“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 expanded into Chicago to create tangible high quality opportunities that nourish the minds, expand the voices and share the personal truths of young people who have long been underserved and underestimated.Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Author’s Circle members develop reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, conflict resolution and positive self-projection. This North Lawndale Author’s Circle has been based at the Firehouse Community Arts Center, as part of Chicago CRED program.
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Off The Top Dwayne Anderson
“Dwayne Anderson, step up!” is what the guard yelled when it was my me to receive my money for bus fare home. My heart beaang 300 miles mph from the excitement of knowing that I was a couple of minutes away from being a free man aaer 365 days of hell. “Aye! You got a ride waiing for you, lil nigga, you don’t need this. Step back in a line.”
But it didn’t maaer... shidd, I would have ran home. My heart sped up knowing my girl was out there waiing for me. The IDOC bus pulled into the lot where people were waiing for their families. When I jumped off the bus I ran to my girl I missed so dearly. She was saasfied.
Walking outside them Stateville doors, a fresh smell of air. Everything felt new, like I was starrng over. My heart ssll beaang rapidly, I kneeled down to feel the ground. I was so excited I told my girl to let me see her phone so I could play my favorite song I ain’t heard in a long me. “Man,” was all I could say. “I’m finally where I want to be.”
It felt like I wasn’t ever geeng out. I was happy as hell. Just siing inside the car made me excited. I was touching everything. Everything felt brand new. The city looked dierent. It was like I missed out on something and I was ready to catch up on everything.
The whole ride home I was just talking and talking. My girl had the biggest smile on her face. I was so happy just to be around her. I mean every single day she was with me. You really can say she was locked up with me. Now it was me for me to return the favor and gi give her all the aaennon she needed.
I thought I was on my way home to see my family, but that’s when we pulled up in front of the funeral home and everything went lee.
For the moment I felt as if my whole body was numb. Seeing my liile sister in a casket broke my heart into a million pieces. Every care I ever had was gone. For a second it felt like I was back in hell. Man, my ďŹ rst day out of jail. I come home to more pain.
Just the day before I was in a different hell. Cook County Jail. I was there for one long year. I hate to even think about it.
“On them doors!” the C.O. said from the other side of the deck. I can smell the scent loudly coming from under my arms. I haven’t showered in two days. My head was in a whole other galaxy.
Tac Tac Tac was the sound I heard at 4 o’clock every morning. Breakfast trays hiing the floor on the inside of the cell. Having to wake up for breakfast so early. I’m sleepy as hell, and on top of that I gooa eat some bogus ass applesauce and stale graham crackers for breakfast.
“Aye, cellie, you want this?” “This must be hell,” I thought to myself.
Fights everywhere. One day I was using the phone and a nigga told me to hurry up or he was hanging my call up. Me being me, he gave me just enough reason to go o and it went from there.
I knew I would end up going to the hole. I thought to myself, shidd, I’ll be okay.
Unnl they put me behind that door and locked it.
Court days were terrible. Having to wake up at 5 o’clock in the morning to get ready for a judge you only finna see for 2 to 5 minutes. Being transferred from bullpen to bullpen, for hours and hours. Gooa look over my back every second. Nobody to trust. I thought to myself, “This is what being grown feels like.”
Eaang nasty ass choke sandwiches with a liile jug of juice, in handcus, waiing to be called into the courtroom. All to be told you have a connnuance for the next 30 or 45 days. To hear the same shit unnl the judge feel like he’s ready to let you out.
Not only is the process going to court a hassle, you have to worry about running into people who hated you. Or hated the niggaz you be with. Tough guys. Then it takes long as hell just to get back on that boring ass deck.
Once you sit it in your brain that you did something wrong and there’s consequences for your accons, it will help you through it.
Them jailhouse burritos take yo mind o a lot. Not knowing that in a couple of months from now, things were about to get a lot worse.
