Most Valuable Piece DJuan Williams
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.
“Dee, you better get your ass in this house before them damn street lights come on,” my mom said. But me being me, I have never really listened. “Son, you know a hard head makes a soft ass, right?” my mom said. Growing up, I didn’t understand why my mom was so hard on me. “A man that doesn’t work is a man that don’t eat,” my mom always said. I grew up without a father. He wasn’t in my life very much, and when he was he said things like he wished I died and he didn’t care about me or my mom. That made me feel some type of way because he never showed me he cared. He never showed me any love or affection.
Growing up I was jealous seeing all the other kids with their fathers in their lives. I didn’t have a male role to guide me in the right direction. So I chose the streets, even though I didn’t have to. After a while, my uncle stepped up and took my dad’s place as a father in my life. My mom and uncle were brother and sister. They did everything to keep me happy and smiling. I’m spoiled rotten, and I always got whatever I wanted. At a certain point in life, I got tired of my mom struggling being a single parent striving hard to get us whatever we wanted, me and my younger sibling Kiya. So with that being said, I started to sell drugs.
Growing up in Chicago in the Austin community, things really took a toll on my life. There was a massive drug flow and a lot of gun violence. Growing up, I was big on going to school, boxing, and playing football with a dream to go to the NFL and play in the pros.
One day the devil got a hold of me and my life changed. This older guy asked me and my homie “Are you trying to trap?” I said “Yeah.” I did. I was influenced. I was tired of my mom taking care of me, so it began. I sold drugs. I was finally getting money and doing for myself. This made me feel as though I didn’t have to do this. My mom never gave up on me and I still had her help. I wanted to learn from my own mistakes. I was hard headed, so I took a couple of risks and jumped a couple gates. After being outside for so long, coming in the house late, my mom started wondering. This made her ask, “Dee, where are you getting all this damn money?” So I lied and told her I been stacking all my allowance she been giving me for doing chores.
I also told her I been putting up the money the rest of the family had been giving me. I knew my lie wouldn’t lie forever, but it will give me just enough time to get by at least for now.
I loved to go to school and play sports. Football was my favorite. I loved boxing, too. From sixth to eighth grade. In boxing, I was 24 and 3. 24 wins and 3 losses. I wanted to be like Floyd Mayweather, but my mom hated me boxing. She feared me getting hurt or hurting others. Even though I never got knocked out, the fights I lost was because my opponents landed more punches. I wasn’t going to give up, but my mom made me quit. Still to this day, I want to start back boxing. That’s my second dream. That dream was ruined the day I quit. I gave up. I can remember things like they had just happened. It was my eighth grade year. I was playing football. I had just quit playing on the Wildcats.
I quit because coach James didn’t want to let me be the starting running back anymore. He wanted me to be a wide receiver. He chose his son to be the starting running back over me, and I was better than him. I was averaging three to four touchdowns a game, and I've been that good since second grade. I felt like coach James was showing favoritism. Butter was his son. So with that being said, I took my talent elsewhere.
With my dad never being in my life, my uncle stepped up and took his place being by my side, showing up at all my games/practices. He helped me find another football team called “The Vikings.” They were in need of a running back. Going to tryouts and my first day of practice, I just knew I was about to show off.
I killed at all the drills. I ran the ball as hard as I could, showing off all my talent. I even showed off my kick return and defensive back skills, properly making tackles, returning the ball from one end zone to the next with no problem. I just knew I made the team, and proved why I should be the starting running back. That’s exactly what I did. I set the tone and raised the bar. After my first day of practice, I went to grandma’s house excited to share the news. “Grandma! Grandma! I made the team.” “I’m so proud of you, Dee Dee,” she said. I ate then went outside with the guys from my neighborhood. We did things I knew I’d get my ass kicked for if my mom found out. I never had to do any of the things we did, but they were fun, and I was just a kid.
Reshadd hung out with the Traveling Vice Lords at the time. I didn’t gang bang. The next couple days, me and some friends decided to ditch school. Their names were Terrence, Jarmari, and Armani. We went to get high and play the game at Terrance’s house, and that’s the day Reshadd and the TVL’s jumped on one of our homies named DQ. DQ felt like we wasn’t at his side when he needed us most. The TVL’s did this retaliating to send a message to me. On the other hand, DQ feeling the way he felt, didn’t know that this was just the beginning of a soon to be rivalry war. Even though we didn’t gang bang, this is what made us jump off the porch. We were just school friends. We weren't from the same neighborhood. I hung out in the Austin community and they hung out in the North Lawndale area. The TVL’s we were into it with was from the Garfield Park community. After DQ got jumped, he stopped coming to school, communicating, or even hanging out with us. He spent more time with his other homies. I don’t really care because I got other homies too, but that’s some bitch ass shit. Ain’t no hoe in my blood.
