile slowly came across his face. “You know how long I’ve been looking for that movie, and you’re telling me you got it?”

I grabbed the Walmart bag off my passenger seat and held it up so he could see. He smiled again. His smile filled my body with love. A smile is not something I am used to seeing from him, and now I’d gotten two smiles in a matter of seconds. I said, “Can I come to watch this movie with you?” Still smiling, he said, “No contact, remember?” I said, “I promise not to touch you.” Joseph laughed and said, “Jasmine, if you need some, just ask.” I laughed and said, “Can I have some?” Joseph laughed again. “You have to promise not to tell Mr. Chaff.”

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When I was a child, my mother always said,
“Nobody owes you shit.” I took that statement to heart and set out to get what was
mine, even if I robbed to get it. I have two kids with my
girlfriend, Stacy. She is a blessing, a very loyal woman
who stayed with me through my four years in the joint,
but there is a conversation we continue to visit, and that
is “Why haven’t you married me?” I try to explain to
her I need time to get things right after my four years.
I’ve had to rebuild everything. I’m close to things going
well on my job at the auto parts store.

I woke up this morning with Stacy standing over
me, holding the phone. I grabbed the phone. My boss
asked me to meet him at the Starbucks; I agreed and
hung up before rolling over and getting more sleep. I
looked at Stacy, who was looking at me with a puzzled
look. I said, “You okay?”

She forced a smile on her face and said, “I’m fine.
Aren’t you getting up to go to work?”
“Mr. Fuqua asked me to meet him later for coffee.”
Stacy leaves the room, and I roll over, hoping to
catch another hour of sleep, but my two girls, Unique
and Rachael, bum-rushed the bedroom. “Daddy! Can
you make us your breakfast casserole?”
“No, let me sleep. Why aren’t you guys at school?”
Rachael says, “Yesterday was our last day.”
“That gives me the entire summer to make you guys
breakfast, but right now, let me sleep.”

I sat at the Starbucks sipping on my French Vanilla
Cappuccino when Mr. Fuqua stepped in. “Hey Niven,
I’m glad you could meet me here.” We shook hands,
and suddenly he said, “I’m going to grab me some coffee” and walked away. I’m still very curious why he
requested me here, but as I’ve learned over the years,
periodically just go with the flow.

I stared out the window to get my mind right for
whatever Mr. Fuqua had to say. I locked eyes with
Rusty as he walked past the Starbucks; Rusty used to be
my cellmate. I suddenly feel tension and anger filling
up in my chest while Rusty looks at me with a smirk on
his face.
Flashback: Stateville Correctional Facility,
Joliet IL
Rusty is standing near the steel toilet with
his back against the wall. Niven walked into
the cell with a trash bag and began moving
things from the wall. Rusty, hoping to get
all of Niven’s attention, says, “In the twelve
hours, you don’t have to small these sweaty
niggas no more.” Niven laughs, “In 12 hours,
my girl will be pregnant, so congratulate me
now. Rusty, get serious. “Say, look, man, we’ve
been cellys for a while.” Rusty signals Niven
to stand near him; Niven faces Rusty with his
back to the cell entrance. “Look, you have
12 hours left in here. Every man is vulnerable here in his last hours, so be careful; any
enemies you’ve made here look out for them.
Any wrong move will keep you in here for
another year.” Niven looks at Rusty, “Man, I
appreciate you,” and shakes his hand. Three
guys tiptoe into the cell and put a blanket over
Niven’s head. Rusty punches Niven and helps
the other guys tackle him to the floor.

Mr. Fuqua sits at the table, looks at me, and said,
“Are you ok?” I must’ve had a puzzled look on my face.
I said, “Yes, I’m a little nervous as to why you
invited me here.”
“Don’t be nervous; it’s a good thing. Are you familiar with Strong Arm Auto parts?”
“Yes, I am.” I sat there, still trying to clear Rusty
out of my mind. Mr. Fuqua, sensing he didn’t have my
attention said, “I need you to listen to me closely; we
are merging with them very soon, and we’re going to
need more supervisors, and I want you to apply.”
I looked at him and said, “Really?”
“Yeah, man, no one knows this information; that’s
why I had you meet me here. We expect the deal to be
official in 90 days.”

I have a smirk on my face as we exit the Starbucks,
feeling good about our conversation, and suddenly out
of nowhere, Rusty appears.
Rusty: You a big-time businessman now, huh?
I can tell he startled Mr. Fuqua. I didn’t respond, but
I was fuming on the inside.

Mr. Fuqua: Excuse me?

Rusty: I’m talking to him.

I looked at Mr. Fuqua and said, “I don’t know this
guy.”

Rusty: You don’t recognize me, my nigga?
Maybe if I gave you another blanket party, you
would feel more comfortable.

I almost hit him, but I had to keep my cool. I again
looked at Mr. Fuqua and said, “Let’s go, before there’s
trouble.”

Mr. Fuqua looks at me and then looks at Rusty and
then back at me and says, “That’s a good idea.”
I was ecstatic and angry at the same time, happy that
Mr. Fuqua thought enough of me to consider me for a
promotion. Mad about Rusty’s punk ass! But trying to
figure out why things happened the way it did. My past
and present clashing right in front of my eyes.

I lay in bed watching Stacy move around this house,
getting the girls settled and ready for bed. I love this
feeling. “Stacy with her sexy ass,” she knows me well
and knows I get a kick out of watching her, so she puts
on an extra seductive walk when she knows I’m looking.
Stacy got in the bed; my dick was hard. Stacy said,
“Can you take off Friday and go to the Clinic with me?”
“Sure,” I said, “where?” She said, “On 21st and Ashland.”
I said, “Okay, but why are you going all the way
over there?”
Stacy looks at me and says, “Because that’s where
the abortion clinic is.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I said, “The girls
are too old to abort.”
Sarcastically Stacy says, “Ha Ha! The one I’m carrying is not.”
I get upset. “Are you fuckin serious right now?”
Stacy sensing my anger, says, “I’m not going to
keep having kids, and we are not married.”
Her words resonated with me. Then I got more
irritated and said, “You could’ve told me you were
pregnant.”
She said, “I just did.” An awkward silence followed
for 10 minutes, and deep down, I knew she was right.
Stacy broke the silence and said, “Are you going, or
what?”
I said, “No!” She looked at me, and then I said,
“Because I’m going to marry you.”
Stacy looked at me with wide eyes and said,
“Really?”

