Please Forgive Me

Please Forgive Me

Johnny Galloway

The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people who are 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 collaborated with the Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Division X of 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 narrative about violence and peace-building, and help author a hopeful future for these men, their families, and our collective communities.

While each memoir's text is solely the work of the Author, the images used to create this book's illustrations have been sourced from 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 fully illustrated books.

In collaboration with

Please Forgive Me Johnny Galloway

Tick, tick, tick. “Lil boy, why is you throwing rocks at this window?” her sister asked. “Where is Willisha?”

I asked. She calls her “Duke,” her family nickname. “Come see what Mr. Man want.” “What?” she says when she comes to the window.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” “You too young for me, little boy,” she replied. “I’m 12,” I replied, knowing I'm lying. “Your big sister Sue 11, so how are you 12 and she older than you?” I was maybe 9 or 10 years old. I just started laughing.

Willisha was this light skin, 5’, nice body with a huge butt and she was only 11 or 12. I would always chase her while we was outside, or play tip-out with her on our monkey bars in the playground on the back-way. She wasn’t the average girl. She was a beautiful red-bone. But such a tom-boy, though. Being able to play basketball and talk sports with a beautiful girl you liked was amazing, I remember playing her in a one on one to 24, for a kiss. I won, of course.

That small, quick, 3 second kiss meant everything and that started our relationship.

Her grandparents were very strict. When it got dark she had to be on the porch. Once the lights came on, she had to go in the house. She really didn’t have much freedom, and now I’m thinking or feeling I’m ready for sex, but Willisha couldn’t dare have or be out long enough to have sex. So I met Unique, a nice dark-skin girl who had a lot of freedom and her aunt worked a lot, so I occasionally would sneak in their house. Unique gets pregnant.

I denied being the father because I was afrai

d of losing Willisha.

Will I be a good father? Am I even ready to be a father?

It was August 19, 2007. U.I.C hospital, I was a skinny, tall teenager with a perfect shaped afro. I would put you in the mind of Steve Harvey. I was 15 years old waiting on the arrival of my first child. Sitting in the hospital waiting room, day-dreaming.

Then my Mother walks in with this kool-aid man smile, “Mr. Man,” -a family nickname I inherited from my grandfather,- ”it’s time.” I hesitated to get right up because I was nervous. In a brief moment, I got up. As I’m walking down the hallway, just looking at the pictures on the wall of newborns with their fathers, I couldn’t wait to see my child.

I entered the delivery room, nurses running back and forth, giving orders, putting on gloves and mask. Unique laying there tired, and in so much pain. After a few minutes, it was time.

The nurse propped her legs up and stated, “Next time you feel contractions, push.” That’s just what she did. Next thing I heard is the crying of my son, Johnny Lee Galloway III. I was so excited to hold him, still with a little blood on him. I kissed him telling him:

“I promise to love you.”

I was only 15 years old, a freshman in high school when I had my first child.

I was a teenager who needed to be a parent, but instead I was still trying to be a teenager.

Doing things like chasing girls, hanging outside, and going to parties. Being selfish, I missed out on the most important things, such as changing pampers, seeing him crawl for the first time, and hearing his first words. When he was first born, he had to be hospitalized due to his white blood cells being too low. I would go to the hospital but not stay long or spend a night with my first born.

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Leaving out, I slammed the door, walking to the Ashland bus stop at the corner of Ashland and Roosevelt, which only took 10 minutes at the most. This morning it took 20 minutes. Standing there shaking, rubbing my hands together, blowing my breath into the inside of my hands. I saw the bus, finally, but right before the bus arrived, there was a car coming fast trying to catch the light, and in front of me is a puddle of muddy water.

A huge puddle.

Now I’m covered in muddy water all over my fresh Coogi fit. Walking back home soaking wet, I said forget school and went back home and that was my last day at Richard T. Crane High School.

I dropped out of high school and started working at Wallace Catfish Corner on the corner of Madison and California. My first day, they had an event with a live band. Someone was too intoxicated and threw up all over the bathroom. Guess who had to clean it up? The pay wasn’t much and I had trouble getting to work and home, so I quit. I was working too hard and was unappreciated anyway.

Now I’m thinking of going back to school or finding another job. I chose to go back to school. Now I’m attending Jane Addams Alternative High School. Two years passed, and I’m turning 18 years old with my third child on the way.

Me and Yolanda never had a relationship, nor never had trust in each other to even have a baby with each other. Just creeping off every now and then. Yolanda was younger than me, and me being older, her grandmother didn’t approve of me nor cared for me too well. So she kept her and my baby in the house mainly.

I guess she felt as if I ruined her granddaughter’s future, so here again I missed out on everything, and I do mean everything.

With my 3rd child: Ja’mya Galloway. Born Jan 30, 2010. Back at U.I.C. hospital for the 3rd time, her mother and I had a bad connection and couldn’t communicate. I tried my best to put my pride to the side, but it just didn’t seem to work.

I’m 19 years old, three kids, and three baby mamas. To some people in the neighborhood, I was the man or somewhat popular I guess to them, but I felt like I was moving extremely too fast.