At school, I was a popular kid. I was clean, wasn’t a class clown, I had girls, I was smart, and I played sports. When the school day was over, I went straight to football practice where we’d practice hard and harder every day to prepare for the season. After practice was over, I went outside. This became a daily routine. One day at school, I got into an altercation and ended up fighting this boy named Reshadd. I kicked his ass, showing off my boxing skills, tearing his rib cage up, and repeatedly jabbing his face. I didn’t know he had a bad kidney until after we fought. I slammed him and he didn’t get back up. He ended up having to go to the hospital. A fight I didn’t even start kicked off a war.
The same day we ditched school is the same day DQ got jumped and we almost lost our lives to gun violence. “Boom Boom Boom!” “What’s that?” I asked Terrance. It sounded like someone was banging on the door. “I don’t know,” he replied, heading towards the front door to find out. “Bring y’all bitch ass outside,” someone yelled out. Me and Terrance immediately looked at each other. It’s the opps.
The boys we were into it with were kicking in Terrance’s mom’s house door. “Pass me that two by four stick,” Terrance said. He placed the two by four stick between the wall and the front door so they wouldn’t be able to barge inside. Lord knows what they had. They always flashed guns in videos on Facebook. So we grabbed knives and baseball bats to protect ourselves and we prepared to fight them. Just as we were about to walk out the back door to walk around to meet them, we heard more kicks. This time they sounded like they were coming from the back door. They were kicking as hard as they could. The door was about to come off the hinges. It was almost open, but we put up another two by four stick between the kitchen wall and the back door. We were trapped inside.
Every time the door opened one boy tried to put his arm inside. We even saw a gun. “Damn” I thought, to myself knowing that things were getting tight on. “How we finna get out of this house?” Jamari asked. “We finna fight them,” me and Terrance replied. Armani sat quietly, I can tell he was scared. “Just call the police,” Jamari said laughing. I replied saying, “I ain’t calling shit.” Me being me, I ain’t no police ass nigga. Just as we were about to open the door, we heard police sirens. The kicks stopped. Thank God one of the neighbors called the police because I wasn’t. Win, lose, or draw, we was about to go to war, standing up for ourselves. We didn’t care if this could cost us our lives. While DQ was mad at us texting the chat complaining about how he got jumped, we had bigger problems on our hands.
Later that day, I called my mom to come get me. Jamari and Armani left. I didn’t wanna leave Terrance by himself. So I asked him “Do you want to come over to my house?” He said, “No.” My mom finally arrived, saying, “Come outside.” I asked again before leaving. His answer didn’t change, so I left. I informed my mom about what happened because she asked, “How was your day?” She told me “Don’t ever be scared to call the police.” I laughed with the thought on my mind, “Ain’t no hoe in my blood. None whatsoever. I’ma get my lick back. I’ma fight them every day if I got to.” On the way home, I told my mom “You can’t be soft or scared. You gotta stand up for yourself. If you don’t, the same thing will keep happening.”
When we got home, I showered, ate, and prepared for the next day. I went to sleep curious that night. Curious of what tomorrow’s journey would bring forth. “Dee. Dee. Wake up. We got to go to school,” my little sister said. I got up, brushed my teeth, put my clothes on, grabbed my bookbag and football equipment. I waited on my sister at the door. She stuffed her book bag with snacks and lunch my mom made us. Then we left out the door and headed to school. I hated getting on transportation, especially the bus, but my mom was a hard working parent. Every day she had to be at work at 8 AM. I know that was tiring and she worked closer to where we stayed. Me and my sister didn’t want to take her out her way, making her late for work. My mom came up with a plan that if me and my sister travel to school by ourselves, she’ll come get us after. That was good with me because I had football practice anyway, and I wouldn’t have to worry about my sister getting home.
That day was going good until 2 PM. The same TVL’s I was into it with over a fight I ain’t even start came to my school and tried to kick the school doors open to fight us. Our principal put the building on lockdown for everyone’s safety. We were on lockdown from 2 to 4 PM. Our parents had to come get us. The principal didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I went to a charter school named Polaris and she really cared a lot about her students. My mom came to get me and my sister. My mom came to get me and my sister. Terrance’s mom asked my mom to get him too because she was still at work so my mom got him too. I asked Terrance did he want to come with me to football practice and join our team? He said “Yeah,” and tagged along with me. Our team was in need of a quarterback. He had an arm and speed.