At that very moment, I realized how much it meant
to her, and it gave me great satisfaction to put a smile
on her face. I loved her so much. I then said, “I was offered a supervisory position today; well, they asked
me to apply for it.” “Really!” Stacy said.
I kissed her, “Everything’s coming together.”

On my way to work the following afternoon, I was
at a red light when I looked over and saw Rusty in the
park playing basketball. Damn! “Why the fuck I keep
seeing this dude?” I’ve been trying to work on my spirit,
so I pulled into the parking lot of my job and sat for five
minutes to listen to calm down.

I walked into the store, and it was packed full of
mechanics. I started immediately helping customers
before I punched in. I saw Mr. Fuqua, who I could sense
was watching me. I gave him a thumbs up and continued helping customers.
After an hour of helping customers, the store got
back under control; I ran to the back and punched in. I
just gave my job a free hour of work. I didn’t mind; I
loved my job, and besides, if I was going to be a supervisor, I needed to get used to it.
The punch clock was next to Mr. Fuqua’s office. Mr.
Fuqua sat in his office and said, “Hey Niven,” I said,
“Hello, Mr. Fuqua,” and kept walking.
“Niven, let me speak to you for a second?” Although
I was asked to be a supervisor, I wasn’t trying to be buddies.
dies with Mr. Fuqua, but I felt him trying to get my attention all morning. I stepped into his office and said, “Hey.”
Mr. Fuqua said “I looked in the urban dictionary
to see what a blanket party was; it was alarming,” and
then he handed me what appeared to be an application.
“I need you to fill this out; I have to get your paperwork in ASAP.” I looked at the application, and at the
top, it reads “BACKGROUND CHECK.” Naturally, I
started calculating time and money in my mind. I knew
I only had so long before I was exposed. Mr. Fuqua
said, “They want an extensive background check, for
every new supervisor. Is that a problem?” Damn! How
quickly things change?
“No, not all,” I said. “How long does this process
take?” “Ten days”, he said. I got ten days to get as many
hours as possible, and then I thought about Stacy and
the baby.

I came home with my tail between my legs. It was a
long day for sure. I entered the kitchen, and there was a
brown paper bag and a note that reads:

Hello. Mr. Calvin, I bought you two of them nice
burritos just the way you like them. I had to take the
girls over to your mom’s for the weekend. I’ll see you
when I get home. Your wife

Stacy didn’t waste any time claiming her wife’s status. I have to admit it turned me on. I tore through the
burritos like the last supper. Stacy enters the kitchen.
“Did you enjoy your burritos?”
I said, “Yes, the same way I’m going to enjoy you.”
Stacy says, “Um-hmm, we’ll see.”

Stacy walked out of the kitchen, putting an extra
strut in her walk, but before she could exit, I said,
“Stacy, I need to talk with you about something.”
Stacy looked at me and said, “Call me, Mrs. Calvin.”
I laughed and thought to myself; this is not the time for
reality. Stacy and I made love and went to sleep watching Netflix. When morning arrived, I thought I would
tell her about my job situation.

I was at the kitchen table waiting for her to sit down,
and when she sat, I got straight to the point. “I may be
losing my job in a couple of weeks.”
Stacy sipped her orange juice and said, “Why,
because of your record?”
I was shocked at her response; naturally. I said,
“Why do you say that?”
“If they are thinking about making you a supervisor, they are going to give you an extensive background
check.” I sat there thinking for a second, and then Stacy
said, “Baby, fuck this system. Do your own shit; you
and Jeff were talking about starting your own business
as personal trainers.”

I loved that about Stacy; instead
of feeling sorry for me, she got my mind to work. Stacy
changed the subject and said, “We need to spend some
time with the girls.” I had become so deep in thought
that I ignored her and said I’m going over to Jeff’s house.
Jeff was a friend from high school; he took good care
of his body. I got in good shape while I was in prison.

I knocked on Jeff’s door. He answered with a book in
his hand. He was always reading and researching what
he called the truth and also meditating. I walked in and
said, “Man, what are you reading on this early Saturday
morning?”
He said, “It’s not early. Besides, I do my best reading in the mornings, because it’s peaceful.”
I flopped down on his couch. “Stacy and I are getting married.”
Jeff chuckles and says, “It’s about time. She has
been hanging in there with you.”
I nod my head in agreement. “Yeah, man, she
deserves it.”
“Deserves?” Jeff says, “That’s exactly right.”
I said, “What do you mean?”
Jeff closes his book and says, “Marriage is a gift.
Most men don’t marry women unless they feel she
deserves it; men don’t marry women if they feel they
can do better.” I said, “Women feel the same way.”
Jeff looks at me and says, “But it’s not the same. The
reason why it’s not the same is that men and women
look at marriage very differently; women look at marriage as a ‘rite of passage.’ Men look at marriage as an
achievement.” Damn! I thought to myself, and he hit it on the nail;
that’s how I feel about Stacy.
Jeff then said, “Everything you’re doing right now
you are doing for Stacy.”
Confused, I said, “What am I doing.”
Jeff looked at me and said, “I can tell you what
you are not doing. You’re not robbing people anymore.
Stacy has made you a better man.”
I was not in the mood for Jeff to get preachy, so I
changed the conversation. “What are you reading?”
“This book is called Celestine Prophecy, it talks about
being able to see and read energy, and following the right
signs. It’s an excellent book. You should read it.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get all my enlightenment from
you.” I cracked up, laughing, and said, “Remember
when we were talking about starting an exercise class?”
Jeff said, “Hold up,” and reached and grabbed a stack of papers off his desk, held them in front of me,
and said, “Bam!” It was a stack of flyers advertising a
workout class at the Angela Davis community center.
Jeff said, “I decided to do it, whether you were in or out;
what’s up with your job?”
I wasn’t exactly in the mood to try to explain it, so
I said.” I decided to leave in the next couple of weeks. I
wanted to do my own thing.”
Jeff smiled and said, “Well, my brother, we have a
lot of hustling to do” and handed me the stack of flyers.
I had ten days left at my job. I decided I would give
out flyers before and after work.

