Julius Jones
“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 people at-risk of, victims of or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2016, this innovative program launched at Cook County Jail with young men awaiting trial for violent offenses.Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle develops reflection, critical thinking, literacy skills, conflict resolution and positive self-projection.
In collaboration with:
Cook County Sheriff’s Office
Always Fighting Julius Jones
I was trying to break up a fight and out of nowhere
It felt like a brick was thrown into my face. I heard the sound of sticks breaking and released a skeletal cry of anguish as my brain sent a magnitude of neglect and sorrow. That’s when I knew for sure that my jaw just got broken.
I was rushed to Stroger’s Hospital because of the severity of the breaks in my jaw. I was lead to the oral surgery floor and even though it was hard to open my mouth, I was still speaking to everyone I saw. I was in the midst of doctors, nurses and so many patients there, all with their loved ones.
I had nerve damage in my face from the incident, my jaws
don’t work the same any more. It was like the world was on my shoulders.
I was released from the hospital with the wires in my mouth. Unfortunately, I was forced to return here. It was so many people asking me what I was gonna do to the guy that broke my jaw. Officers was asking as well because they wanted me to retaliate with violence.
Once I ran into the guy that broke my jaw confusion took over me. I really didn’t know what I was gonna do. My heart
started beating a million times faster, my body tensed up and
my eyes turned to slits. Anger swept over my body as I did not see anything else but him. I noticed that his body tensed up as well, waiting for the unknown, his eyes a lil bigger than what
they usually are. His eyes never leaving from the statue of my body because of my presence.
He even stopped doing what ever it was he was doing
because he wanted to be ready, just in case I pursued him to fight. Everybody was looking, waiting, everything was in slow motion, like it was the matrix.
So as I sit here at cook County Jail, I’m forced to be
around so many different people who are rude, hateful, self centered, caring, grateful and patient. A mix of a
great magnitude of personalities hunkered up together like caged animals.
I am Julius Jones I am from everywhere, oxygen. From trees and branches. I am from rich ground, with grass and all. Leaves, vines and underground tunnels known as roots. I am from Poison Ivy, Mary Jane and Dandelions; different types of green and one yellow like the sun. I’m from family Christmas and picnics. From my sister ReRe and my brother Bird. From project buildings and suburban row houses. From “Being bad” and “Be smart.” I’m from the House of God, the church where I worship the Lord. From Jackson, Mississippi; my family is the Joneses. From a family that lives for chicken, hot sauce and greens. From the gossip of my family on drugs, as in my mom who can’t stop. The sadness of my grandma, handicapped in a wheelchair. Photos on family walls, phones and memories; family that knows when someone gives you something and then passes, you’ll always have that item to hold their memory.