Who Are You? by William Taylor III, King Pooka

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The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of 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 and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives. Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities. While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into illustrated books. This project is being supported, in whole or in part, by federal award number ALN 21.027 awarded to Cook County by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.



Who Are You?

William Taylor III, King Pooka


-“Life is just a fight against your disbeliefs” - 2Pac. I can tell you I’m a product of my environment, or I could tell you how it all started. Maybe my lessons can inspire you to be different, but just understand I am writing this story, but my story is far from over. My name is William Taylor, III, W3, 3, Tay, Taylor, or Pooka; I prefer Pooka rather than my government name. In my family, your nickname means more than your real name. It all began in May 1991 with my mother's only son. My father W2 was an Airman of the United States Air Force, Desert Storm in Saudi Arabia. The war changed him. Before I turned one years old he was no longer there. Even though my father was absent, my mother doubled her efforts for me.


I couldn’t write a book without saying a thing or two about my mama. She introduced me to a lot of things. My mama may not know, but she influenced my values today: family, standing up for yourself, strength, God, ambition, resilience, faith, traveling to different states, music, sports, and never being satisfied or content. A lot of people don’t know Peaches, but that’s who my mother was for me. Not Pastor Jones, or Director Jones, just Peaches. During ‘91-‘98, it was just me, and my mother, Peaches, my best friend. Even though W2 was out of the picture, I never lacked male influences. I come from a big family, it was always a man around, uncle, great uncles, or cousins, someone was around. When mama had work, I was watched by my great uncle GD, Get Down. We had great times. Uncle GD was my favorite great uncle. I used to be with him in my family project buildings on the west side, JA, a.k.a. Jane Adams. Growing up with the Jones boys was something special because even though I didn’t have my father, I had my great uncles, uncles, and cousins. I felt like the man when I was with them, seeing all the love my uncles received in the neighborhood, even my older cousins. Later, I would hear the hood tales about what street activity they would do, but I watched every move they made. I wonder if they know I had become infatuated with their lifestyle?!



Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone, but if someone puts his hands on you, send them to the cemetery” - Malcolm X My great uncle GD-I admired him the most. His presence really grew on me, maybe because he saw what was in me, or maybe it was cause I knew my uncle loved me. All I know is whatever I heard or saw about uncle GD I had to mimic for real. I got good and bad memories of my uncle GD. He was a handsome brother, stood 6’3 high, yellow complexion, lean muscle, baby face, always wear suits, or walking suits, with a Fedora hat, and his coats, don’t get me started, and Stacy Adams/Steve Maddens; he always was a fly brother and drove caddies. We all know gangstas drive Cadillacs, lol. And uncle GD was a ladies man as well as a good dancer. My grandma sista was his steppin’ partner. My uncle had a vibe that could change the whole room. When my uncle would watch me, I remember his cooking. Man, he had these burgers that was a hit! He would walk to Sol’s grocery store. Sol’s grocery store was run by Sol. Now 60s to the 80s my family the Joneses got a lot of love from Italians back when Italians didn’t like niggas. My great grandma had store credit in Sol’s. When uncle GD would walk in Sol’s grocery he would get a lot of love, which spoke a lot about his character. He would pick up a pound of ground beef and a pound of potatoes for his famous fries, seasonings, and the buns. He would come back home, walk up to the third floor of our building, walk to the back of the kitchen, and start cooking. While cooking he would talk to his food, lol. “Oh yeah, you gonna be good.” Yeah, that bun just right.” “Pooka, it’s not good food if you’re not talking to it,” he said before he was done with our fries. I would eat my burger and his lol; he said yeah, “your mama named you Pooka but you BK the Burger King” lol. Man, it was good asf, juicy well seasoned burger, lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, mustard, ketchup, mayo on a crispy bun with homemade steak fries. My uncle had a saying, “Gangsta & Gentleman.” He would mention the saying to me a million times.


