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Jason Fletcher
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.
Property of the State Jason Fletcher
Opening Statements This book is a collection of memories and thoughts carefully organized in an artistic fashion. This book may seem familiar to anyone who has read any of W.E.B DuBois’s book. Though mine may stale in comparison, I enjoyed the challenge and creative process this book has brought me. Anytime I decide to create a product, I take my time and enjoy the process, creative thought comes in pieces not all at once. As you journey through this book you might come across a piece or two that is not of my creation, I’ve credited the author at the bottom. I’d like to thank ConTextos for making the process incredibly simple and allowing me to add my own creative spin to it, and my peers for the lessons they’ve taught me. Jon for his patience, encouragement and editorial skills. Lisa for her amazing energy. My mother for insisting I do the book. Ms. Hailly for making the class mandatory and the rest of my team at ConTextos.
Letter to the Future 10/05/23 You know that you make things hard? Now that you mention it, that's something my mother used to say often. However, like most of her advice it fell on deaf ears. Going forward you should keep it how Rich Dad said in the book Rich Dad, Poor Dad: Guide to Investing. K.I.S.S, Keep It Simple Sweetheart. I understand you love the thrill of the challenge and the feeling of accomplishing a difficult task, but why work harder and not smarter, why shoot yourself in the foot? Why cry when you can laugh? Hey, wait, where are you going? I’m still talking to you? Remember you can’t do everything yourself, that makes things hard. Use people as tools and allow yourself to be used. It’s true that teamwork makes the dreamwork. A corporation doesn’t have just one member, does it? No, it has hundreds or thousands of members. You say you’re a business right; well act like it. Try listening to your mother, she doesn’t have a Masters for nothing. You’d probably be rich by now if you’d listened. Now look at you still semi-financially illiterate, wasting money on liabilities instead of assets. You don’t have to get a job just push the button on those business ideas and don’t forget the two financial plans for yourself and the business plan for any business you choose to start. Remember, without a plan you have a 90% chance of failure. You’ve got to pay more attention to the things you do and realize they affect the ones you love the most. Everyone has big ideas, but not everyone has the plan to put them together. It’s true what Rich Dad said, “it doesn't take money to make money.” Remember what your friend Eriq said: “cultivate relationships, reach out to your loved ones and let them know you’ve been thinking about them and they mean something to you. Slow things down, stop being in a rush to go nowhere, simply you.”
Dayroom Pleasures 10/04/23 I’ve grown to love Fear Fest, are you talking about Six Flags? I’ve grown to love that response as well; I reply with a chuckle, “no the Halloween special on American Movie Channel.” I never watched much TV in the “world” - (slang for when one was free). Now I find myself in a football team like huddle around the TV with the rest of the community. Community is a new world I’ve adopted for the people I spend most of my time with in this limbo-like reality. The dayroom is a waiting room like area for all the souls awaiting judgment, a constant revolving door of new faces. Once you get past the initial anger and depression a lack of freedom provides, the simple things start to appease you. You start to take notice of the microcosm you’ve been placed in, the alternate reality. This community or sub-community has its own rule, its own flow and within this community are even smaller micro-communities that blend into each other depending on who you are. The chess players with the chess players, the card players with the card players, the chasers with the chasers and all of these communities are blend-able depending who you are. But there’s one community that brings everyone together no matter who they are and that’s the TV.
The rules to the TV vary depending on the deck. From my experience sports rules the throne, with movies commanding a respectable second. The remote has its own rules, can’t just anyone obtain and control such sacred power. Being able to wield the remote means you are trusted with the community”s best interest, “quick hold that channel there’s females on it, turn back to BET, the awards are on and don’t forget the Bears play the Packers tomorrow.” There’s nothing like Sunday night football. Laughter in the air and the aroma of stir fries being made will remind you of your favorite chinese restaurant, bets being placed and pool tickets being watched closely. Even with so much activity going on, nothing goes unnoticed. “Did anyone take a tablet off the front table? Has anyone seen the chicken pack that was on this table?” Best believe someone seen it but he’s not going to tell you. No snitching, remember. In case you forgot where you were, you’re quietly brought back to the reality of cut throats and pirates, backdoors, big slimes, and snakes in the grass. Sobering you up from any drunken delusions of peace or trustworthiness.
About the Author Jason has been incarcerated at the Cook County Department of Corrections since May 25, 2022
Property of the State I 09/29/23 It’s easy to get in and hard to get out. I guess that’s why you’ve see a lot of the ex-cons getting out in the early 2000s with a spider web tattoo on their elbow. I remember being young and bright-eyed asking the muscular middle-aged gentleman about the tattoo on his left arm. He replied to me in a solemn sounding voice that reminded me of depression and regret, “I’ve had to do 20 years in the joint.”
