My First Job Terrell L. Smith
“Until the lion writes his own story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” -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, illustrating and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, and positive self-projection 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 young men, their families and our collective communities. In collaboration with
My First Job Terrell L. Smith
Bupe! Dupe! Fupe! Tupe! Beep Beep! My four digit pin code was entered and accepted. I had clocked in and was eager to complete any task required of me. My cousin Renae had “hooked me up” with the gig that her, her brother Mike Mike and her best friend Zach were working at.
Zach was the hiring manager so my position was solidified. “Sometimes it’s not what you know, but who you know.” KFC was located on Milwaukee and Washtenaw in Chicago, Illinois, a multi-cultural neighborhood. I was scheduled to start at 8:30 however I was present at 7:00am, excited and motivated to get busy.
As the new maintenance captain, my duties were to clean inside and outside the work site, stack and manage the pantry and freezer, clean and manage the oven and fryers, set and reset the soda fountain machines, and ďŹ x any minor issues that arose on the property.
The objectives seem to match the title I was given. I was conďŹ dent I could complete each task with little to no effort.
I worked overtime the same day, well into the night. The entire work crew was present from every shift, about 15 to 16 employees total. Our goal was to prepare our site for its annual health inspection. The inspection was scheduled for the following day, so we had our work cut out for us. Both of my cousins were in attendance, so I wasn’t too nervous, but I was nervous. I did not want to make any mistakes.
As I put on rubber gloves and grabbed cleaning supplies, someone turned on the radio. Jam after jam played, soon my previous anxiety was completely alleviated and replaced with ambition. We scrubbed the walls, the ovens, the floors, the concrete outside and everything reachable. I even degreased the dumpster cube, located behind the restaurant, to the point that you could eat inside of it without a hint of foul odor. Satisfied with the job we had done, Zach let us know it was time to wrap things up and clock out.
I was complimented on my work ethic by all of the employees in attendance. The round of applause made me blush modestly. I was slightly embarrassed to be put on the spot. Renae smiled with relative pride. Secretly I was surprised of myself, I mean growing up I was always
trouble; in and out of lock up, fights, gangs, guns, drugs, that’s what I was known for, not working.
I guess I half expected something to go wrong. Like my background disqualifying me for any position anywhere. Or getting into some kind of physical altercation with another employee or customer.
It was possible in my mind that the police could have come in and arrested me for Grand Theft Auto. LOL Pretty paranoid, huh? Trust me I’ve seen enough to influence such scenarios. Gratefully nothing of that magnitude transpired.
I declined every offer to be carpooled home, decided to walk the distance home, adrenaline still pumping. During my duration I began to evaluate my life. The summer night breeze placing Chicago at the perfect temperature.
The aroma of crime, sex and addiction ďŹ lled the air, things I was familiar with. It was mid June 2006, not long after I was released from prison and ordered to serve 18 months parole.
I was only 19 years old at the time and had already got two adult felony convictions. With each step I felt the need to start a new path, a new lime, a new life.
Knock!Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! My slight rhythm indicated my arrival. As I entered the apartment on North Avenue and Kedzie, where my Grandmother, Mother, Aunt, Brother and several pets resided, the effects of work had settled it. I was sore.
“Hey man how was your first day?” my mother asked as Katie our chihuahua attacked me. “It was great! They liked the way I worked,” I replied. “Good, I’m proud of you, son,” my mother said. Then she grabbed my face and looked me straight in the eyes. “Promise me you are going to stay out of trouble this time,” my mother requested. “I promise, I’ll try Ma,” I replied. “That “That’s good enough, baby” my mother said as she kissed my face. “Yeah jail booty, you know Bubba waitin’ on you to come back,” my brother added. “Fuck up, Bitch,” I whispered in retaliation. We both shared a laugh.
I had eaten at work, so I grabbed me something cold to drink from the fridge. After a nice hot shower I harassed my aunt and grandmother until threatened with violence, then played a few video games with my brother, and talked on the phone with my girlfriend at the time.
Noticing the late hour reminded me that I was severely cutting into much needed sleep time. I called it a night and smiled as I drifted off to sleep.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Hard booms to the front door woke the family. “Who the fuck is it? Banging like the police at 4am in the morning!” my grandmother demanded. It was the police.
Just by being on parole I was subjected to random searches. I had already been on parole for at least 2 months. I had had guns, drugs and other elements that could violate my parole stashed throughout the house. They had never searched before, why now? I asked myself. With total disregard to the neatness and organization of the home, they continued their search. Handcuffed and sitting with my back to my bedroom wall, I waited patiently and confident that their efforts were futile. I had gotten rid of those items a week in advance, with the intent to change my lifestyle. Once the pork was satisfied, I was uncuffed, and they exited, leaving a mess for me to clean up.
I’ve often been accused of having conspiracy theories; New World Orders; Patriot Acts; Social Sabotage, and Racial Injustice. Obviously mass incarceration is an urban legend. Clearly The African American race isn’t dysfunctional by design. It’s evident that white privilege and white supremacy never existed. Of course it was just a coincidence that the morning after my first day of work, my home was searched by several police officers praying that I had something they could use to send me back to the money box. Fuck your accusations.
I admit that after the officers left I felt discouraged; like no matter what I would always be treated like a criminal. I felt like no matter how hard I worked or how many times mother told me she was proud of me, I was destined to be a street king.
I was also ashamed because it felt like I was a burden to my family. My grandmother’s home was being searched at 4:00 am because of me and my shit.
My grandmother must have been reading my mind because she said, “Look man, it’s not your fault. Grandma not mad at you, baby.” Then she offered me breakfast before I headed out for my second day at work.
Jaqueline Faye My Aunt
Victoria Ann Smith My mother
The women will always be the heart of our family.
There was no use in going back to sleep, it was almost 7am. I followed my grandmother to the kitchen. I said, “why bother? They just gone keep trying to lock me up again.”
My grandmother looked at me sternly and said, “you carry your ass to work now, hear. You doing good, you keep doing good, don’t let no one make you give up on yourself.”
She turned around and started scrambling eggs, frying turkey sausages and making pancakes. With her back turned, she said, “Shidd, the devil don’t come when you doing wrong he come when you doing right.” All conspiracies aside, that was the God honest truth.
So I returned for my second day of work, inspired and motivated. My Grandmother’s words were everything I needed to hear. I could change, I wanted to change, and I was actually doing it.
Something as simple as a nine to five had provided a breakthrough for a young man who was used to crime and incarceration. Obviously it wasn’t the last time I would experience crime or incarceration, but since then I’ve gone back to school, completed courses, worked several jobs and started a family.
Even with my current dilemma I refuse to give up on myself. I’m still motivated to live a life free of crime and incarceration. “Irony.” Everything today is not all right. Everything isn’t all wrong either, but then again, it’s not the end, is it?
Terrell I am from bullets From Taurus and Berretta. I am from the inside of batteries Boiling, freezing, hot as dry ice. I am from poison ivy Beautifully lethal. I’m from bike riding and talent shows From Genneria and Lee. I’m from fighting and cooking From family first and respect God. I’m from Amunra, Islam I’m from Africa and America. 113th & Central and Potomac Peppers, steak. From the GrandDad Jack just got bit by a squirrel. In Garfield Park Carrie’s loving heart. 5726 S. Damen Ave ADA’s leather belt raises kids.