No Love, No Hate

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No Love, No Hate Juane Francellno



“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



No Love, No Hate Juane Francellno



Eighteen years old, I still don’t know who you are.

I know where you live, I know your wife, mom, dad, sisters, and brothers, but I still don’t know you.


Do you know me?

I know you know I’m alive,

I know you know where I stay,

I know you know my birthday and age,

but, do you know me?

Nah, you don’t know me.


You don’t know that I used to love you,

but I can’t show it no more. I guess that’s me being just like you.

Your son!


You don’t know that I struggle with depression. You don’t know that I’ve sacrificed a lot to help my mom with the things you were supposed to do.

You don’t know that I’m eighteen and feel thirty. You don’t know that I hurt inside from watching you hit my mom and leave our family forever. You don’t know that I hurt from watching you take care of other people’s kids and not your own.

Damn!


I know you’re my dad, but why? Dads don’t do half the the things you’ve done.


I remember my grandma gave me $10 and I asked you to go to the store for me. You said "Ok” Hours went by I fell asleep and woke up to my mom shaking me out of my sleep. She took me and my little brother to the car and began to drive. I remember it was real dark and I could tell mommy was angry. There was no sadness in her as if she’d endured enough and would not settle for less anymore. Rage filled her eyes. She finally discovered where you were. You were driving her other car with another female, getting drunk and high.


I still remember the details.


My baby brother Joshua was still sleep. Mommy blocked you guys in and hopped out of the car and proceeded to pull the keys out the ignition. That’s the moment that I knew my mom didn’t fear no one but God. After she recovered the keys, she pulled the female out the car. The lady was lucky my mom didn’t want to go to jail because she had us with her. Yeah I remember.


It turns out I do know who you are.

You are a liar, a dead beat, a cheater, a sperm donor, and nothing more. I know why I suffer now. I know why I don’t know how to love people because that’s what you do. I know why I struggle with relationships. I know why I have a hard heart. I know why I don’t express my feelings and speak up about things that hurt me. I know that it was your responsibility to help me through it all but you failed us, you failed me. I’m not surprised you’re not here right now. You’ve never been.


It’s crazy my mom think it’s her fault that I’m the way I am, like she raised me wrong or something, but in reality it’s your fault. My mom carried me for nine months. She raised me to be humble, respectful and showed me how to be a man. She showed me what it was like to take care of responsibility. My mom never lied to me a day in my life. If she told me to be patient while she handles things for me, it was to get done. But with you, even at an early age, I knew your words held no weight. With me they meant nothing.


I knew when you would tell me and my little brother Joshua to pack our bags you’d be here in an hour to get us, you were lying. It became almost normal to me to never listen to what you said or even care if you showed your face again.


I remember spring of 2014 or 2015 you took my mom to court trying to get full custody of me and my little brother. I remember my mom explaining to me what was going on and I became furious. I was like a bull seeing red. My mother explained to me that you were trying to take us from her and that some people would talk to me and my brother in a few and we had to wait outside the courtroom. I remember the exact conversation with my mom. She was like, “Juice your dad wants to take y’all but, he never wanted y’all before.” And I was like, “why?” She responded, “because he’s putting on a front.”


As we waited outside the courtroom I could feel nothing but anger. It was like you were trying to embarass my mom but really the joke was on you. As we waited and waited, minutes felt like hours. Finally a blonde haired lady came out and spoke to my brother first and then me. She spoke to us alone, she pulled us to the attorney/client booth which was a glass room that was right outside the courtroom. When she finally spoke to me she asked me questions like, “Do you like your dad? Are you willing to go with him? Do you love him?” “No I don’t like him. No I’m not willing to go with him. Whatever he’s saying in there he’s lying don’t believe him.”


The look on her face was a stunned one. It was that, “Damn he ain’t shit,” kind of look I seen my mother give my father plenty of times. Although you weren’t there in my life as much as you were supposed to be you taught me things. You taught me how to treat women the right way. You taught me how to love my significant other like it was my last day living. You taught me how to be a dad, you taught me how to love my kid with everything in me.

You taught me that I didn’t want to be like you.


My daughter is here and her name is Londyn and she will love me, trust me and believe that I’m her hero when she grows up. How I was supposed to think of you. Sadly enough, though, you diminished that yourself.


I’ve met a beautiful young woman and her name is Nialah, she is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. We have our ups and downs but guess what—you taught me how to compromise, come to a solution and work out our problems through communication, not screaming and violence.


Although you haven’t been a dad you’ve been an example of who and what I don’t want to be. I love my family and will never desert them for anybody, so when you showed up to visit me on my birthday and I wouldn’t come down to visit you, well now you know why. I prefer my cell over spending any time with you.


Juane I am from a Queen From working hard and being patient I am from Chicago Where your homies dying every other week and you could be next. I am from where Allah is my protector, guidance and salvation. I am from going over grandma’s house means a soulful dinner. I am from where toting guns means you a “gangster.” I am from Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross and trap music. I am from where your mom is your dad. I am from Evanston Hospital. I am from Tiffany Tobin, Thanks, ma!


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