I don’t remember exactly where we were, maybe Walgreens or knowing my grandmother Walmart, in those days pronounced Walmark, extra mustard on the “K.” I’m not sure why that’s a memory held so tightly in my mental; maybe, it’s because the spiderweb ensnared my attention once spotted anywhere in public. Whatever the reason may be, that conversation taught me the symbolic representation of imagery. How that web represented a system that all too many get caught in with each line, representing a calendar year stuck inside the system. Ya know, that saying something about being dead or in jail, well I never thought much about dying. It was always the jail thing that got to me. The good ol “like father like son” complex that later matured into a syndrome. Festering in my youth but never into a full bloom.
Property of the State II 10/05/23 I’ve always wondered where/who I’d be by the time I was 30. Never really had any idea where I was going, just to billions, forward march! Similar to that 90s-2000s cartoon Johnny Bravo, no type of forethought, just a goal. It would still be a bad idea, if it worked, just a lucky one.
I’ve read a lot of books here and there and I’ve come to the conclusion that our universe is 100% mental. Call me a fool but I’m truly convinced my reality is shaped by how I see it. If I believe I’m broke, I’ll stay broke. If I believe I’m a failure, I’ll remain a failure. If I believe anything is possible, no door will be closed to me. Belief does not complete the formula, belief and action creates the winding road to our destination. As I sit in my cell and reflect upon past and current events, I’ve realized my daily repetition of thoughts programmed my subconscious. My subconscious then created the scenario my conscious mind believed. You’ll know when your conscious and subconscious are in agreement by your dreams. If you think about failure, you’ll dream of failure. Dreams are just communicators of the subconscious, at least that’s what the books say.
From my experience the information I’ve read returns true, one might ask if you’ve known this information how come you didn’t prevent your own downfall? Simply put, I learned this information too late, tragic right? Not really, let's not cry over spilled milk. This is a 3rd-eye opener of how strong the pineal gland really is. If I can think myself into a situation unknowingly, it must be equally true that I can think myself out. The formula is simple belief + action.
Financial Network (10/7/23) It's always been about the money, nothing else ever really mattered to me. Being a business owner was a natural routine. I've been preaching self-employment since high school. I created a Financial Network with a slew of ideas, the only problem was organizing them. What I really needed was a plan, a business plan to be exact.
I thought as long as I had the ideas in my head I was fine, really I was being lazy. If it had anything to do with a plan, count me out, I could do without it, so I thought. Having one foot in didn't help either; trying to party, and run a business without a plan and not listening to advice I found myself doing donuts in the parking lot of my mind being burnt out and tired of not going anywhere. So what is it that I've learned over these past few months? Well it's safer and easier if you listen. You’d think that would be something that I knew already but sometimes it's the thought that matters. Sometimes you overlook things due to familiarity, in short you take things for granted.
The three most important things needed to start a business are knowledge, planning, and teamwork. Knowledge of the market, competitors, product, entity formation, tax codes, etc. Planning two financial plans for yourself to be secure, the other to be comfortable and a third plan called a business plan for any business that you would like to start; without a plan you have no idea where you're going. Teamwork - mentors, accountants, bankers, financial advisors, lawyers, etc; you can't do everything by yourself, the world's a lot better with friends. It's safe to say Financial Network never picked up past the formation and business account, that doesn't mean things can't change.
The Suffering (10/11/23) Listen I get it, this isn't the Holiday Inn but things need to change. We shouldn't be treated like second rate citizens just because we are underdogs in our match against the state. I get it, if you can't do the time, don't do the crime, at least that's how the state treats us, as if we're already guilty instead of being innocent until proven guilty. The jail / prison system is a big business with us being the product. Is this why you feed us like animals, with most of the food being labeled “for cattle or institutional use” - so I've heard. Trays! The food comes rolling in and you start to believe the rumors, quality so bad Fancy Feast looks five star. People treat you how they feel about you, this is no different for the state. Peanut butter some days, butter and jelly the rest, for lunch bologna, and dinner slop with a hope of a chicken patty. 2000 calories Maxim for grown men, the minimum a person needs to survive daily. Between hunger and a lack of wholesome choices we have the option to purchase commissary. Where $100 gets you $50 worth of overpriced gas station food not for individual resale. It's true! Don't drink the Kool-Aid, it does things to you temporarily of course - I guess that’s why they call it Fair Promise.
It's funny the place you go to clean is oftentimes the dirtiest, infested with gnats, black mold, and countless other forms of bacteria. This requires a grievance for attention, that attention could take up to two weeks to be received. In the meantime continue as if everything is normal, at this point it is. If Mr. Clean and his crew show up without us calling The Executives are making a surprise visit to survey the area. “No worries sir, everything is spic and span, nothing to see here.”
