Road to Redemption
Perry Jackson
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 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 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
Road to Redemption Perry Jackson
Let me be the first to admit and say that once I hit high school and gained that sense of responsibility and independence is when a few of life’s lessons occurred throughout the school year that I could tell you I either learned from or took for granted. Come to think of it, that was one of them. Take nothing for granted. But that’s easier said than done when often at times we don’t know what we have until it’s gone
I never fully engrained this way of thinking into my mind until the age of 21 when I became self conscious of my cognitive behaviour. Of course once my freedom was taken at the age of 20. I know! I know! It took you this long to start thinking like this. Yes! It did, why? I admit I was living with a mindset developed from living in poverty and being exposed to deviant behavior and also because men don’t mature until the age of 25. “So they say.” I say I am a product that my environment produced.
You see. Growing up in a lower class family and being raised around poverty is tough all around the board. I say this because you have the devil and his demons constantly trying to baptize you in a pool of blood switching your mindset from pure to pure sinister. For me the odds were stacked against me the minute I was born an African American, let alone into poverty. So from the jump I had a disadvantage.
Losing my father at a young age affected me the older I became and that was when the first demon vengeance sat upon my shoulders but it wasn’t until I gained that sense of responsibility and having to watch my mother struggle to raise four of us financially was when Greed the strongest one of all yanked me into that pool.
And with plenty of demons against one angel, unfortunately I lost that war but I can’t let that define who I am... or BECOME who I am because on this road, the one that I’m traveling on alone right now, is what we call the road to redemption!
Looking back on my high school years I actually was in the best position I could be in. The high school I attended was a good one. Not just because of the community it resided in but because of the diversity of students that attended Disney and the classes and the programs they offered. In order for you to attend you had to take the selective enrollment test. So you can imagine the environment the school had.
I remember having to go and take the selective enrollment test down at Malcolm X College in the Near West Side Community and I was a wreck that day. The evening was full of sun and blue skies, nature sprouting every form of life to work as lovely temperatures brought the city out. Of course I was excited to take the test, this was a big stepping stone for me. I was just more so worried about actually making it to the college to take the test.
You see, summertime in Chicago there’s this saying that tends to float above the city. Suns out Guns out and with that being said I guarantee you fasho 100% that every summer within the first week somebody loses their life because of that saying. So for the friends and family that know me but never understood why I never liked to stay idle during summer in Chicago, that’s why.
Because I’d say it’s been statistically proven that somebody or worse people will lose their lives to the gun during the summer. This is part of the reason why I chose to attend Disney high school to try and escape the gun violencee and temptation to pick one up. To see a change of scenery and to get out of the hood for a little to breathe was the other part.
At the time we were staying in the Austin community on the far west side of Chicago on Laramie and Quincy this was like 2015, 2016 pretty much around the time niggas wasn’t fighting no more. You got a problem, better keep that bitch on you before you have a new set of problems. Problems like focusing on breathing and not going to the light.
But anyway, on that block good temperatures meant a good chance of gunshots ringing out. And to make my paranoia worse, the majority of the people used our porch as a hangout spot. Everyday I left home I dreaded the thought of getting caught in the mix.
gotten worse. I bullshit you Like for real man shit was just getting bad and has only le I know personally who done not, I can’t even count on both hands how many peop lost their life to that shit, it’s sad.
I’m sitting on the balcony enjoying the summer breeze with a hint of burnt wood filling
the air every so often tracking the Jackson bus headed eastbound. I got 10 minutes. I get up and head into our apartment, grab my personal belongings and head out the door.
My mother’s in the kitchen I yell out “aight ma I’m gone. I’ll let you know when I made it.” She replies “ok son! I love you! Be Safe! I reply with a farewell and venture out into the unknown.
Now the thing I hated the most about the Jackson bus, especially with me being who I am, was this, 10 minutes was like a fucking hour if you were standing at that bus stop waiting.
While if you were tracking the bus from the Crib trying to perfectly time when to leave.
10 minutes really meant you better get yo ass out of that house before you miss me.
I step out of my safe haven and I hear sirens in the distance. “6-8 bet?” One guy asks the other on our porch “Naw, no bet.” he replies.