One day I asked him what it mean (me). Uncle GD what’s a “Gangsta & Gentlemen?” “What’s up Pooka, a “Gangsta & a Gentleman” mean you a gentleman, respect every man till he disrespect you, and as a gangsta, take it as far as you need to take it, even dress as a gentleman, take care of yourself as a gentleman, but stand as a gangsta, but never forget also, we have a lot of women in our family, we have to care for as gentleman and protect as gangstas

if they have any issues. And love the women in our family with a big heart because without them, we wouldn’t be here. You got that Pooka, “Gangsta & Gentlemen.” Yeah, “Gangsta & Gentlemen. I’ll never forget. Love you uncle GD.” “Love you too, Pooka. Don’t ever forget, you hear me. It’s up to you now, Ciao.”


He would never say bye after a phone conversation or leaving an event, he would say ciao, guess it’s because of him talking to and being around Italians. It spoke a lot about him as a leader. I would learn my uncle’s reputation in the streets. My uncle used to get high and drunk to ween off the demons and all the dead faces he would see when he would sleep, so he really never slept well, unless he lay down with a high. He did a bid for a homicide back in the 80s. Stood taller than any man I ever knew. I saw the man that was fighting his demons and remember the man who would watch me while mama would go to work, or give me encouraging words as a preteen. My relationship was good with my uncle. Even as an adult I love him still, but on 2/14/23 I lost my great uncle to his demons before I could come home to tell him I understand now, and if I could have made it, I could’ve helped him. Everyone looked down on him for his drug and liquor habits, but he was strong with or without the bad habits.

He will always be my favorite great uncle. I admire him because of the man he was to me as a kid. I always wanted to walk in his shoes, how events led me to those size 12 Stacy Adams, fedora hats, suits with an overcoat, only God knows. I never meant to wear them. I wonder as I sit back and write this memoir for class how it happened? Maybe it was during 1998 to 2002?


”Put a lot of God into what I do because I fight a lot of demons too, acknowledge both” - KP3

My great uncles, uncles and cousins had tales that excited me. I would hear through our family get-togethers about it: (random person) “Whoa so and so did this,” (random person) “Damn, he got booked for what?” (random person) “Niggas know how we do, why fuck with us?” (random person) “Yeah, he’s so and so’s nephew, son, cousin. Man watch it, that’s who wop the bam.” These are the conversations I would hear in the background. I heard all about the action from beating niggas up, catching bodies, going to jail, robbing, selling drugs, playing with guns. How is that wrong when men respect, then females want them, like you ain’t shit if you don’t stand on business, for real. Some did activities in the street for reputation, my family did it for principles.


ng nythi a g n in . mea , p i r bad h o s d e th oo rock uo , g q o t s t u at ean h e st ys m t a k a w l a b re w ere ke ly i l s e n s a th Jo ne m o re d us i e a w s ys r it y a lw a u th o a m o d M y m s r u le s a n ha th a t

1999 to 2002 a lot changed. This is the time my innocence slowly faded. I could lie to y’all, and say I have not experienced trauma. My turning point was my sister’s father TC. He used to physically, mentally, and emotionally abuse me. It all started when I was six years old, when I met him. I was scared to speak out because It would hurt my mama if he left her, because the man who was my father by actions, not blood, left her and went to Vegas, so I didn’t want my mother to be unhappy. Why didn’t I tell another person? I thought no one would believe me, so I endured. I remember this one beating vividly. I had got in trouble at school and that gave him enough reason to beat me because my mama was at work. TC had a belt, a thick leather one for today’s beating.


Some days it would differ with what he would hit me with. He began beating me with all his might. I’d gotten so used to abuse I didn’t cry or yell as he kept hitting me. After a few more hits, I felt a sense of rage like he not my family: why is he hitting me like this? Then boom, my voice came to empty my thoughts: “Stop hitting me. I had enough,” I yelled! “What! Lil nigga, you can still speak? You’re not crying? You had enough? You ain’t had enough yet, mf!” Boom, boom, boom, hits became harder and more intense in pain. I cried, but never yelled out in pain, because back then TC would hit me even harder for crying.