I went to pick up the
girls from my parents. When I walked into the house,
my dad and Rachael played Connect Four, and my mom
and Unique was playing UNO. I sat back and watched
before making my presence known.
I walked in and said, “It’s time to go.”
Rachael got up and put on her shoes, but before
Unique got up, my mother said, “Hold on, Unique.”
My mother stood up and slammed a card onto the table
and said, “POW!” She looks at the ceiling and says,
“Changed the color to red” and threw all of her red
cards on the table. She looked at her granddaughter and
says, “Now you can go.” She cracked up laughing.
I said, “Momma, you going to hell for treating my
daughter like that.” Mom said, “That’s okay. I hope the devil can play
Uno better than her.”I look at the girls and say, “Make sure you get everything cause I’m not coming back.” The girls run off into another room. Mom, Dad, and I sit at the living room
table. I thought to myself, while we are all sitting here, I
might as well tell them. I said, “Stacy is pregnant.”
My mother said,” Are you going to marry this girl?”
I said, “As a matter of fact, I am.”
My dad looked at me and said, “Are you sure you
know what you are doing?” “I’m sure I will be okay,” I was a little offended by
his question. “Dad, I just want to get my shit together;
excuse my language, but that’s the truth.” My dad
looked at me like he understood.

I gathered the girls and went home, and over the
next several days, I worked as many hours as I could.
After long days at work, I would make sure I passed out
flyers. After doing this for a few days, I was exhausted.

Today I left work a little early, went home, and was hoping to get to bed a little early. I got out of the shower, and
Stacy was sitting on the bed. Stacy said, “We haven’t
spent much time with the girls.”
I was thinking, “Shit, it won’t be tonight.
Stacy then said, “Let’s take them swimming.”
I looked at her and said, “Tonight?”
She said, “Yes, they have night swimming at the
community center.”
I looked at the time and said, “It’s almost 8 o’clock.”
Stacy looked at me, and I know what that look means.
It means if I don’t get my ass up and go swimming, I
will have to deal with a cold shoulder from Stacy for the
next week.
Stacy said, “They closed at ten.”
I casually said, “Let’s go.”

We pulled up to the center, and my phone rang. It
was a potential student for our class. Stacy waved at
me and softly said, “We’ll be inside.” She and the kids
went inside.

A second later, I got off the phone, and my favorite
song came on the radio. I decided I would go in after my
song went off, but Stacy and the kids came back to the
car before I knew it. Puzzled, I said, “What’s wrong?”
Stacy gave me a stern look and, with attitude, said,
“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
I said, “Why did you and the girls come back to the
car?”Stacy gave a long pause and said, “We were in there
for two hours!”

I looked at the time, and sure enough, it was two
hours later. I fell asleep. Stacy was furious.
The next day I walked off the job; I wasn’t going
to wait for them to fire me. This was the second job I
lost since getting out a year ago, but I felt good about
working for myself besides the response Jeff and I were
getting had me extra excited to get started.
I’ve been sleeping on the couch. Stacy was a little
upset with me because I haven’t spent much time with
girls lately. It didn’t bother me because in order to make
things work, something will suffer. I hate that it had
to be my babies, but it’s now or never. I have changed
my life so much since meeting Stacy. I robbed so many
people before I met her that I eventually had to do some
time. Rachael was five, and Unique was 6. Stacy gave
me a different focus on life, and suddenly I see the
importance of family. Since I decided to marry her and
she was pregnant again, I was more determined than
ever to provide for her and the kids. It gave me a sense
of purpose. Stacy walks in and sits next to me on the
couch and says, “You can sleep in the bedroom tonight.
I promise not to bite you (pause) this time.”
I laughed and said, “you sure?”
Stacy smiled and said, “Yes, but promise me after
your first class that you will spend some time with girls?” of course, I will.” Stacy grabbed my hand and led
me to the bedroom.

Dream:
Niven and Stacy enter the Starbucks barefoot,
Stacy is in a wedding dress, and Niven stands
there in a tux. Niven is ankle-deep in thick
mud. He looks to his left and sees Mr. Fuqua
standing there. He looks to his right and sees
Rusty. Niven immediately tries to run toward
rusty, but the mud is too thick for him to move.
Niven struggles and gets loose from the soil,
and his feet are clean; he begins to make his
way toward Rusty when four nuns walk into
the Starbucks barefoot. The nuns were white,
but their feet were black.

I woke up late for my first class, so I didn’t have time
to shower. I was nervous and anxious at the same time.
I officially started my own business. I wanted to be self-sufficient and didn’t have to worry about background
checks. Being in business for myself means I control my
destiny. On my way out the door, Stacy gave me a big
kiss and hug. I love her so much, and she is so positive.
I pulled up to the Angela Davis Center and saw

Jeff’s truck that gave me some sense of relief. I walked
into the center. I walked to our designated room and
stood outside for a second, and took a deep breath. I
heard Jeff giving instructions. I walked into the room
and was shocked. I stood there, not believing my eyes,
all the hard work and calls I got about this class; only
one person showed up. I felt discouraged. Jeff looked at
me and said, “Hey man, this is Yolanda.”
I looked at her, smiled, and said, “Hello.”
Jeff saw the look of disappointment on my face and
then said, “Everything is a process.”