“Lil P what’s up boa” Lil Juan asks me from the bottom of the steps. This was who taught me how to count the dice when shooting may he rest in peace. “What’s the word” I replied happily, as far as the older guys he was the only one I felt comfortable around in a way I secretly looked up to him because a lot of the shit he did he made look cool as hell. That shows you my mindset as a teen.
“Finna take these niggas mon…” he was cut off by my mother. “If y’all don’t get y’all ass off my porch I’m calling the police” she demanded from the balcony. “Naw mama you ain't got to we leaving right now” Lil Juan Pleads
I chuckled just before making it out of earshot and then started jogging to the bus stop because I really didn't wanna miss that bus.
I make it to the corner and what do I see? The damn bus. I think to myself shiitt!! And dart across traffic to the bus stop and in the midst of that I mean car horns are blaring like a Mutha. I heard a passenger yell out the car as it passed, “aye, get yo goof ass out the street!” I replied with a remark that could’ve well forced them to bust a U-turn had they heard it. I rather face the wrath of Chicago’s traffic than my mother that’s from Chicago anyday. Lmao…
I make it to the bus stop in time, and the few who were there before me were looking at me like I just ran from the police or some shit. Maybe they heard me. I let them get on first. I also forgot to grab my mother’s ventra card because the one I had was no good. Still till this day I never actually seen life outside the hood except for when I took a road trip to Vienna state prison when I was 18. Oh, and when me, my mother and younger sister would drive to Gary, IN to visit my grandad but even then I still never saw true life outside the hood. So I don't know if this was just a Chicago thing or what but the moment I realized I
forgot the bus card and had the one that didn’t work I thought shid it’s too late to turn
around now. I’m gettin on anyway knowing this card don’t work. I’m going to act like I didn’t know and still try and get on.
I get on the bus and tap the card, it reads insufficient funds. SHIT!!!! I mumbled just
He looked at loud enough for the bus driver to hear and gave him this so what now look me with this look as if I just told him something he knew already. Stone faced, no emotion, Uhh could you let me pass? I’m trying to go and take the selec… but he cut me “Gone head on man have a seat, you ain't fooling nobody off before I could finish. though.”
He said while chuckling and closed the doors.
I was already seated when I heard the letter G. Shid he aint have to tell me twice and I aint wanna give him time to change his mind. I sat down in the middle of the bus, a window seat and watched as everyday people went on about their day. Teens like me posted on blocks, dope heads in front of liquor stores sleeping on bus stops, some harassing folks. Police cars with their sirens on darting back and forth and as many functional ones I saw I seen just as
This was where I was being raised, this is where I had memories good and bad. This environment is where I called home, this is all I knew. The bus ride was long. I noticed the change of scenery along the way as well. I’m talking bout from 8-door vans with rims and bass sounding like a concert to Suburban Suvs and Mercedes parked in front of decent homes, some with hazard lights flickering. Now I'm gonna say this while I got the chance. If you know you’re the type who is always in a rush. Never leave your car running while no one’s inside anywhere in the city of Chicago. So the fact that I saw plenty of idle cars still running told me I was in a trusted community.
I finally made it to my destination. I got off the bus thanking the driver and texted my mother and headed to the college. Now some of my memory of actually taking the test is kind of vague but I remember walking into Malcolm X College. If you were there to take the selective enrollment test they had you wait in a different section of the college.
I’m waiting and waiting and then they finally called the ones waiting altogether and took us to a large classroom. I believe the first test was like literature or reading. We took that test then received an hour break and resumed the second half. Math. I was kind of nervous during this part because math aint my strong suit. After we finished they offered us a tour of some parts of the college.
One thing I can honestly say I remember that stood out to me was when it came to taking the selective enrollment test my kind was the minority. I was uncomfortable at the time, I didn’t see too many people like me here, it was like I didn’t belong and after the test I headed back to that environment I called home, where I felt I belonged.
As I mentioned before, gaining that sense of responsibility and independence and being at that
age where you understood the value of currency and the ability it held to change people's lives
was the gateway for me and ignorant decision making. I didn’t know any better though I was/
am still young mentally. Still learning. Of course I know the difference between a boy and a girl,
between yes and no, between right and wrong. But would a kid from the hood, desperate to
change his people’s lives, desperate to change his own life for the better know the difference
between right and wrong.