Afterwards, most damage was to my left side. I couldn’t walk, sleep, or sit down on my left side. That night I would lay on the floor in my room, turn on LL Cool J, “Father Song,” cry in a ball with my door closed, pray for my father to come save me, he was an Airman. He’s gone to war he can save me, as I ask God for help I open my eyes, it was just me looking in the mirror. I was 12 years old. From that day, that moment, I vowed to myself, no matter who, or how old you were I was done being bullied and abused. I would later learn he was scared of me. He seen my uncles, and cousins, he saw my strength before I did. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop my growth. Only thing now as I started listening to the demons inside of me. Instead of love, hate and anger became my friend. Didn’t know my actions around this time would cause me to grow up faster than I was supposed to. When I turned 18 years old, the young man I became struck fear in my abuser.


As I reflect, if only he knew in 2003-2005 something in my head woke up and forever my life changed.


“Without education you're not going anywhere in this world.” - Malcolm X

After TC got kicked out by my mama, my uncle started stepping up more for me. My uncle Dr. Gregory Jones is 6 '2, high yellow complexion, favors my grandmother and mother in the face,


GQ type style, hella sauce, always got a fly ass car, and kept some of the prettiest women I ever seen. Uncle Greg was smooth. Never did too much, so everyone always enjoyed him if you got him to talk because he is an introvert. He would surprise you with how funny and cool he is. My uncle never smoked or drinked due to how it affected our family. My uncle would see me every weekend and do activities with me that I cherish to this day. He taught me as much as our uncle GD, little does he know. The things that he taught me is how to wear suits, how to pick out what kind of cologne to wear, even how to wear retro clothes, and pick out the fly sneakers. Uncle Greg is suave. His many sayings all stuck with me, but none like this one. “A man is never supposed to wear cheap shoes on his feet. First thing a woman notices is your shoes.” “Always take care of yourself, your hygiene, see your nails, never have dirt in them. That’s a sign you're dirty and what woman wants you touching her with dirty nails. Keep them cut. Don’t bite them off!” I told you uncle Greg was smooth.


My uncle was a star PG coming out of middle school in 1980. He could’ve gone to any school in the city. He chose Dunbar High School to go with my mama. Between him and my mama, I don’t know who got more trophies. Uncle Greg quit his basketball team after his coach was hitting other boys. He was even a 5 star recruit. My mama use to be at every game advertising him. So when he quit everybody was blew. LOL. Like man, he was all our ticket. It’s cool cause that didn’t stop my uncle from being successful. He would later go to Grambling State University on an academic scholarship. His love for basketball never stopped. He would play for Grambling as a walk on. He was putting up numbers for Grambling, but they wouldn’t give him an athletic scholarship, so my grandma told him to quit. LOL, and he did.


As cool as my uncle Greg was to me, I never thought to tell my uncle Greg or my other uncles about TC yet. I mean my homies knew, but I figured no one would believe me, so I took it as my own battle. Uncle Greg showed me what a successful Black man looks like, not a dope boy. We came from the same bloodline, so how is it he made it and never let our uncles infatuate him. I thought my uncle Greg was weak cause he didn’t react how our uncles did. Little did I know in my ignorance that he was showing me strength and not everyone needs your reaction. I’m proud of uncle Greg for not allowing our family history to tear him down. But I was already on a path that would be hard to steer away from. Uncle GD and uncle Greg caused a chaos inside of me: the battle with who I was going to be. Uncle Greg said something in 2007 that is true in so many ways for boys without a father.


“Been stabbed in my heart so much, learnt how to smile while I bleed.” - Nipsey Hussle

Winter 2005 more things happened. The worst thing ever: the house fire. Mama would have a dream about it. Mama had a dream that God was going to burn our house down. Mama called and described her dream to grandma. Grandma told mama it was just a dream and she crazy for thinking it might happen. Now TC left my mama to fend for two kids by herself and he never once told her that our home was almost in foreclosure. Grandma, uncle Greg, and mama made sure to not lose the house. My mama was working three jobs and going to school to get her bachelor's degree in history. So for grandma to hear mama dream she was like “girl you trippin,” but mama persisted and said, “whatever God is going to do, he will do.” On the night of my high school wrestling meet is when it all took place.