I went home, and all I could think about is the reality of my situation; I understand everything is a process,
but Stacy is pregnant. I need to make something happen
now. That muthafucker Rusty fucked everything up for
me! Everything was fine until I ran into him.
For the next two weeks, I continued to go to class,
and by the third week, we lost the one person we had.
I was deep in thought while Stacy was cooking. Stacy
kept looking at me smiling; it’s like she had already
prided herself as a wife and mother. If a woman understood what it means to a man to provide for his family,
I could not do it today. I decided to move on from the
personal training class, which means I need to have an
uncomfortable talk with Stacy tonight.

Stacy, sensing my distance, sat across from me at
the table, eating quietly while the kids laughed and
played over their food. I said, “Stacy, Jersey called me.”
Stacy takes a deep breath, looks at me, and begins
cleaning the table, and tells the girls to get ready for
bed. I sat there and continued eating. Stacy got the kids
in bed and came back to the table, and sat across from
me. “Jersey called and what?” “I’m going to meet with him in a couple of days.”
Stacy looked at me with pure disappointment and
said, “You’re sure in a rush to get back in the streets;
Jersey is bad news. He always gets you to do his dirty
work for him.”

I quickly said, “Stacy, we are running out of money.”
Stacy yelled, “We are not starving, if you go back to
jail I will not wait on you this time!”
The conversation was not going in the direction I
had hoped, and I had something more to say. I had to
get up the nerve to say it. While Stacy sat there huffing
and puffing. I said, “Stacy, there is something we need
to talk about.” She said, “What’s that?” I sat silent. I had to get up
the nerve to say it. Stacy says, “What is it?”
I looked her in the eye and said, “I think you should
get the abortion.”

Book now available http://www.BlackBooksForUs.com

   That night, I cried because it occurred to me that no one wants Black people to have anything, no matter how much we pay in taxes or try to legitimize ourselves. So, I got out of bed, called my friend Steve, and we burned the Seo-Jun store to the ground. Three days later, Naomi called me and told me that the distributor had contacted her, offering all the supplies she wanted. Naomi was having her grand opening in two weeks. Naomi was happy, and I was happy.

Joseph says, “How can you be happy sitting in here?”

     Rovina takes a deep breath and looks at Joseph. “What good is all the marching if you don’t get results? What’s the point of Black people complaining if none of us are willing to sacrifice for the greater good of our people? I’d rather sit here happy knowing that I helped a Black-owned business open in my community than be out there. The only regret I have is that I was in here and not taking care of Beverly. She died with that no-good son of hers. Melvin is no good. He was waiting for her to die. I caught him twice trying to steal money from her. Melvin is a poor excuse for a man.”

     “I know you and I have differences of opinion, but, Joseph, we’re not that much different from each other. You have to be willing to sacrifice for your people.”Joseph says, “What does that mean? I’ve been to jail and beaten by the police.”

  Rovina replies, “But then you bond out, and your wounds heal, and you fight again. My question to you is: Are you willing to kill, die, or even be locked up for your people? Because that’s what real change is. Malcolm, Martin, and Fred Hampton—they made sacrifices for their people. Are you willing to do that?”

Rovina and Joseph sit silently for a second, and then Rovina says, “Thank you for coming to see me.” She gets up and leaves the room. 

From the book “The Nurse & The Poet”

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I came in from school one afternoon and went to my bedroom.  The room was spotless. “What the hell happened in here?” I thought about the guns I had in the closet.  I checked the closet and the guns were gone. I looked around the room and on top of my dresser was a sawed-off shotgun and a rifle. The same guns I had hidden in the corner of the closet for several months. I thought to myself, “Damn, momma been in here.”  I wasn’t sure what to do. She was in her bedroom. Do I wait for her to come to me about the guns? Should I say something first? Why isn’t she in here yelling at me about these guns? Clearly, she wanted me to know that she knew they were here. Therefore, she put them on top of the dresser.

My mother never said anything to me about the guns.  She knew I was home.  She left it up to me to figure it out. I eventually went to her and said the guns didn’t belong to me. She made me take the guns out of her house.  I hid them in an abandoned car that was in our backyard. You would think the situation was done and over, right?

Well, no, not really.  About a week later, I came home from visiting a friend. I heard that a man was beaten badly because he was caught trying to break into my mother’s car.  The man was beaten by members of my gang. They protected me even though I was not around.  They knew it was my mother’s car and they beat his ass. When I got home, my mother asked me if was in a gang.  She told me the same story about a man being beaten for trying to break into her car. 

Fast forward a few days. I was at the store and I had an argument with some guys.  It was nothing serious.  I went home and a couple of my homies came over. We were in the front room talking.  All of the sudden, a 40-ounce bottle came crashing through the window. Glass was everywhere.  My mother came into the front room and looked at the broken window.  I saw the disappointment on her face and she blamed me for what happened.  She knew about the argument I had with some guys a few days earlier.  She knew I wasn’t telling her everything. At this point, there is nothing more I could say to convince my mother I wasn’t in the streets. She had all the evidence she needed.

My brother and I made things very hard for my mother.  My brother was getting into more fights and scuffles than I was.  We were two young boys who were very active in the Chicago streets. When we reached a certain age, our mother was unable to control us.

Unfortunately, my mother passed before she got the chance to know the man I am today. However, before she passed, she told everyone that I was a good writer. Yes, I heard those words come out of her mouth. I don’t know why she said it. How did she know? Maybe she saw the real me and knew the street life was temporary. But one thing is for sure… she was right.

The Point↓

Our path is our path.  It is up to us to evolve and create new beginning.

Written by D-Revolution

Order my books here: www.BlackBooksForUs.com BlackBooks For United States

Click here to watch my new book trailer “Surviving Chicago”

This is what I remember. I would call Dale and say, have you talked to Tanya he would say, “Yes, but she is full of shit. This conversation would happen every few days. Finally, I said, “Man, you haven’t fucked her yet? He would say that every time I thought I was going to hit it, she changed her mind. He explained to me he went to her place, and it was a waste of his time because she didn’t want to do it. I would laugh at him, and agree by saying, “these bitches are good for wasting time.” Before I move on, I must say that at the time I was in the streets and my mentality was very disrespectful and niggerish.