Things begin to get cloudy when you’re desperate and you no longer work off logic
anymore and at that point it’s all about belief. I say that to say, yeah I had some
responsibilities with my needs which caused this sort of conflict between my beliefs and
reality.
Let me take you back to the time where I feel my life truly started to go downhill as if this was part of some bad omen or some shit. January 3rd 2016 the day my lil cousin and a close friend died together. Still until this day just thinking about it give me chills because it would’ve been three homicides instead had it not been for my ex (who by the way I’m
still trynna get back with lmao. We workin’ on it) who insisted she just had to see me that morning.
Just to lay up under a M---f--- and honestly I ain't never been more thankful and appreciative of women like her besides my mother of course. So yeah after January 3rd I bullshit you not my life started going down hill. Starting with me and Shorty breaking up. Ain't that somethin’? Then I started catching cases and after that it was like I was stuck in a revolving door or some shit. I remember this particular time I caught a damn soliciting charge.
Now in the midst of me waiting I’m getting desperate so as you know I’m not working off logic no more. I found out my homie was making a killing just off selling candy literally. Candy! What is he doing? Going to the suburbs where the white folks at, and selling that shit door to door, and by the end of the day we all have like $200-$300 each in our
pockets. So at this point I’m doing this shit like a full time job. I’m ditching school early and all of that.
financially so I’m thinking to This was around the time my mother was struggling and watch Ma struggle. I myself like ain’t no way in hell I’m going to sit up here or getting my ass on that corner. gotta do something whether that,s me getting a job so I applied to a few jobs; waited One way or another she ain’t finna do this shit alone, no good luck, tried again, waited.
This one particular time I guess somebody called the police on us. Who wouldn’t call the police on a group of black teens in a suburban community going door to door with
book bags during school hours? The police showed up one officer and a sergeant both were white.
The sergeant looked like he invented racism. I bullshit you not. What made me say that
was because before he got out of the car he spit in a water bottle which let me know this
M---F-- chew tobacco and they typically are the ones you have to watch out for. Whole
time I was wrong (maybe that was all the more reason life shouldn’t work in my favor) he
actually gave all of us a ride back to the metra station and told us he ain't leaving until
our train come. As we were getting out the car he was drawn to me and told me to come
to his window. You know what he said?
5 years later and I remember like it was yesterday. He said I wanna tell you something;
maybe I shouldn’t but today I’ll do a good deed but a good deed never goes unpunished
and with that being said that white dude said some shit to me and still to this day I
don’t know what he meant.
Maybe you know?
Who cares?
Truth is I was introduced to drugs not long after that good deed was done and it didn’t go unpunished as said. Why? I see now because I was desperate at the time and that I also believed and felt it was for a sole purpose; right or wrong.
I never did the things I’ve done to fit in or to reap benefits but because I was lost and believed that personal sacrifice if beneficial to all and the greater good is perfectly acceptable.
What would you think when desperate in a time of need? Again things get cloudy. When desperate you don’t work on logic anymore, you don’t see things clearly and well, moving at the rate you are in the midst of things you’re liable to crash and crash hard.
So my best advice is to just flow with time and forget
I Am From Poem · Perry Jackson I am from the minimum class From Lay-a-ways and minimum wage I am from struggling to make ends meet Stressed, frustrated, yet successful in the eyes of failure. I am from the many trees planted throughout the city Some of which held self-portraits around its waist And flowers & candles at its feet. I am from Sunday dinners and genuine love From Shearse and Perry From wanting privacy and yet when bored bothering one another From be in before the streetlights and always respect you elders From drug and crime infested communities I am from Chicago, Illinois. Baked macaroni , greens, yams, cornbread, and pot roast From the kid who lost their father by the gun The aunt who lost her 16 yr old son to the same fate In our dining room was a China cabinet filled with family photos Diplomas, and antique silverware I am a product of my environment From a never ending cycle I am on a Road to Redemption. But I can’t let that define who I am become who I am because on this road-the one I’m traveling on alone right now.