June 28, it was my visiing day and I had court the next week. My Mom was ďŹ nally bringing my liile sister Aquela to see me. My liile sister is in a wheelchair and it was really hard for my Mom to bring her. I was excited, because I hadn’t seen Aquela in an ennre year and I love her so much.
Visiing hours were 3-8pm and me was running out. I called my girl to see if she had heard from my Mother. She called my liile sister Shamaya on 3-way. The moment Shamaya picked up, I heard screaming.
“Hold on, Dwayne. Something’s wrong.” I can hear the screams from the other side of the phone. “What’s happening? What’s going on?” I ask. No answer, just more screaming. “She not breathing!” I hear her voice even louder. “She not breathing.” “Dwayne, please!” “Who?” “Aquela!”
My girlfriend and my sister Shamaya were both panicking. It killed me not to be able to help. I blacked out. I panicked. I didn’t feel myself. It felt like I was gone. While everybody was doing normal things on the deck, my world was crashing down. I was panicking and my heart was beaang fast.
It hit me--reality was real. It seemed like stu I used to see in the movies was coming to life. Pain, hurt, death. Everything I thought was fake was real. It felt like everything hit me at once. My heartbeat was racing speeding 300 mph.
My girl stayed on the phone with me as she followed the ambulance to the hospital. The C.O. let me stay out of the cell. I kept calling my Mom. When my sister got to the hospital, she died.
Everyone was losing it. My brother was crying. My Mom sounded like she wasn’t there.
Then it hit me, I just lost my liile sister. I haven’t seen her in so long. I ssll remember the mumbles of her voice saying “dauh, dauh, dauh” in the back of my mind. I snapped. The C.O. moved me off the deck.
Then court day came. My lawyer had been telling me not to take the me I was oered to cop out. He said it would take longer, but we could beat the case. I called him and told him I was going to take the plea. He was mad at me. I told him I had to, I had to get home. The Judge was oering me 14 months at 50% and I had already done a year in County. If I took it, I just had to dress in and dress out of Statesville for one day, then I could go home. So that's what I did.
Losing Aquela fucked me up. It ssll does to this day. First thing or person I can take my anger out on, I will. I’m learning to handle that beeer, but it ssll happens.
People’s emooons can affect them for real. You never know what people are going through.
I lost my Grandma and Uncle while I was in jail. Losing Aquela was different. I never lost a person that close to me before. My Mom visits the gravesite every Saturday. I went once, but I can’t do it again. I don’t want to go. That shit can make a person crazy.
A few days aaer the funeral, I woke up to a smell I was familiar with, but hadn’t smelled in what felt like decades. The smell of my mama’s sweet breakfast. My nose liied towards my eyes as I rose up from my mother’s couch. A sharp pain shot through my foot as I nooced I had stepped on a small toy my liile brother played with. Then I realized I was home.
One thing I can say is when I was finally free, it hit me. AAer a whole year of self refleccng, the light bulb finally came on.
Being locked up gave me a lot of me to think and get to know myself. I didn’t know I didn’t like being in jail unnl they put me there. I also didn’t know that not only was I hurrng myself, but also the people around me who loved and cared for me. The filth, smell of food, just talking about it reminds me of somewhere I don’t want to be.
I was just locked up for a year and now it was me to face reality. Knowing how easy it was for me to end up back in jail, and how hard it was geeng out, all I kept thinking about was my next move and what I was going to do different.
I never knew how much one mistake could cause so much hurt to so many people around me. I don’t care if you are 30 years old. Unnl you realize it’s me to become a man, the kid’s mindset will you hold you back from being the man you are supposed to be.
Everyone makes choices. I made choices good and bad, but I had to realize the choices I make also aect the people I love.
I am from 3300 block of Flournoy. From nothing and something. I am from the trenches. Shooting, killing, crying. I am from my mother’s belly, Took me 9 months to get here. I’m from picnics and cookouts, From Keke and Lil Chief. I’m from love and peace. From making sure I clean my room Before Mom gets home. I’m from Jenken City Rocblock I’m from RIP Big Rowdy. I’m from the 3300 block of Flournoy.