Dale was not a street guy he was someone I knew from elementary school. He lived in a home with his entire family. Mom. grandmom, aunt, and even his grandfather. They all lived under one roof. The reason I bring this up is that after he told me about the exchange between him and Tanya, I knew immediately that he raped her, but he made it seem like it was just another girl he fucked. As a man with a street mentality, I was smart enough to know what he had done, and I knew the type of girl Tanya was that she would not be quiet about it. 

This is what happened. Dale told me he was going to Tanya’s house, and that they were going to fuck. When I called him the next day, this is the conversation we had. 

Me: Did you hit it?”

Dale:  Yes.

Me: Was it good?

Dale: It was cool

Me: Was she naked when you got there?

Dale: No, she was just getting out of the shower. She had her robe on. I grabbed her and pinned her down and hit it. It was no way I was going to waste my time.

I was on the other end of the phone. I said nothing, but I was very uncomfortable because I knew instantly that it was rape, but I don’t think he saw it that way. So, “I said, what did you say when you got up?” He said, “I looked at her and said, “Girl, you crazy.”  We hung up, but I thought to myself, I think he raped her, now at the time I had only seen rapes in the movies where a man beat their victims and I knew Dale didn’t do that so now I’m questioning if it was really rape or not, but the way he explained it to me it sounded like rape to me. About a week later, Dale’s mother calls me and told me Dale was picked up for sexual assault. Sexual assault? What the fuck is that? “Oh, Shit! What he did to Tanya!” His mother is asking me questions about what happened. I said, “I don’t know. I just hooked them up. The core of me knew Dale was wrong, but he was my best friend and I felt bad for him because I knew he was in trouble I also knew Tanya felt what I felt from the story I was told, but this is what I’m sorry for at the time it meant more to me to be loyal to my friend than to protect the girl I grew up with that I’ve known longer. 

It’s also fucked up that a second time Dale’s mother called me, she tried to put it on me and asked me, “Why I wasn’t in jail?” This really made me feel like I did something wrong. “No, it was your fuckin son!” I don’t take pussy that’s not given to me. At that moment, I saw the truth. I was in the hood living poor, so it was easy to blame me. How dare my son get arrested and not you, “You are the trashy hood nigga! She didn’t say that, but that’s how she made me feel.

Weeks passed when the district attorney called me to hear my side of the story. I threw Tanya under the bus. I wanted to protect my friend, although he was wrong. This is what I’m sorry for because it never occurred to me what Tanya had to live with all these years. My actions were guilty of being the one who hooked them up, and now his mother is blaming me. This made me throw Tanya under the bus to free Dale.

Dale and I stayed friends for many years after the incident. We are no longer friends simply because the same attitude his mother had about him then is the man he has become, meaning he does things with no consequence. He’s a momma’s boy and never wanted to grow up. I treated Tanya the way they treated me. Tanya was in the hood with me, and that’s how I treated the situation. Tanya and I were both victims of classism. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but I want to say I’m sorry for my role in that situation. When you know better, you do better. (A SIDENOTE) FROM MY UNDERSTANDING WHEN THEY PICKED DALE UP HE ACTED A FOOL! The court dismissed the charges.

The point

Tanya, I’m sorry, and thank you for still allowing me to be your friend all these years. Hopefully, I will see you again one day.

Written by D-Revolution

please check out my books At www.blackbooksforus.com

Please check out the book trailer for my book “Surviving Chicago”

https://youtu.be/PkAnqkmvao4

As I was led to jail, I was instructed to keep my hands behind my back. I was instructed to talk with a child psychologist. They thought I was crazy. I had a bad temper. I had lashed out in violence previously and now things had caught up with me. I was afraid and alone. When I got in trouble in the past, my mother would threaten to send me away to a boarding school.  That scared me because I didn’t want to be shipped away.  However, this time, she chose to teach me a lesson.  She told the judge to keep me.

I was locked in a room with other boys.  The entire time I sat there, I kept telling myself I was not bad nor crazy. I couldn’t do anything except what they told me to do. They convinced me that I had a problem. I was starting to believe it.  But the truth is, I had made a mistake.  Although I didn’t know it at that moment, this short time in juvenile would have an impact on my life for many years. I felt alone and abandoned. I felt a shift in my personality.

I was in jail for aggravated assault. I tried to stab someone with a knife. I lost my temper and I thought I was protecting myself. I believed that no one cared about how I felt.  In court, no one asked me any questions about what really happened.

While in jail, I gained more courage and began to speak up for myself.  I realized that once I started speaking up for myself, I was able to control my temper. One huge aspect of my personality, that no one understands, is that I’m not afraid of anything. Yes, I do fear things, but I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid to take chances. I’m not afraid to lose friends. I’m not afraid of what people think of me. I’m not afraid to fight if I have to. Even now, I fight to be treated fairly in every situation.

In the same breath, I do fear fighting. I fear losing friends. I fear other people’s thoughts of me. I never have malicious intentions of any kind, but I am often misunderstood because of my lack of fear. So, I speak my mind and I face the fear of losing a friend, but I am not afraid. I hope you understand.

While I sat juvenile, a transition in my thinking happened naturally.   I no longer cared about how anyone felt.  I noticed I was getting different responses from people when I spoke up for myself with honesty and truth. It’s part of my personality to not be afraid of the repercussions of being honest.

On visiting day in juvenile, I watched other parents visit their children. Since my mother had asked the judge to keep me, I felt neglected.  One day, I heard my name called indicating I had a visitor.  To my surprise, my mother had come and she brought me chocolate milk and donuts. This moment had a huge impact on me because my aggravated assault case was against her.  My mother was the person I tried to stab.