9 PM January 2005, we came home to her house in flames, 214 South Orchard Dr. My mama hopped out of the car, ran in the house to look for our cat Dynasty. She came out once the firefighters arrived. She couldn’t find Dynasty. Mama walked up talking to the firefighters to tell about our cat Dynasty.

Now for a quick lesson: air, oxygen, fuels fires, so when my mama opened the front door to look for a cat she could’ve helped the house blowup and died in it. The firefighters explained this to Mama. Her response was “God is with me.”


I got out of the car on the cold January night and walked up and held my mama's hand and she watched our house burn down. The firefighters were trying to put the fire out. No words were spoken. After a few minutes, mama told me” it’s going to be okay Pop. God‘s got a plan for us. This is our blessing.” Tears was falling down me and mama’s faces watching everything we ever owned burn down. Mama‘s dream’s words rang true, but this was our hardest time. We were homeless, no clothes, nothing. The pain we felt that night, I couldn’t describe it. Just imagine everything you own, even a pet, all your materialistic items, and sentimental items, watching it burn in flames is a pain like no other. Next two weeks I was out of school. I came back, and no one knew how I even smiled, let alone be able to come to class. Even people who were my enemies showed me empathy. Random people would approach me and say, “How can you smile.” “Yeah, I’m staying strong.” “Sorry about losing your home.” “Yeah, we getting through it.” “Man, I can only imagine.” “Yeah, it came out of nowhere.” “What are you gonna do?” “I don’t know. I’m just trying to finish the semester.” These are the kinds of things people would say and ask me. We got our blessings though. Mama had homeowners insurance and she received over 200K in insurance money. Yeah we got our blessing like God said we would, but the trials had just begun.


February 05 was traveling time. Mama wanted to leave Illinois all together. We had a cousin in Atlanta, Georgia, so we drove to visit her. Man, Georgia was cool to me back then. Still is. They got tall trees, mulch for grass in some areas, big houses, and some pretty girls. Ain’t gonna lie, I fell in love with Georgia. My cousin had a house in Marietta, a suburb of Atlanta. She knew I liked football and played. She took me to visit Berkmar‘s high school and man, the football field and school campus was huge, like a college campus and the field was huge. Our next location after Georgia was to visit Indianapolis, Indiana. Not gonna lie, Indianapolis was nice. A laid-back, slow city. Now we had options to choose from. We came back to Illinois. But in March a lot changed.


I had older cousins, the twins, they were two sets of fraternal twins. Fraternal twins are non-identical twins. Terronce, Terrence, Martivell, and Martinell, they were heavy into the streets. March 05 a hit was put out on my older cousin‘s big twin Terronce. Once we got word that his name was hot, they gave me a gun to hold. First time I touched and held a gun was with them. My cousin told my mama what was going on. My mama came over to her house and she lectured me on our cousins. Crazy thing is when she was talking to Terronce and we were all on the stairs, my mom was telling him how his actions affect us all, and he’s the oldest. Well, we were on the stairs, listening, giving my mama our undivided attention. She saw something shine over Terronce‘s head, and yelled for the twin to get down and turn the lights off. The dude he was into was right outside. When I saw my cousin duck down, anger shot through me. Before anyone knew, I reacted. I smashed the front door open and ran outside to hawkem down.


It was dark outside, my cousins, Vell and Nell, ran after me with a gun to make sure nothing happened to me. Dude got away. I turned to face them and mumbled, “He a scared bitch.” Vell and Nell both said, “You crazy, you trying to die. You ain’t got no gun.” “I’m never scared. I’m riding for Terronce.” “I know it, little cuz. It’s alright as long as we are next to Terronce. He good.” We walk back to their house. Then we came back and my mama looked at me, looked in my eyes and seen her 14-year-old son was ready for real war. I looked at our cousin V and said we should move before they lost us to jail or death. Cousin V agreed. Mama narrowed down our options to Georgia, Houston, and Indianapolis. We had family all over Indiana, Marion, Fort Wayne, Gary, and Indianapolis. So to move to 317 was decided.