The Suffering II (10/13/23) People treat you how you feel about you, and this is no different for the state. Once you're an inmate you're no longer a citizen - at least that's how it feels. You take one look at the menu and your self worth diminishes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, that's something I’d feed my child, if I had any. We used to eat bologna sandwiches, when we were poor with no other choice and the slop isn't worth being thrown away. My first day in Cook County Jail was like being in a new world, The Twilight Zone. Being 28 and never really getting into any major trouble created a feeling of confusion and nervousness without a cure and this was only intake. I've yet to reach my final destination. I spent most of the day in my cell sleeping, running away from the dread only to awake with depression sitting at my bedside and a bologna sandwich sitting in the window. The day room and population was small, filled with people explaining their situation, how they lost their freedom. Everyone was in a mood of regret and shame trying to figure out the next step; most people knew what I didn't, that this wasn't how jail really was. This was more like a 7-Day free trial, something I shouldn't get used to if I wasn't going to become a member. I really didn't have much of a choice in the matter in this unfamiliar world.
The bathroom was familiar, like a public restroom in a school or Park district, the shower was separate from the bathroom. Having six shower heads, no door, no place to hang your clothes and a permafrost window. Do I take my clothes off out here or inside, I asked myself feeling awkward. No shower shoes, only two plastic styrofoam lunch trays sit in the middle of the floor. Once the process was explained to me by one of the veterans I grabbed the sheet and covered the entrance. I took my D.O.C off inside the shower and placed it on the window seal, I then placed my feet on the styrofoam trays and slid to the “best” shower head. The water was as cold as winter in Chicago. The shower blanket only covers your waist, so you have an opportunity to make awkward eye contact with the people outside. It's something I have to get used to, if only for a little while.
Your Day (10/21/23) I remember as a kid you were as tall as a sycamore tree, my hero. The summer was the best time you always had a trick up your sleeve, “ where are we going,” then you'd say “don't worry about it, just ride.” You'd always reply with a sparkle in your eye. Even though you left me in the dark, we had a ritual, slurpees. We would always go to 7Eleven, but if you asked me, the best slurpees came from the off brand gas stations. Off we’d go on a mystery quest. Where are we going, to Indiana beach, to the movies, to the Taste of Chicago or were we going grocery shopping? As long as I was in the passenger seat listening to your favorite music and sampling your mixture of slurpee it didn't matter. You always told me you had a boy for a reason, I was your bodyguard, your shadow eager to be in your presence.
I wanted a lot but never needed anything; a roof over my head, the light bill always paid, and a hot meal every night. You had your priorities straight, never worried about keeping me in the latest overpriced fashion. I paid for it dearly at school, these things used to matter to me at that age leaving me feeling left out and cursing my blessing daily. Those were the thoughts of an adolescent mind unable to grasp key surviving principles. As I grew older, I was able to understand the sacrifices you made for me. I fall short of the bar you set for me, wasting the sacrifices you've made. My biggest fear is being a disgrace to you, never amounting to anything. You will always be my hero. A toast to you black queen, you did everything you were supposed to do, the fault is all mine. Alexa Play Dear Mama by Tupac
Property of the State III (10/18/23) From intake we took the elevator down to the tunnel. This tunnel reminded me of the tunnels made by the cartel, with a snakish wind, cold and dimly lit, it gave me knots in my stomach. “If this is the tunnel, what would nine be like?”, I asked myself upon reaching my destination 9-3A. I was in for a reality check from any misunderstanding intake had given me. I quickly noticed the demeanor of the inmates in 9 vs intake was dramatically different, with blank stares and hard looks neck and neck for first place. With 80% of the inmates on psych meds, the deck had an artificial balance to it, tilting toward instability as the drugs wore off. The environment was an equal contributor to the mayhem of the dayroom oozing depression and anger, brick by unpainted cement brick.
The feeling of impending doom hit me once I walked to my cell. A dimly lit room the size of a shoebox greeted me, with rough walls you could scrape your elbow on, and a walkway a cat could barely strut on. If I had any hopes of a view they were crushed once I seen the window covered with a Swiss cheese like metal slab requiring you to close one eye and peep through the holes only to see a dirty window and barbed wire. I felt like I was living in a chimney ready to burn at any second with my celle and I being the wood. Division 11 is like a suburb with low crime areas and high crime areas depending on your location which could be A, B, C or D and within those suburbs are gated communities. These gated communities are program decks which require waiting lists, interviews and approvals to get in. In this case it's hard to get on and easy to get off AKA being voted off the island. As of this writing I’m still a piece on the board watching other pieces being traded and sacrificed in hopes of a better position . . . that position one day being home.
Jason Fletcher I Am From
I am from thinking big From imagination to action I am from thinking I can I am from believing I am from becoming and being From using the Box And from thinking outside of the box I am from using the brightest crayon And from using the darkest crayon I am from erasing my mistakes I am from creating to create
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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