When she visited me, I will never forget how I felt.  Her actions showed me that you can be fair to those who have wronged you. I was so happy to see my mother sitting across from me as if I had not done anything. I needed her. Since she found the will and the love to come and see me, I had to give her something in return. I apologized for my actions.  To this day, I am honest when I deal with people. I am not afraid of losing a friend or a job or anything, as long as I’m true to myself.

The point

If someone believes you have wronged them, there is nothing that you can say or do to convince them otherwise.  But the important thing is that you apologize.  Doing that will go a long way towards maintaining a genuine friendship and relationship. Transparency is king.

Written by D-Revolution

Buy my books here www.blackbooksforus.com

Check out my new book trailer “Surviving Chicago”

ReplyForward

I came outside, got in her car and we hugged. I said, “Betty, take me to get something to eat.” She said, “Ok, we can eat together.” It was Saturday night and I wanted a greasy cheeseburger. I said, “take me to Burger King.” Betty said, “no, we are going to eat something healthy.” I said, “Betty, I’ve been healthy all week, I want some Burger King.” Betty ignored me and insisted on finding somewhere healthy we could eat. I said, “See Betty, this is why I didn’t want you to come over. You will not have me in this car all night.”  She said, “Ok, I’ll take you to Burger King. But I will not eat Burger King.” I thought to myself, “I don’t give a fuck what you eat.” After we exited the drive thru, Betty said, “I want some Chinese food.” I said, “There’s a spot right down the street.” In my mind, I’m thinking, “Cool, this is almost over.  I’m ready to get back home and chill.” As we got closer to the Chinese restaurant in my neighborhood, she said, “I don’t want to eat here. Do you mind if I go to my favorite spot?” Being polite, I said, “Ok. Besides, I’m eating.” I guess it would be rude of me to say no. You won’t believe what this bitch did!  She drove all the way to Cool Springs to go to her favorite Chinese spot. I’m fuming on the inside. After we parked, she looked in the restaurant and notices an Asian woman.  Betty says, “I can’t go in there.”

Me: Why Not?

Betty: I know her. She knows my family.

Me: What are you going to do?

Betty: I’m going to order from the app and you can go in and get it for me.

My phone was on the charger in the car. Before I got out of the car, I grabbed my phone, just in case she tried to leave me. When I grabbed my phone, Betty said, “You are so Chicago.” Understanding how I move and what I was thinking, I said, “Yeah, I have to think ahead.” I went into the restaurant, got her food and came back to the car.  I’m thinking to myself, “ok, now take me home.” She starts her car, but she never leaves the parking lot.  She moved to a different parking space and starts eating. This is my friend. I’m trying extra hard to be polite. Besides, I have not seen her in years. But, I’m so annoyed!  While she was eating, I stared out my window. I know Betty and she hasn’t changed. It felt like there had not been a gap in our friendship. While eating, she talks about sex and how long it’s been since she had it. Again, I’m very disciplined, so I didn’t really engage in the conversation. And then she says something about pulling out her titties. I ignored her and she said, “I know you heard me.” I looked at her and asked “Are you done eating?” She put her food to the side and says, “Yes, I will finish the rest later.” Betty starts the car and says, “Do you want to look at some Christmas lights?” “Betty, take me home.” She said, “Okay I will, but let’s go look at some Christmas lights.” Betty drove to a Brentwood neighborhood. We saw some huge houses that were decorated with pretty lights. It was nice to see. I remembered how my mom would take me and my siblings to look at Christmas lights when we lived in Chicago.

There was just one problem in the neighborhood…there were no street lights.  That is something I never understood about living in the south. I’m a city guy.  I’m used to seeing street lights. As we are riding through the neighborhood down a dark road, a car pulls up behind us and wants to pass us. The driver was on Betty’s bumper. I said, “pull over and let this muthafucka pass us.” Betty said, “No, I’m driving the speed limit. Fuck him he needs to drive to speed limit!” Now my PTSD kicks in. I know how things can get ugly really fast. This guy was clearly frustrated. Betty grew up as middle class in Los Angeles, CA. Betty has no hood in her at all. Betty refused to pull over.  We got to a corner, turned left and the guy turned in the opposite direction. I said to myself, “This bitch is crazy. She got me in Brentwood on back roads and shit when I told her that I didn’t want to be in the car all night.” I am still trying to be polite. So, I sat quietly.  She pointed to a house that she used to live in. It’s very important to point out that the entire time we are riding, she is constantly talking to me about doing business with her. I began to feel dizzy as we are going around blocks and blocks to look at houses. It was dark and we had made so many turns. I was getting more dizzy.  I told her I had to pee and asked her to stop at a gas station. She said, “Ok, but I’m not sure how to get back to the main road.” I wanted to strangle this bitch! “Betty, didn’t you just show me where you used to live? How do you not know how to get out of here?” She says, “They’ve changed things so much, I’m not sure.” It’s now little after 10pm and we been in the car for a while.  I’m dizzy, I have to pee and I’m tired as fuck. I didn’t sleep well the night before. I said, “Find somewhere to pull over, I need to pee.” She  said, “No, I’m going to get us out of here.” Finally, Betty got us back to the main road we stopped at a Shell station. When I went into the Shell station, I thought about calling a Lyft. Seriously, I was thinking “fuck this bitch…surely she’s going to take me home now.” When I get back in the car, she pulls into a parking spot, pulls out her phone and starts showing me videos on Instagram. I thought to myself, “I’m about to tear this muthafucking car up!” I was about to snap and kick her dashboard in!  But, I had not seen her in a long time. So instead, I said, “Betty, take me home!” Finally, on the way home, Betty sensed I was annoyed. But for some reason, she couldn’t understand and she acted like I was tripping.  When we got to my house, she said “D-Rev, let me give you hug. I didn’t mean to upset you.” We hugged and she left. I didn’t answer her calls over the next week because I was trying to figure out if I wanted to be bothered with her self-centered bullshit. I love Betty. I’ve always had some type of connection with her. Finally, when we spoke, I went off on her about the shit she pulled and she simply didn’t understand my frustration.