“I'm here to spread the message of hope, follow your heart, don't follow what you been told you're supposed to do” - J Cole

August of 2005, we finally made it to Nap. Yeah a young’n and the 317 nah. We moved to 7870 West Maureen Terrace, Westpark Townhomes on 10th St. At the time we didn't realize living in the townhomes and apartments were like the projects and that’s for real. It was like Atlanta to me, very Southern. Like in Atlanta they would have sofas in their front yard same as nap time do. In Nap you will see kids outside, people outside, people riding scooters, dirt bikes, and go-karts. You would also see kids jumping rope, water fights, and House Parties.

The weather was a big change too, cuz in the summer it would be like 80 - 85° right, but around 7:00 -11:00 a.m. it would be in the 60s. The time zone change was big too, cause Nap was an hour ahead of Chicago. And Nap had Bootleggers for liquor, cause Sundays in Indiana no companies are allowed to sell liquor. Check this out, they even still had driving theaters that everyone still went to so, yeah it's Southern.

After each Friday game they had what you call the 5th quarter, which is an after game party. All of the players who played, mingled with everyone at the party. If you played or dressed up for the game you felt like a star for real at the 5th Quarter. The love they received was Unreal. I found out the 5th Quarter even had an after party. The house parties were like 16 to 21-year-old clubs. My big cousins, the twins, found this. They always found trouble. I never knew how they did it but they did. As always I would tag along. I'm 15 years old turnt up at these parties, drinking liquor and smoking. I didn't smoke that much cause Nap, they drug tested all athletes randomly. But I did become a heavy drinker.


My first drink was Patron, so you can imagine the kind of transgression I was about to have. Liquor started making the little boy who would cry come out, cuz my environment was peaceful, so I didn't have to suppress it. This would lead to many of my altercations. I remember this one time me and my Mama collided badly. This situation was going to break our bond.


I came downstairs from a shower from playing ball, and taking my little cousin BJ around the hood with me. BJ came up from Atlanta to visit, we were 5 months apart in age so we were really close. I walked in the kitchen, my mom was doing dishes, and BJ was playing on his phone pretending he had a girlfriend lol. BJ will lie about any and everything. I tried to put BJ on with one of the females I talk to a friend. Hmm let's just say he dropped the ball. Then had the nerve to say he had a girlfriend so let him be great. “What's up BJ you still talking to a girl,” I said? I'm like “yeah you supposed to get on with Kayla’s friend.” “You playing bro,” he said. I'm faithful cuz.” I replied “nigga please.” I looked at my mom and she was quiet, so I said something to her. In my head I knew it was on cuz my mom is quiet, she only quiet when she's real upset. Don't worry, I wouldn't have too wait long to figure out what bothered her.


“Hey Ma what's up you okay, you need some help?” She looked up and said, “why are you following your cousins of ours; you got a good environment? Why you want to regress and start fucking up? I heard about the parties and drinking.” I look over at BJ and he shrugs. My mom continues. “He ain't tell me nothing. You forget they is my eyes and ears? I know whatever the twins do you're not far from behind.

I'm like, “You tripping ma, you wasn't there for real. Like if any pain needed to be discussed, this broke the ice. Press pause here. Yeah, I was disrespectful towards my mama because the abuse I endured overshadowed my love for her. Press play. “You said what?” my mom said. Her nose was flaring and she was about to go there. When Peaches eyes change colors, watch out. My mom's eye color was light hazel, so any given day they can be blue, gray or green. When Peaches is mad her eyes are green. I joke with her and call her a red nose pitbull all the time LOL. I responded “Why do you think I'm like this? Cuz I like it? I have hate and anger towards the world for what TC’s abuse did to me.” My mom said, “You are not the twins he didn't abuse you.”