Not every weekend, but most weekends, I would get all 3 of my kids, sit in the house and enjoy their presence.

I’m proud to say that I’m really starting to learn and become what is the definition of a great father.

Regularly going to Chucky Cheese, or just taking the time to stay in the house and watch all the Disney movies. It’s crazy because my daughter Ja’mya cried because she didn’t want to leave when it was time to leave. I remember my mother telling me I loved Chucky Cheese as a kid and would throw a fit when it was time to leave.

Life is going great. I’m in a great place enjoying times with my kids. Johnny is 4 going on 5, tall and skinny; Ja’niya just made 4 just as big as Johnny, talking clear as day, sometimes too much.

She is always interrupting any adult conversation and loves painting my nails. Ja’mya is walking and loves dancing. She would dance to any music. My mother played an old house music song called “The Booty Up”. She told me, “Watch, she’ll dance to anything.” Next thing I know, Ja’mya is squirming up and down, but she was always quiet as a church mouse.

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Now while I’m cheating, my baby Ja’mia Galloway is born Nov 25, 2012.

I’m back at the U.I.C. hospital for the fourth time repeating the same sequence.

I’m having mixed emotions. I'm happy to have been blessed to have my fourth child and a new girlfriend while still in a relationship with Willisha. So I’m spending nights out, and falling in love with Rasheedah. Soon my baby mother Willisha finds out about it. She got fed up and moved out of town; she was living with me at my mother’s house.

She moves to Kewanee, IL. So she took from me the experience and chance to see my baby grow, and a chance to build a bond.

That killed me inside, but I really am the blame.

It was my fault for playing both sides, knowing I wanted and was going to be with Rasheedah. At the same time, trying to please my baby mother so that I would at least be able to see my kids, but it was all wrong and headed for destruction.

Rasheedah was the right girl for me, I thought. I felt that I had met a girl I could really vibe and grow with. I felt so good with her. If I knew Willisha was gone take my kids out of my life, I would have put more thought and effort into it. I made that decision to be with Rasheedah. I felt I had to take advantage of this opportunity. Our bond grew so good and we were falling in love with each other, so I came to the point where I was like forget Willisha.

Not my kids, though. But she made the choice to keep them away and I was crushed.

Rasheedah treated my son as if he was her own, and my daughter Mya as well. My other two daughters, Niya and Mia, missed out on a lot. I just couldn’t get Willisha to be understanding and be an adult. I’m not just putting everything on her. I played a big part, but I let it be known, a little while after playing around, that I was going to be with Rasheedah. I want to say it took her almost 3 to 4 years to get an understanding that I moved on.

July 29, 2017. We are at our baby shower. I have 5 kids, but only had one baby shower, so our baby shower. It was Luau-themed and it was very colorful. Family and friends gathered together to celebrate our blessing, to buy gifts and free load off the food. Rasheedah just started crying, saying she is in terrible pain. She can barely sit or put pressure on her butt.

The baby shower was happy and sad at the same time. We made it through and everything was great. We really enjoyed ours elves. At 6 or 7 in the morning; she calls me and says she’s on her way to the hospital. Her water bag broke. My heart stopped, going back and forth saying, “Thank you, God.”

I felt as if this was my chance to do the best job I can do to be the best father.

I went to every doctor's appointment, and had my 1st gender reveal out of 5 kids. I was there every step of the way.

It seemed to me I was doing per

fect.

But Rasheedah thought otherwise. Rasheedah was in the ambul ance on her way to the hospital. She calls me and tells me. I was half asleep when I was talking to her. I dozed off, but not purposely, though. I remember walking into the hospital so happy and excited on the arrival of my baby girl.

I fell so deep in love with Rasheedah just off her love for my kids; how she adored them, how she would shop for them, spending her own money on them. Like what more can I ask for? She was the one for me.

So I thought.

We’ve been together for six years. Within those six years, I cheated on her. When she would nag or complain, I would just leave out not caring, sometimes saying to myself I don’t even want to be with her anymore.

Then I heard the best news. God had blessed her with her 1st child, and me with my 5th child. I felt as if I had to put up with her now.

What type of man would I be to leave her now? Soon as she tells me she’s pregnant?

Just thinking: it’s time to man up now. It’s not about her attitude now. It’s for my baby. I really wanted to leave though.

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not really family oriented, a great spot. My Family was in are We s. yer pra our red mean, we God finally answe company was genuine love. I er's oth h eac oy enj and t rac so just seeing how they inte ’s birthdays, but after in a while or for certain people e onc ry eve s her get -to get h’s family had BBQ’s and 4 to 5 months later. Rasheeda like for in aga er eth tog get that we probably wouldn’t t be around love. weekends to play cards or jus occasionally got together on

ntie; her lled her Aunts, Au ca I . es tim n fu y, was happ ey had for me.

Being around them love for them as th al re st Ju n. si ou Cousins, C

Brothers, Brother;

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g who will get up at 5 alty together, having fun, debatin Roy ing rais we at; gre ng goi are last time.