The next time we talked, Betty asked me what I was doing for Christmas. I told her I was going to watch Christmas movies and eat cookies. She got excited and said, “I’ll make you some cookies and come over,” and then she kind of jokingly talked about fucking and hanging out. I was simply excited to have some company on Christmas. I usually spend the holidays by myself and it doesn’t feel good. I was really looking forward to hanging out with her to eat cookies and whatever else. But, when it was close to the time she was supposed to be here, she called and said she was going to be an hour late. After an hour, I called her to see where she was. There was no answer. I decided I wasn’t going to give Betty another minute of my time. I blocked her number and deleted her from Facebook. I had to make a decision that I didn’t want this type of energy in my life.

The point↓

Be very cautious of the energy you bring into someone’s life. Also, if you want to do business, energy is important. At this point in my life, I try to take the high road.  I ultimately decided that I didn’t want extra drama in my life. Much love Betty. I hope we can connect down the road at some point and that’s that.

Wriiten by D-Revolution

Buy my books here: www.blackbooksforus.com

Mark and I turn the corner back to our street and there was this mob of people walking towards us. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but then I saw Edward and then it occurred to me that were looking for me. I crossed the street, still unsure if this mob was for me. I know this dude didn’t go get his whole family for me. As I crossed the street, they crossed the street. So I stopped walking. His family began yelling things, and they made Edward fight me. Oh, but what they didn’t know is I had some pretty good hands and Edward was losing the fight. Suddenly, his sister jumped in and another family member, all Mark could do, was stand there. When they all started jumping in. I tried to run, but one of them pulled on my T-shirt as I was trying to run. I eventually got away, but my t-shirt was half torn off my body. I walked in the back door of my house. My sister said, “Are you ok?” I played it off and said, “Yeah, why did you ask me that? She said, Cause you got all red marks on your body, and your shirt is torn up.

This was an early lesson for me in the streets. Be very careful about who you fuck with. You just can’t fuck with everybody. I started trouble and got jumped by this guy’s entire family. Another lesson I learned is when you are in a position where someone leaves before you. It gives them the advantage of coming back and doing harm to you. If I get into it with someone at a party and they leave the party I leave too, because once they leave they have all the options to come back and do whatever. 

I never thought Edward was going to come back, because he said nothing, and I didn’t know him and learned after his family jumped me he lived on the corner of my block. It was a lesson learned for me. Over the years Edward and I never spoke even after we got older. We never spoke for years after that day, but I tried to get with his sister who jumped in. Fight. At this point, many years passed. In particular, I remember her jumping in. I wanted my revenge. I was going to get it by fucking her. Yeah, but that didn’t quite work out. I don’t think she ever forgot how we met me years prior. Edward and I were young adults and never spoke or got to know each other. Every time I would see him, it felt like we relived that moment in time and thought it was easier not to speak.

The Point↓

I got my ass whuped.

Written by D-Revolution

Check out my books www.blackbooksforus.com

Check out my new book trailer Surviving Chicago https://youtube.com/shorts/Stj5r8IHKI0

The host announced they were having technical difficulties and said there’d be a brief intermission.

Malek turned to me. “Did you agree with that poet?”
I said, “Yes, but I didn’t agree with his anger.”
He asked, “Why not?”
“I don’t think anger is necessary, especially when it’s misplaced. My husband has all this anger with no results, so the anger never stops—it just gets redirected at me.”
Malek asked, “What do you mean by that?”
I didn’t want to talk about it, but I needed to. After a moment of silence, I said, “My husband is an activist. He spends his days marching. He’s angry all the time, and sometimes he takes that anger out on me.”
Malek looked at me thoughtfully. “Counsel and advise him. If he refuses to listen, let adversity teach him.”
I replied, “Adversity seems to drive him more.”
Malek said, “A man who uses force is afraid of reasoning. Only a fool tests the depth of a river with both feet.”
I sighed. “I guess my husband is a fool.”

The host returned to the stage. “We’d like to introduce our next poet, a regular here at Lyric Bar. Put your hands together for Binky!” A woman approached the microphone. “This is a poem I’m sure many women can relate to,” she began.

AFTER HE SWORE, HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE HE SLAMMED HER FACE AGAINST A GLASS DOOR

HE WAS CREATED TO BE THE MAN WOMEN COULD LOVE AND ADORE

YET HE BECAME THE MAN WHO LEAVES HIS WIFE BEATEN AND BATTERED IN A POOL OF BLOOD ON THE

KITCHEN FLOOR

HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE; AFTER HE BROKE HER WING SO SHE WOULDN’T SOAR.

A DESECRATED PROM QUEEN WITH SHATTERED DREAMS OF PALM TREES AND SHINY LIMOUSINES

DEFERRED FAIRYTALES: HIS INSECURITIES MADE HER LIFE A LIVING HELL

SHE HAD NO ONE TO TURN TO; NO ONE TO TELL; WHEN HER EYES WERE BLACK AND HER HIPS BEGAN.

TO SWELL

HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE; BECAUSE HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE WATCHING HIS.

FATHER BEAT HIS MOTHER EVERY NOON AND NIGHT

HE WAS HAUNTED WITH MEMORIES THAT LEFT HIM BROKEN FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE

HE SAID HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE THE DAY AFTER THEY HAD A KID

BUT IT INTENSIFIED HE NEVER TOOK RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE THINGS HE DID

HE SAID HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE THOSE WERE HIS WORDS; AFTER HE CRACKED HER RIBS AND.

LEFT HER CRYING ON THE CURB

SHE LOOKED AT HER DAUGHTER AND THOUGHT ABOUT LOVE BEING A VERB; HER HALLUCINATIONS.

STARTED TO SWERVE; SHE BECAME INSANE DUE TO THE WORDS SHE HEARD; THE PROMISES HE MADE.

