Storytellin' Ruin and Redemption by DaJuan Thomas

African Proverb

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.

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

-

DaJuan Thomas A Call Now, A Text Then

I asked little bro to recite his piece again in class today. He probably thinks I'm picking on him, but in reality I got a lot out of it. It hit home, “Dad the Street's calling but so am I.” I needed to hear that. I saw Al drop a tear behind that. As street dudes with kids we never see it from that perspective. God has a way of fixing everything. Me needing to hear little bro piece was the Universe aligning my thoughts to unscramble my puzzle.

A recent phone call to one of my favorite little cousins ended with my 8-year-old son having a major breakdown. He tried to pretend nothing was really bothering him, but with gentle careful coaching, his mom willed it out of him. He's frustrated, he misses me, he's tired of the unknown, he loves me. He's ready to be reunited again, he doesn't feel complete anymore. He used the word hate a few times and cried until his eyes was red and puffy.

That day and phone call opened my past back up, with having so many issues, thoughts and going through so much dealing with abandonment. I wonder what would it have been like had I had the balls to really be candid about my feelings to my Aunts, Uncles, mom, granny, or whatever concerned adult about my wants, yearning or needs about my father then.

Me and my siblings was taken away from my mother no sooner than after I was born because of what the state deemed as unfit or neglect. When in reality as I'm older I didn't see it as either. My mom just had or suffered from a disease called addiction which is quite common in urban neighborhoods. We were always fed and clothed, had a decent place to stay, not so much as completely ours but the family members' places we did wind up at was decent.

My mom had nine kids with no stability and never been married. I don't even know if she's even been in a committed relationship.

As a kid I was always angry. I acted out every chance I got for reasons I didn't know. I didn't understand my anger or know where the deep dark rage was coming from. All my mother's kids knew who their fathers were except me. There was maybe three to four possibilities when it came to me. “Oh Mansuur Ali is his dad!” “No, that heavyweight boxer is his dad.” And the funniest one to me was “ mannnnn, Marvin is his daddy.”

Gruhhh the frustration of not knowing added with the cruelness of kids, family members taunting, teasing and laughing. The crushing and belittling of my feelings. The Gap place in between loving and caring about my Outlook on things.

Demons taught me things an angel could never!

Being robbed of the opportunity of a father or lacking the father figures around kind of leaves a huge dent in your making or becoming a father. It affects your whole becoming of a man honestly. It leaves entirely too much time to place blame on everything but the right thing. I blamed past relationships, I've blamed past situations. I've blamed certain people for an absence that affected me.

Now a man with kids of my own I would love to take a different path but circumstances and decisions have put me in the same situation as my father. Fatherhood is so combative.

I can recall times I've done neglectful fathering and blame circumstances to try and justify it. Is that what you ' ve done?

One night I was out super late shooting dice with a few of the guys.

My response, “Are you trying to tell me you my daddy? Did you even have sex with my mama?”

This is why I'm height challenged. This is why my smile is so big… this is where I get my silliness from my complexion… the natural charm as a ladies man this is why my hairline receding…LOL. This is where I get the drive to maximize and capitalize anything from a hustler… I'm his f****** spitting image.

Guess there's truth and statements… When a Dad irritates the child's mom so much while she's pregnant or denies the child the baby comes out looking, acting, and being just like him. I inherited so much from a man I never knew.

Mano y mano y mano

I have kids now and I'm as active as I'm allowed in their lives. Teaching them is on my reverse from the negative of me not being taught. It feels good to wear my cape. I plan to teach and show them things I wasn't given.

I don't blame my pops for being absent anymore. I don't blame my mom for being fertile. I don't blame either of my kid's mom ’ s for not doing the parenting thing my way. There's no blame on anyone, just love life and laugh here on out.

We often turn baggage into luggage when in all actuality, we are only on a quick trip called life and we don’t need either. There’s a Buddhist parable that has guided me through many perilous transitions. A man is standing on the bank of a treacherous, raging river.

It’s rainy season, and if he can’t get to the other side, he’s done. He quickly builds a raft and uses it to safely cross the river. In joyous relief, he high fives himself. Lifts the raft and heads toward the forest.

But as he attempts to make his way through the dense tree cover, the raft is banging and knocking against the tree and becoming entangled in the vines preventing him from moving forward, he only has one chance for survival.

He must leave the raft behind, the vessel that saved his life yesterday is the same one that will kill him today if he does not let go. So that raft represents our outdated ideas and old ways of thinking that no longer serve us.

For example, the same angry, aggressive persona you cultivated as a child, to protect yourself from bullies and predators, will now destroy every relationship you have if you ’ re unwilling to let it go. Things can be perfectly useful and absolutely necessary during a certain period of our lives. But a time will come when we must put them aside or die.

DaJuan Thomas

I Am From

I am from Pershing Rd.

From E.D.Y.C. and by that greenline train station.

I am from Granny’s crib.

I am from that cement circle flower pot

Where we scatter loved one’s ashes.

I’m from Grandma, BigMan, Tina and Mother Thornton.

From Mayo School & Anderson Park playground.

And from project buildings and row houses.

I’m from where a bullet don’t have a name on it

And from where kids stay outta grown folks’ business.

I’m from where we grind hard, grind smart.

I’m from The Low-End.

I’m from Pops, N & J’s and Dune’s Gyro.

From 25 cent juices, frooties & chips with cheese.

From a line of queens, Grandma, Glo, Gina and Cookie

I am from the same place, I try my hardest to keep my kids away and out of.

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