I'm like, “What! Are you crazy? He would abuse me any chance he got when you were gone, put the pieces together, and look at how he would treat me and the twins.” She replied, “You making this up. Why you ain't speak on this before.” I'm like you really don't believe me mama? Out of anyone, you should believe me but why tell you so you can say I'm lying.” She said, “When? You tell me how when I was with you a majority of the time.” “I asked do you remember the day he beat me real bad? He hit me so hard continuously on my left side that I was numb and my left foot from pain.


“I couldn't move my left arm, hand, leg, or neck. I was that sore. He told you I was disrespectful and deserved it. And instead of protecting me you sided with him, when he is not even my real father! So I hated you a while after that. I was 11 years old then but you know what fuck God, cuz I cried and prayed to myself to sleep and nobody came! But guess what my anger and hate would save me, cuz nobody would ever hurt me or laugh again. I can promise that. I will protect myself!” My mom responded “Watch your mouth you disrespectful MF! If all this is going on, why you wait till now?” I'm like “I'm finally free and do not know how to deal with my pain. I love you Ma, it's just something is wrong with me.” At that moment my little cousin BJ put his phone down and admitted he saw what TC did to me. He witnessed my abuse and saw the aftermath of my beatings. He interjected, Cousin Peaches, Pooka not lying, “He did abuse him and much more. Pooka got worse cuz he would stand up for himself, and I would help him clean up some of his wounds. Tears began falling down my mama's face and she said, “I never knew, I would have protected you. I continue, ” Well, I didn't trust you cuz you couldn't even protect you.” She said, “Why did you still take his money or see him with Sydney?” I’m like, “So I can watch and make sure nothing happened to Sydney! I'm different, I'm big and stronger than him now. I'll kill that nigga if he ever touches us again.” Mama walks up and hugs me and holds me tight, her tears falling on me. Even Sydney walked up to hug me and BJ. As young as my sister was, she knew what her father did wasn't right. After this talk me and my mama would promise not to speak on it again. Sadly we would later on in life when I would be 23 years old. The trauma in my life made it better or worse, strong or weak. I can’t answer for you but I'd rather you take this walk with me to read about my life. I'm just getting started telling my story.Years 2006 2012 are coming soon. Everywhere around the world kids experience trauma from adults. And we are to blame for our actions but no one holds the adult accountable. No one knows the behind the scenes of why they act the way they do, or the reckless things they do.


My wish is that my book helps you to ask questions that you are not asking. Save the child's life, cuz I am. I live with my two uncles inside me. I live with both uncles inside me. Their strength helps me make it through any situation. Yeah, a “Gangster and a Gentleman” I'll never forget it. I want to share picture of me and my big brother, we became a victim of circumstance maybe I’ll talk about it in my Part 2 called Vengeance coming soon. Until then Ciao. Life is full of choices, each choice leads down the path. There are good paths and bad paths, but does the path you take define who you are? Are you a bad person because you chose the wrong path? Are you a good person because you chose the right path? What is a wrong or right path? I sure don’t know the answer but I’m learning -Dre aka Red




William Taylor I Am I am from the Eastside of Chicago From the bottom and only place to go is up I am from where you walk outside grandma house and feel the lake breeze I am from where people change like seasons, and fall off like leaves I’m from Peaches and the Jones Boyz From working on cars to boxing And from being a Gangsta and Gentleman was never a choice I am from whatever life throw at you, never fall And from watch yo friends, cause friends could be your closest enemies I’m from pray everyday cause Christ let you be awake I’m from Chicago’s Mercy Hospital, But this city has no mercy, can lose your life all over currency From collard greens, Mac and cheese, cornbread, pot roast, potatoes, sipping From Azul, a double cup with Remy and coke in it, Shooting dice, playing spades, and listening to music From Get Down the biggest G to da D, to Peaches yea, I’m a son from a G I am from Royalty born from a Queen, I used to be prince now I’m a King

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

2023 ConTextos


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