SHE KNEW HER BABY HAD TO BE PROTECTED FROM HIM; THE VOICES SAID THE BABY HAD TO BE SAVED.

 THE NEXT DAY THEY FOUND A TINY BODY FACEDOWN IN A SHALLOW GRAVE

SHE NO LONGER SPEAKS; SHE REMOVED HER TONGUE WITH A RUSTED NAIL; SHE WILL FOREVER BE.

ROCKING BACK AND FORWARD SHATTERED IN A JAIL CELL

HER LIFE BECAME A TRAP DOOR BECAUSE HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE

 AFTER HE SWORE, HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE HE SLAMMED HER FACE AGAINST A GLASS DOOR

HE WAS CREATED TO BE THE MAN WOMEN COULD LOVE AND ADORE

YET HE BECAME THE MAN WHO LEAVES HIS WIFE BEATEN AND BATTERED IN A POOL OF BLOOD ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR

HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE; AFTER HE BROKE HER WING SO SHE WOULDN’T SOAR.

A DESECRATED PROM QUEEN WITH SHATTERED DREAMS OF PALM TREES AND SHINY LIMOUSINES

DEFERRED FAIRYTALES:HIS INSECURITIES MADE HER LIFE A LIVING HELL

SHE HAD NO ONE TO TURN TO; NO ONE TO TELL; WHEN HER EYES WERE BLACK AND HER HIPS BEGAN TO SWELL.

HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE; BECAUSE HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE WATCHING HIS FATHER BEAT HIS MOTHER EVERY NOON AND NIGHT.

HE WAS HAUNTED WITH MEMORIES THAT LEFT HIM BROKEN FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE

HE SAID HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE THE DAY AFTER THEY HAD A KID

BUT IT INTENSIFIED HE NEVER TOOK RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE THINGS HE DID

HE SAID HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE THOSE WERE HIS WORDS; AFTER, HE CRACKED HER RIBS AND LEFT HER CRYING ON THE CURB.

SHE LOOKED AT HER DAUGHTERAND THOUGHT ABOUT LOVE BEING A VERB; HER HALLUCINATIONS STARTED TO SWERVE; SHE BECAME INSANE DUE TO THE WORDS SHE HEARD; THE PROMISES HE MADE.

SHE KNEW HER BABY HAD TO BE PROTECTED FROM HIM; THE VOICES SAID THE BABY HAD TO BE SAVED.

THE NEXT DAY THEY FOUND A TINY BODY FACEDOWN IN A SHALLOW GRAVE

SHE NO LONGER SPEAKS; SHE REMOVED HER TONGUE WITH A RUSTED NAIL; SHE WILL FOREVER BE ROCKING BACK AND FORWARD SHATTERED IN A JAIL CELL.

HER LIFE BECAME A TRAP DOOR BECAUSE HE SWORE HE WOULDN’T HIT HER ANYMORE…

     I choked up a bit after hearing her poem. As I finished my second glass of wine, a tear rolled down my face, but I quickly wiped it away before Malek could see. I hadn’t realized how much pain I was carrying until I heard that poem.

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There is a battle between “Evolution and Illusion”. I think it’s safe to say that most people are losing this battle to illusion hence the vanity of ourselves. In recent conversations with my sister I realize how annoyed I am speaking with her. I realize how disconnected she is from God (although she claims to be a Christian). When I say disconnected I mean spiritually lacking understanding that all things are connected. Somehow in my sister’s mind she is this grand corporate working professional, but that’s not the case, but I’ll get back to that in a second. The one thing about life is that we can spend the entire time trying to be something we’re not or chasing an idea of who we think we are.

“I forgive everybody.” That’s what my sister said in a telephone conversation. I almost laughed. Relatives are calling me because you owe them money, you lost your man, your best friend of twenty plus years doesn’t deal with you and your storage was seized (losing all of my mother’s items). Six months ago you came to Nashville broke from a homeless shelter with nothing, but you forgive everybody? Where is the evolution in that? Have you asked for forgiveness? Maybe you should start there. I’ve learned when we as human beings learn to be grateful even in our struggle that opens the door for true evolution.

Evolution is seeing things for what they are and not what you want them to be. We spend a vast majority of our life chasing a dream or a character that is not meant for us. Then we find ourselves not liking the ones who have found success in their purpose. STOP THE PRESSES! IT’S “THEIR PURPOSE” NOT YOURS. Maybe my sister should stop searching and trying to live an idea of who she thinks she is and start living life with a purpose that doesn’t involve entitlement.

Purpose has nothing to do with titles or how much money you make. This is a mistake that we make as human beings. We judge ourselves based on how we look standing next to someone else, but most of the time the person we’re standing next to has mastered the art of illusion. Therefore we become envious or jealous because of what we think someone else has. The truth is I realize I don’t know my sister because she doesn’t know who she is and she tries so hard to prove she is something that she is obviously not. When my sister moved here 6 months ago I had not heard from her in over a year, but she comes here with nothing and my ego wanted to laugh and say “That’s what you get.” I am not that man that would do that so instead I went to the store and bought her some items that she needed. I offered her my other car for job interviews and gave her money when she asked. All the while I had a bitter taste in my mouth because I knew my sister didn’t understand how and why she was in this situation to begin with.

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I use my sister as a perfect example of an evolution reject. It’s never too late to evolve. Take harsh lessons and see the good in them. Grow from them. Stop blaming everyone else for your issues. Stop being so defensive. Stop making excuses. For once take a moment and say “I can do better. I’m the reason things didn’t work out.” I truly believe the universe waits for us to recognize these moments and the more of these moments that are recognized the more doors open for you. The more you learn who you are and the closer you move toward your purpose.

The Point↓
The Universe is constantly trying to guide you toward your purpose and evolution. I always say the Universe is like a GPS. It will give you direction but if you continue to go down the wrong road the Universe will redirect you. But if you don’t listen the GPS will go silent and you’ll find yourself at a dead end.

Written by D-Revolution

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