A Leeer To My Brother
Miguel
By D’Angelo Garcia
“Until the lion writes his own story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” The Soy Autor writing process was developed in collaboration with young affected by violence in El Salvador. In 2017, this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds, expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated.Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, and positive self-projection to create new life narratives.
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A Letter To My Brother Miguel D’Angelo Garcia
Dear Miguel, Well I know this is the first me I’m wriing you. I can explain that this wasn’t easy for me to write. I want to start by saying what’s up? How you doing big bro? I hope you are good. I really want to know how you handled yourself since you’ve been incarcerated. Just to think you did more me in the hole than I’ve been locked up. I want to know, because I’m losing my mind and everything I have.
When I try to get my mind off everything in here, people complain. It pisses me off because people should worry about their self, and not other people. I lost people I love, cars, the house and more. I can’t even talk about it.
Now I’m in CCDOC where a noodle is a dollar.
I mean you know a liile about it. I am tripping over things like not having an out date. Am I coming home soon? I’m only 21. I’ve had two birthdays in jail. I’m not complaining, I just didn’t think I was going to spend my 21st birthday like this. You know, in jail with people I could really care less about, instead of the people I love that I would give up my life for.
I can’t remember the last me we even hung out or talked to each other face to face. I do remember parts of my life when I was younger - like when the first me we smoked together. I know you remember. When me and mom went to go visit you, Sammy, the kids and Gramma.
You used to pick on me to make me tough, but I thought you were just picking on me. So I would go tell Mom. Then one day it all stopped. as ssll up. w n u s e th me and s summerr a w It . h I was rc nt liile po ike always, L o . fr rs t a u o th h n n ll o r seve We were a ost gone fo lm -a tu o mmy were You and Sa ere. you guys w re e h w g wonderin
I always used to be sad because of that. I really never knew why. But I know I felt alone and I used to feel like I was a black sheep. That day you showed me a side of you that I never knew, a cool big brother.
I remember I was at the house, on the computer listening to the song The Sky Is the Limit when it just came out. Sammy walked in and asked if I wanted to smoke. My response was “fuck yea, no quessons asked.” “But it ain’t mine, it’s Miguel’s.” I smacked my lips and said “Hell nah, it’s a set up bro. I’m straight” “Well suit ‘cha self. I’ll be outside with him on the porch, so think about it.” Then he lee out the front door.
I was wondering what would happen. My palms started to sweat, my heart started to pump faster and faster by the second. I was scared, nervous and terrified. I just didn’t know what to do. So I thought I’ll just go out there and wait unnl he asks me. If not then I’ll just play it off and act like I was chilling with them.
As I was walking down the stairs my heart was racing, beaang faster every step I took. As I walked to the door I saw both faces looking at me. I looked at Sammy first and he smiled at me. I gave him a fake smile back, then I looked at you. You said, “What’s up, lil bro?” I said, “Shit, just chilling.” Sammy said, “Sit down. You look nervous.“
I did and it was quiet for almost a minute. You broke the quiet by saying, “you want to smoke, punk?” I was shocked and didn’t know what to say. I just thought it was a set up so I ssll kept quiet. Then you said, “I won’t tell Mom or Gramma.” As you passed me the blunt, you were smiling. I gave you the ssnk eye. Then I asked is that a leaf and you said, “Yea, you ain’t never smoked a Garcia Vega?” I said, “No, I ain’t never smoked before.” But you knew I was lying. You just laughed and said, “Just hit it, liar.” So I grabbed it and you smiled as I smoked. AAer I was done you said, “I’m telling mom.”
Man was I nervous but happy at the same me to start a whole dierent me. You know that feeling when you start at a new school. (I just didn’t know how I passed with so many detennons and ssll had good grades! Man, I hated those parent teacher conferences.)
I thought to myself, I’m fucked. My eyes were wide open and you just started laughing and said “Nah, I’m just playing. But if you tell Mom again, I’ma tell her you were smoking.” AAer that day I began to smoke like a chimney. Then I guess Mom either didn’t want or couldn’t take care of me.
So she decided that I would live with you guys in Wisconsin, because of the way I was behaving at home, school and on the streets. So we went to Chicago to pick up the rest of my stuff. As soon as we got back, we all moved to Dousmen Street.
I know you remember that place. It was a big blue two story house with a 2 car garage and had 2 bathrooms, 6 bedrooms, 2 kitchens, 2 back porches, 1 front room and a laundry room. Man I had so many memories in there! I remember Gramma had that old beat up minivan and Mom, Sammy, Selina, and Gramma took me to enroll in that school on the reservaaon, Oneida Turtle Middle School.
It was around 5 a.m. and Sammy came to my room and woke me up. “Come on. Get ready for school.”
I thought to myself, hell nah, I don’t want to go. But, I got ready anyway. When we were all ready we went outside and walked to the corner so nobody would know where we lived. It was so cold that morning. When the bus pulled up I couldn’t see in it, because it was so foggy.
There were around 30 people on the bus. As soon as I got on the bus, all eyes were on me. I just followed Sammy to the back of the bus and sat next to him. It took about an hour to get to the school. Once we got there, we saw 8 school buses all lined up. Bus by bus they were leeng everyone out. We were the ďŹ ďŹ h bus. Sammy told me to wait and watch as everyone stands up all at once. When the bus driver opened the door, it happened the same way he had told me. It was funny as hell.
Once we got off the bus, we walked into the school. I knew it would be different, but I didn’t know how different it was going to be. Chicago Public Schools were quick to suspend me or give detennons, while the Turtle School would give me warnings. I thought people would be playing football, tag or soccer. I expected that the older kids would be picking on the younger kids, “preying on the weak” and bullying. I saw nothing like that.
People were walking around like zombies. It was funny for a week, then it was so boring. AAer a year and a half, I got sick of the same rouune. Wake up, get ready, get dressed, go to school, eat breakfast, go to lockers. We had 10 minutes to go to class. Each class was an hour long. We did have recess, which was shocking because Chicago Public Schools didn’t have recess.
Looking back on those mes, I realize that we’ve both been through a lot since we were young. No maaer how slow our family is or how crazy our situaaons are, we can connect and survive.
Basically I just want to let you know you’re not alone in this world. I mean the life you lived and what you’re living now.
I wish I could talk to you like how I talk to Joey and Sammy. I hope we can create something when you are free again.
Keep your head up, Rambo
I am from the City of Chicago From K5’s and Tahoe’s I am from no luv city, dead homies, lurking for opps And wars that never end I am from stolen cars and rentals From 42nd and Campbell Street From Indian tacos and tortas From respect others that respect you And what goes around comes around