Things es we’d argue about who did it the etim Som tle. bot a her ke ma to or 6 in the morning nderFest and shopping out often, to Sky-zone, Winter Wo s kid the e tak uld wo I and dah Rashee as a family. all as one big family, enjoying life

I loved the man I had become.

an action on State and Washington. Some Jord I remember going out to buy shoes. I’m at Foot ght with gold trimming, and white bottom. I thou 12’s had just been released that day. Cool guy, got iya got brown chestnut, Ja’mia and Royalty about my kids. I bought 4 pairs of Uggs: Ja’n on hard so s ya had to get black because she’ brown Uggs with a bow on the side, and Ja’m a pair d the day she put them on. I got Lil Johnny shoes that brown would have been destroye t outfi an need y e and thought to myself, “The of the Jordan 12’s. I leave out, walk down Stat ,I of them a outfit. After 4-5 hours of shopping to wear.” So I go inside Zara’s and buy each ng talki was she t you.” Without even noticing wha got home and Rasheedah say, “I’m proud of about, I head upstairs.

relax. I thought I I sit down on the bed and lay back, trying to catch my breath and didn’t buy myself nothing at all, and just started smiling.

Every decision I made or was thinking of, I stopped and thought, “What’s best for them? How would it affect them?” I started moving very different; everything was for my kids and to give them a better childhood than I had.

I remember my daughter Ja’mya having a Father/Daughter dance at school. I was so excited, like “What are we going to wear? I hope she smiles and is happy.” I tell Rasheedah. She’s happier than me, and she says, “I already know what I want y'all to wear.” She dressed us from head to toe in Tommy Hilfiger. I had a yellow Polo shirt with blue and white stripes, white pants and blue Aldo dress shoes. Ja’mya wore a blue dress with pink, yellow, green, and white stripes with a yellow sweater and blue purse. I just remember dancing to Luther Vandross, “Dance with my Father.”

The smile on Ja’mya’s face was priceless; it really had me feeling great inside.

I remember planning Royalty's 1st birthday. It was a splash and paint theme. We had a water slide. So many kids wanted to come down the water slide into the pool with me that I at least went 10 to 12 times in a row. Breathing heavy, barely able to talk, saying, “I’ll go with you next.”

A jumping house and painting easel was set up for the kids so they can paint. I call it wasting money and a mess. We feed the kids nachos and hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill.

The day was filled with love and happiness. Royalty had a colorful swim-suit custom made and a tu-tu custom made. Very colorful. Her smile was priceless.

That day was full of fun and love.

Everything was going great. Or so I thought.

In the next couple of months, I’m arrested.

I let my kids down: for Royalty to be spoiled by me and be with me every step I took, to not be able to hug, kiss, and feel the love is killing me.

I’ve repeated this horrible cycle again. Missing out on my daughter Ja’mia’s kindergarten graduation, Royalty’s 2nd Birthday. I never had the opportunity to have a talk with my father about sex. I really was looking forward to sitting Lil Johnny down face to face and teaching him the right way. Having to have the conversation over the phone really didn’t seem sincere, and I wanted to see his expressions. Lil Johnny turned 12. Not being able to help welcoming him into becoming a young man and how to make good decisions hurts. Ja'niya’s 11th birthday, her joining a band at school, not being able to support her and be there for her hurts. Just to hear the excitement in her voice about joining the band had me crying, but no tears fell. Ja’mya’s 10th birthday. I’m missing out on too much.

Jan 14, 2020, I’m sitting in class (ConTextos) not knowing that when I get back on tier that

I would hear the worst news. My Grandma Ernestine passed from stage 4 lung cancer.

Not being able to be there for my Mother to comfort her and be her back bone hurts.

What type of man am I? What type of Father am I to keep repeating this cycle?

To my kids, I want y’all to know that I became the man and great father I am today because of the lessons I went through while raising y’all.

I never gave up on being a father. Even though times were hard and challenging, I fought through adversity. Johnny, Ja’niya, Ja’mya, Ja'mia, and Royalty: stay together and love one another, please! I am patiently waiting for the chance to hug, kiss, and enjoy my kids and family. Forgive me! Never give up. Life will throw rocks, sinks, and trucks at you, but stay strong and believe in yourself.

Thanks to y’all, I’ve become a Man!

My kids are my world. My mother is my first love and to not be able to be there for y’all is heartbreaking. Knowing what I mean and how I play an important role in y'all lives is killing me inside. Please forgive me!

Johnny Galloway I am from low income housing.

From Dove soap and Tide I am from the brick Row houses White, tan, dirty playgrounds.

I am from fake grass and plants In the front and back of the house.

I’m from “be a leader and never follow” From Ernestine and Flossie Mae I’m from the short tempered and Taco Tuesday From “you have to forgive to be forgiven” I’m from “God loves you unconditionally” I’m from “It takes a village to raise a child” I’m from Cook County Hospital Baked mac & cheese, banana pudding From the “no one gets left behind or left out” From “try and help as many as you can” The “stay on this back way and I do mean stay.”

Wall full of family photos and diplomas

That shows generation to generation full of love and togetherness.

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