Coach Glen asked me “Who’s this stranger?” I said “a school friend.” I was the plug, so he automatically made the team. Coach Glen was impressed and amazed when he seen Terrance throw the ball multiple times more than fifty yards. I asked Coach Glen if he was going to start Terrance. He responded saying it looks like you and little homie gonna take the Vikings all the way to the championship game. I knew what that meant. I was glad to hear Coach Glen was going to start him. I couldn’t have done it by myself.
Our first game of the season was coming up, and it was coming easier and easier. In fact, it was this upcoming Saturday. We had been practicing hard as hell all week. I just knew we were going to kick the Wolfpack’s ass. Unfortunately all our hard work and dedication was for no reason. We lost fourteen to twenty-eight. “Y’all ass weak,” I said. “Y’all ain't blocking, missing passes, and scared to hit.” Coach Glen liked how I uplifted the team, so he made me team captain. “I ain’t losing no more games. We got the Trojans this week.” They was a good team, but we were better. It’s only one player they count on, number 14, a boy called Bright Eyes. He played almost every position. The next few days we practiced hard as hell. We watched film, studied and analyzed our opponents. Bright Eyes was a lefty. He only ran the ball to his left. The whole week of practice was going well, but I still had school problems to deal with.
I got into another fight, and this time I got suspended from school. I got suspended for fighting and cyberbullying. I missed 21 days of school. This could possibly hold me back from graduating. I missed so many tests and had so much work to make up, my mom was mad. I remember me getting a whooping and going on punishment. I got my cellphone and game taken. The treatment I felt was cruel helped me correct my behavior, even though I still had minor flaws. I was a kid and at the moment, I didn’t know how to react to any of the things I was going through.
If anyone knows me, I bet they will tell you I’m a compassionate person. I have a lot of integrity, I’m a critical thinker, and an active citizen. I also love to explore and try new things. How can a kid like me just throw my life away and turn my life over to the streets? I’ve never been through anything like this until now. The family I came from and how I was raised before I turned over to the streets, none of this was ever destined for me. I had a dream to accomplish, I wanted to go to the NFL and play professional football.
Our second game of the season was underway. We faced the Trojans. It was a great game, but we blew them out thirty-four to zero. After the game, we celebrated. “Now that’s how you play!” I said. Coach Glen looked a little mad. I asked “What’s wrong?” He said my school called and he heard I was suspended. He was big on school and discipline. He said, “I should have benched you today, but you’re lucky I ain’t got nobody to run the ball as good as you. Next week I’m going to have you sit out. I can’t have you suspended from school.” I was crushed. My heart was broken. It felt like I kept getting punished. I couldn’t play football or go to school for three weeks, so I stopped coming to practice. I started to go outside more and spend time with my best friend Pierre, selling drugs and stealing cars.
Three weeks felt long. Twenty one days took forever to go by. I knew banging with Pierre could get me into trouble, but I didn’t have anything else to do.
I stopped talking to Terrance because I was upset about my suspension and not being able to play football. I was angry and I let my feelings control me. After a long break Terrance had quit. We had another quarterback named Bay Bay when I came back and was eligible to play. He was just as good as Terrance. Our next couple of games, me and him took the Vikings all the way to the playoffs just to face the Eagles to see who would advance and play the Wolfpack in a championship game. I was mad at Terrence, and even more mad that he had quit. When we were at it, I stopped hanging out with him. I felt he was a distraction, so I focused more on my school work. I was already behind enough and I’d be damned if I don’t graduate with all the other kids.
At my games, I had scouts from every high school. I was averaging three to four touchdowns and rushing for more than four hundred yards a game. I had a lot on my plate, and I couldn’t fall victim to the streets. Thank God my uncle came to my games as support because no one else ever came. (I don’t want to detail every game, but I got highlights on Youtube and Hudl. On Youtube you can search CPS Vikings. On Hudl, you can search up my name).
The playoff game was in the next couple of days. We had beat the Eagles before, but my uncle told me don’t ever underestimate your opponent. Game day arrived and the Eagles had a home field advantage. We couldn’t lose this game. This specific day, I ran the ball harder than ever. The Eagles wanted the victory just as much as us though. The defense was all over me, and I couldn’t run the ball anymore. I had two touchdowns, and I got fed the ball almost every play.
