“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 affected by 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, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, and positive self-projection to create new life narratives.
In collaboration with:
Double Font Letter Tim McGhee
Can I be honest for a second? Our relaaonship has been a journey. Your constant presence guided me away from trouble. Maybe I would have given you a favorable impression of myself if I had known. Life has an excepponal way of puung people in place to shape our happiness.
Thanks to our constant struggle to understand each other, we reached an apex of comfort. This to you Isaiah, the man who became my father.
My earliest thoughts of my father was based on emppness and a longing to be direct. He wasn’t present in my life. I guess I never told anyone that deep insight, but my mother did an amazing job of raising me.I knew for some me I wasn’t her favorite.
Parents like to say they love us equally, but I’m sure I did some things that made her think twice about kids. The love was there for me and my two sisters, but in terms of liking us, I was dead last the way I acted at mes.
Good mes, I guess. I was a serial taker. If it was not nailed down, I was going to lose it in my pocket. It could be cereal from my aunne or a VHS tape from co-op rental stores.
We had a DVD player at that house. I stole something I can’t even use. Guess I’ll never see the Blair Witch Project-- to this day almost 15 years later I haven’t watched it. So, in short, I was a troublesome child.
It was weird seeing you were always around. I guess I wasn’t the most observant child. I’m like “Damn, old boy ssll here, huh. Guess I’m not geeng the big steak tonight. I’ll just fill up on the buuer biscuits. Let him slide this me.”
I used to just stare at you like, “So I see you around a lot. What’s going on here? I know you’re not here on business.” I tried to put it off like, “You’re here to keep my mom company while I’m at school. I guess he is cool for now.”
I don’t remember when it changed to wannng to see you at the house. When you wasn’t around, I was bored and started accng up again. I’m not saying you scared me, I was just cauuous of accng freely around you.
I remember riding in the car going to the store. Our street was a one-way and you backed up down the street. I’m in the back flexing like, “My man’s got moves.” We started having guy’s night out, chilling away from the women.
It’s of lot of them. Back then I had 3 sisters and my mom, now it’s 5 sisters and my mom. So the whole house full of women. There’s me and you staring at the front door geeng ready to enter. Had to come up with a plan.
“This is what we are gonna do. I’m going to speak to your mom, then hit the basement steps.” “Ok, I guess I’ll go to my room then come down stairs.” Good, good break. Like all things in life, I get caught. I get interrogated by my caring mother. I see you by the stairs smiling, trying not to laugh. I’m geeng ready to the thousand quesson barrage, “So what did you guys do? Where have you been? What happened?” All I could answer was, “Life happened.”
I remember the first me I truly disappointed my father. Don’t get me wrong, we bumped heads all the me. Someemes I feel it’s just to get rid of built up frustraaons and since we were surrounded by women we have each other to yell at since we know we both can bounce back easier, than yelling at the wonderful women in the house.
I had stolen some cards from Walgreens and the backlash was standard. The usual - punishment, no television, no outside accviies, the basics. So aaer the fessviies of being in the house watching the carpet grow, I was asked to go to another store at a different date.
Wait before I go on, don’t make assumppons about the outcome. It’s exactly how you pictured it. I got caught stealing again. My plan was perfect, too. Take something, don’t buy anything. I was a kid so that logic was sound. The experience was varied. My mother was beside herself, not knowing whether to leave me at the store or put me in a mental clinic.
Let’s be honest, no one is that dumb.
I can prove anyone wrong.
Hearing my mother look for me. Not knowing what to do. The way my father just stood staring at me--not with anger, but genuine disappointment. No words can express how his opinion of me felt. We always had a ght bond. But when that happened, it seemed the house was quieter. Everyone was at a loss for words and I could not take it. I ran away from home.
I basically went to my grandfather's house. As life taught me, all things are not easily forgiven just because you have removed yourself from the situaaon. I had to build trust and that was the last me I stole anything, from anyone. Except access to cable, I was deďŹ nitely taking that. Hidden fees my ass.
Through our constant struggle to keep my mother happy, we realize it’s always going to be a constant journey. We had something in common that meant a lot to us. So our foundaaon was set in stone. I was excited when you decided to marry my mother. Finally someone to share the blame for daily screw-ups in the house. At various points we would take up for each other. I’d take the blame if you just wanted to chill and vice versa. It’s someemes fun to see who my loving mother would blame for something. To this day I don’t know if you married my Mom to one up me, but I’m happy. My mother deserves the best.
Well since that’s done, thanks, Pops! It meant a lot for you to take me under your wing and show me how players roll. I’m joking. Thank you. It’s hard to show affeccon, so through the air, a fist bump. Thank you again for the love. I’ll stay posiive unnl we are sipping beers and barbecuing on the veranda. I wrote a book about you, so that should count for some Father’s Days I miss. Tell my sisters, “Ha! top that.”
I am from a thought and a dream From the molecules in the air, to the atoms in between I’m from the desires of a woman, looking for love Giving them happiness like the man above I am from the rose with thorns Different in every way Given to a loved one to show Where our love truly stays I’m from the family of giants taller than life Get up close in person to find We’re gentle and polite From the nameless to the famous To the ones with silent nouns. A splitting image of my mother, Since my Dad wasn’t around God has a plan for us, a blessing in design If this poem makes no sense Ha ha! Read it with a smile.