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“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 people at-risk of, victims of or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017, this innovative program launched at Cook County Jail with young men awaiting trial for violent offenses. Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle develops reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, conflict resolution and positive self-projection.
In collaboration with:
Cook County Sheriff’s Office
Bittersweet Laurel M.
Hey, my name is Laurel Mercado and according to the Law me and everybody around me are really “BAD” people. And that’s it, I’m just another staassc, a number. Staring out my cell window, I’m lee with nothing by memories. I sit and wait as season aaer season passes me by. In this world right now, all I have is myself and my lonely. Guilty unnl proven innocent. So I fight for my freedom. To me, everything happens for a reason, and the “dominos fall the way they fall.”
Unnl a car pulled up. It was a Ford Taurus with nts all around. A guy jumped out and asked me, “Are you Laurel?” I didn’t know what to say. I was confused. I was in front of the house, on the stairs, behind the gate, eaang with my girl and her cousin. I said, “Who wants to know? What happened?” He flashed his badge and took his gun out and pointed it at me. I was behind the gate, so I stepped in front of my girl and told her to go inside. I didn’t want to make a scene or scare anybody. So I asked him, “what’s the problem?”
He asked me to step down. Now if I hadn’t received the news I did earlier I would’ve just lee, got away and avoided him. But I hadn’t done anything wrong, not lately. So I felt there was no problem. When I stepped down, three more deteccves jumped out and cuffed me. That’s when everything went down…
Now I sit and write about the past in a 9 x 5 room, with a 9 month old son. I don’t know when i’ll ever get a chance to meet him.
I would never want my own seed to go through that. There is so much I want to say to my son but he can’t understand yet… Everyone gave up, but I never did. Everyone has a purpose, and through this hardship ‘n solitude, I know mine. So I wrote him a leeer for now.
I am from the City of Every Color, from pop and hot chips with cheese. I am from the park
hungry, mean, wolves.
I am from Rice N Beans N Bread, great food from all cultures. I’m from cook outs every year at Augusta Pool, and pinchos and cocito. From Uncle Celo and Cousin JoJo. I’m from the people who argue and get drunk, from “Your only friend is the dollar in your back pocket”
and “when there’s no dollar, there’re no friends.”
I’m from church every Sunday, and you better be there. I’m from Chicago, watermelon, corn beef, pork chops. From the family where Uncle Luke tried to rob the bank, the family where Mom struggles to keep her kids flee, where there are two brothers, a sister, and mom,
where family always comes first!.