In the fourth quarter, the same score was twenty-one to twenty-one with forty-six seconds left. I depended on Bay Bay more than ever. Everything was in his hands. What to do? Feed me the ball or throw a pass? He threw a forty yard pass to this boy named Keith. When the ball was in the air, I lost all faith. I didn’t believe in Keith, but I was shocked when I witnessed him catch the pass and cross the endzone, making the score twenty-seven to twenty-one. Tyrell and the field goal team went to the field for the extra point with two seconds left. I knew the score was out of reach, and the Eagles were out of time. I started crying. We were going to the championship. I mentioned the beginning of the season, the Wolfpack beat us fourteen to twentyeight. Finally I’ll get another chance to show them they’re not better than us. At the moment, the only thing that was racing through my head was “Show up and show off.” All types of scouts were going to be there, and I couldn’t let my uncle or my team down. We came too far. We had two weeks to prepare for our championship game. It’s a night game at Gately stadium. School and practice had me exhausted, plus it was cold as hell outside. Winter time in Chicago is no joke. Even though it was cold, I showed up to practice every day. We ran offensive plays, and practiced more on defense. The upcoming Friday was a big day for us, and I was eager. Thursday night, we ended practice early because some idiot was shooting in the neighborhood nearby the field we practiced at. Gun violence was a rising issue on the West Side of Chicago. Friday, I woke up ready and I was happy to go to school. I had a great feeling, a feeling like “We’re going to win the championship game.”
After school, me and the team met over at the park district. There was a yellow school bus waiting to take us to Gately Stadium. On our ride to Gately, we prayed, chanted, and went over plays. When we got there, the bleachers were filled. I was shocked the Wolfpack were already practicing, and they set a tone for their energy. There were a lot of scouts there, scouts from the best schools, even the one I wanted to attend (Mount Carmel). We got off the bus and began to warm up. Kickoff awaited and I just had to show off today. We went over a few more things then went to center field for the coin toss. “Heads or tails?” the ref called. We chose heads, but the coin landed on tails. The Wolfpack wanted the ball first, giving us no choice, but to kick the ball. I warned our kicker saying, “Don’t kick the ball to twenty five.” He was their best player, and he’s fast as hell. Tyrell didn’t listen to me, kicking the ball to him anyway. Once the ball got in his hands, he ran fast as lightning, returning the ball from one end zone to the next with no problem. They sent their field goal team on the field and after the extra point kick, I heard the announcer shout out the score. “It’s seven to zero.” Coach Glen put me at kick return on the field. It was the Wolfpack’s turn to kick the ball. Once the ball was in the air, I received it at our twenty yard line and ran, juking their whole team, taking it to their end zone to tie the score after an extra point kick. It’s now seven to seven. It’s still the first quarter. For fourteen minutes straight, we went
back and forth. Going into the second quarter, it’s still seven to seven. Coach Glen yelled out “Y’all ass better score.” But we couldn’t. The Wolfpack was playing good defense. They was a good team, undefeated this season. The whole second quarter, we went back and forth with nobody scoring. Now it’s halftime. A little break before going into the third quarter. This was a good game. I advise my readers to watch this game on youtube. I’m number two.
In the third quarter, I remember running the ball from our ten yard line to their five yard line before getting chop-blocked by a girl and breaking my leg. I was embarrassed. “Damn,” I thought to myself. “A girl.” This was a game changer. She just took me out the game. Me and all my fans was hurt. (This was the first time my full family ever came to a game besides my biological father.) Everything was going wrong. I started crying. I left in an ambulance. In the fourth quarter, every time Bay Bay got the ball, he ran the clock down. When it was twenty three seconds left in the fourth, he threw a twenty five yard pass for a touchdown and ran a two point play, making the score seven to sixteen, putting the game out of reach. As the clock ran down, our defense didn’t let up. We won the championship game and I made MVP. One touchdown and 256 rushing yards. I was happy our season ended with a win.
After the season, I finished the eighth grade year strong. No distractions. I went on multiple tours of different high schools, and scouts came to see me. I even met NFL players (Kahlil Bell, Matt Forte, and Devin Hester). I still couldn’t decide on a school to attend. My mom kept telling me to research schools, but I didn’t listen. I spent a lot of time playing the game and procrastinating around. My mom wanted me to go to military school, but I didn’t want to go, so we got into an argument. I regret not going. I was forced to go to a neighborhood school, Wendell Phillips over on 39th and Pershing, right down the street from where we stayed. Freshman year was going good. I was playing football and everything until I dropped $1700 in my eighth period class. I jumped. Some kids tried to rob me, but didn’t get anything. I told my mom she had to talk with the dean. Then she transferred me to Orr back out west. That was a bad choice because I started to ditch school, smoke heavy, sell drugs, and I stopped playing football. My grades were dropping almost every day. During sophomore year, December 8th, I decided to lie to my mom to stay over at a friend's house and go to school from there. My mom called his mom, Ms. Davis, to make sure everything was ok and I could stay. I didn’t go to school. I left Ms. Davis' house with a friend, and on December 9th I ended up losing a brother and best friend. I suffered a heartbreak. I was actually on the side of my best friend, Pierre Higgins, in a fatal car accident that claimed his life. All because we wanted to joy ride. I was crushed seeing him die. Nobody will ever know what he means to me, and the relationship we share. Blood couldn’t make us closer than we were. Who would have thought something we always do would be his cause of death. Joyriding. We both made mistakes in life, but by far, this was the biggest. To this day, I feel like I’ve learned a valuable lesson. I shouldn’t have lied to my mom.
Me and Pierre weren't on the best of terms. He told me I hang out on the block too much. He was grieving because his uncle had just got killed on that block and by them same snake ass niggas. Ain’t no love in the streets. At the moment, we weren't on good terms, so we were doing our own thing. Both of us had a feeling in our hearts, though, that brought us back. Pierre told me how he was feeling, and why he was feeling like that. He explained to me his uncle died and how. He was set up by them snake ass niggas from the block we call our hood. He told me that I don’t kick it with him. No more phone calls or text. He ain’t want nothing to happen to me hanging over there. He felt some type of way, but it wasn’t like that. I was just trying to get some money. I was tired of my mom struggling to take care of me as a single parent. At the end of the day, though, that was my best friend, so I respected his wishes. I was rocking with him right or wrong. I love him unconditionally.
He asked me where I was. I said Ms. Davis’ house. He said he would pull up in five minutes. “Come outside and come out alone.” When he came to get me, we were back to our usual joyriding. He had a master plan set up. Young, not thinking right or going about things the right way. We engaged in activities that were foolish, and had drastic consequences.
If I can give up anything in the world, I would do it to just get my best friend back. We went to Peezy grandma’s house as we sat in the front in the car smoking, we noticed a police car pulling up behind us. We could have easily ended up with us going to jail but instead we left in a high speed chase and car accident that claimed Pierre’s life. I woke up to a hospital bed asking an officer where my friend was. He then said if his dumb ass would have stopped the car he wouldn't be dead.
I lost my mind. Hearing that drove me crazy. When I got out of the hospital I went to jail. They tried to charge me with murder but the charges didn’t stick because I wasn’t driving. Weeks later I prepared for his funeral and later the burial. I ended up getting shot.
I was lost, heartbroken, trying to find myself, so I gave up the streets. Only for a lil while the streets kept calling me. 7 months later I went outside again but only to get shot. This time really sat me down having to have 18 blood transfusions, almost losing my life, going thru so many traumatizing events, I gave up the streets, finished school, graduating with a 3.5 gpa. I got a job, took a test to go to the Marines, had a child and even started college but only to end up going to jail. The judge set my bond at 1 million dollars.
I was released for 12 months only to go to jail again for a crime I didn't commit. But getting closer to God with the time I was given made me open my eyes. I’ll never give up and I got goals to accomplish. Even if I gotta go through the worst, I’m going to be an entrepreneur on top of that. I can’t wait to get back to my family and build, especially my baby girl Skyla Leilani.
Dewon Cathion I Am From I am from where cars, money, guns and girls excite you From the trenches and where the good die young I am from the smell of gunpowder and tires screeching in the streets I’m from where snakes slither and rats talk Where that backdoor open and yo homie ah tell fa ah token I’m from Constamekia Williams and ah family house From Sunday dinners and family game nights I am from a single loving mother Where you better get yo ass in this damn house before them street lights come on I am from where a hard head make a soft ass I am believer of God that’s blessed with a strong heart I am from $2 and 50 cent pizza puffs and Italian beefs dipped with extra cheese From where it took me to lose Pezzy To see who was really with me I am from PTSD and where you gotta be quick on yo feet I am from Chicago, IL
Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright
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