PATHWAYS

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African Proverb

In collaboration with:

"Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter."

L I O N S P E A K S

The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people experiencing, navigating, surviving complex traumas 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 strengthen self reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive self-projection to author new life narratives.

Pathways grows out of the micro-community built by the participants of the summer 2022 cohort of Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation. The young men whose voices rise from this compilation undertook a complex journey of self-reflection and creation through ConTextos’ Authors Circle. Every story matters. Every human being has stories to tell. The pages that follow highlight some of them. The beautiful young men who met weekly during the heat of a Chicago summer came together to build community through shared experience. There are existing narratives about their experiences and about them as a whole. This compilation complicates those narratives as only those who are living those lives can. Turn the pages and be open to meeting young men exactly as they are.

N T R O D U C T I O N

Inside this book is a compilation of the truths that come from young men from the Southside of Chicago. Summer time is supposed to be nothing but fun and games for young individuals, right? To these young men, wrong. They chose to be a part of PBMR and found mentorship and work ethic and also another family. They chose to participate in ConTextos Authors Circle and become Authors, sharing their life's story through these pages. These young men chose to title the book Pathways, and that title fits them. Coming from where they come from, there are so many paths to take, but very few of them are good. On our journey we explored both types and let these young men know they don't have to walk these pathways alone.

Ivory ConTextos Authors Circle Facilitator

Jonathan

I N T R O D U C T I O N

Summer in Chicago is an amazing time. The city is literally abuzz with energy, activity, creation. It is simultaneously complicated by the sometimes harsh realities of existence in 2022: navigating complex community dynamics and the seemingly constant presence of violence and trauma. The young men who give a glimpse into their lived experiences here showed up and showed out in their willingness to be open and in their generosity of spirit in holding space for each other. It was a beautiful thing for Jonathan and I to witness.

The young men chose to title their compilation “Pathways” because although they formed a loving micro community at Precious Blood, share similar stories, and come from familiar places, each is ultimately on their own unique path, none more right or more smooth than the next. Though their paths forward may be different, they support one another as they move. When Authors Circle is at its best, the space expands and contracts as needs be; the space holds each Author in the way that author needs in a given moment, and no two moments are the same. That is the beauty of Circle and this book reflects the beauty of that process and of the Authors who made it possible.

slm

ConTextos Authors Circle Facilitator

P B M R M I S S I O N S T A T E M E N T

"MACK"

Mission and Vision: Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation

Rooted in the spirituality of the Precious Blood, we restore human dignity through hospitality, hope and healing

We work as agents of reconciliation to: Build relationships among youth and families impacted by violence and/or conflict. Create safe spaces where people can experience radical hospitality, hope and healing. Promote a restorative justice approach to conflict and build a sense of community.

Our Vision, a hope filled restorative justice community. We provide a safe and welcoming space for youth and families. Accompaniment, we walk alongside youth and families, supporting them through obstacles & life’s moments.

We meet young people and families where they are and build relationships with them. The ability to effectively link youth and families to resources needed to be successful. We collaborate with other RJ Hubs and partners through genuine relationships to learn together.

Harold "Mack" Hagerman

Supervisor of Youth Programming, PBMR

ConTextos Authors Circle Liaison

Introduction Jaheem Don Malik Thailand Canye Rayshawn Jay Des Jeremiah Gartis Mack

W O R D M E M O I R

IN THE MOUTH OF THE DEVIL

T H I N G S I C A N ' T T A K E

Here are some of the things I can’t take.

Can’t take your money or phones.

Can’t take your clothes or games

I can’t take your car.

But I can take the garbage out.

I can take somebody’s girl,

Or take somebody’s shine.

Don WORDS

Am I any less Holy

D E A R G R A N D M A S "

I know I never seen yall and I don’t think yall seen me. But I’m 15 now and making money and trying to take care of myself to see if I’m ready for the years to come. I’m trying to be the best I can be for years to come and help out with a lot of things for my mother and dad. But really my mom because she did the best for me and my sisters. I really want to be wealthy to take care of them, where they don’t have to work. I want to get us a big house. They can have they own house on really big land, where we can build our own house from the ground up.

THAILAND

I A M F R O M P O E M

I really don’t know. Nah, fr.

W O R D M E M O I R S

Not on menu, on the plate.

Don’t let them trick you up.

I’m him, but that wasn’t me.

I can’t be giving no passes.

D E S C R I P T I O N O F P L A C E

Police sirens, kids playing, gotta wake up at 7:30.

Dice hitting the ground, What you need I got it, B.O.B., Getting snacks.

Coming to school late. Touchdown, back to back, Game winning shot, Not going home after school. Being chased by Razas, Killer man.

Left hand give it up.

"Bro, ask yo momma can I spend the night."

"You know she gon say yeah, if you ask."

Folly Friday. Hot summer, everybody and they momma at the pool. Kids being kids, picnics.

Throwing rocks at CTA buses and 18 wheeler trucks. One fight, all fight.

Folks nem sliding, yall get put up.

Milk, no cereal, Peanut butter, no jelly, Koolaid, no sugar.

Don’t let Billy cut yo hair.

T H I N G S I C A N ' T T A K E

RAYSHAWN

Here are some things I just can’t take.

I can’t take a faceshot, a rat.

Can’t take dese hoes.

I can’t take playing around.

Can’t take life for granted,

Cause I can’t keep taking losses. Can’t let you backdoor me.

I can’t take you telling me what to do.

Can’t take no breaks,

Can’t take you getting me

Then ion get you.

Cause I can take a life.

Or take yo kit, Or yo babymama.

I can hit you once and make you fall in love. Or make you cry, Or leave you stranded.

I can take a shower, I can take a trip, I can take so many things, Even chances.

W O R D M E M O I R S

They only love you when you dying.

You can be whatever you want.

D E S C R I P T I O N O F P L A C E

Me running out the gate

Feeling the hot breeze coming from the sun. The corner where I see all the big guys standing there, some shooting dice.

All my life was a risk But we made fun out of it. Can’t run away from the gang ‘Cause I was born in it. That’s how we was living.

D E A R T H E O LD M E

Dear the old me, I’m very different now. Dear the old me, I’m no longer carrying a frown. Dear the old me, Cherish the ones you with cause today they gone. Dear the old me, You can be the life of the Party, But you still alone. Dear the old me, Let me dry you up Cause you been through the rain. Dear the old me, When I’m in those happy moments, I still feel the pain. Dear the old me, I had to turn the next chapter, And that’s the story behind my name.

Dear the old me, I’m very different now. Dear the old me, I’m no longer carrying a frown. Dear the old me, Cherish the ones you with cause today they gone. Dear the old me, You can be the life of the Party, But you still alone. Dear the old me, Let me dry you up Cause you been through the rain. Dear the old me, When I’m in those happy moments, I still feel the pain. Dear the old me, I had to turn the next chapter, And that’s the story behind my name.

I A M F R O M P O E M

I am from Back of the Yards.

From where you eat or get ate by the sharks.

I am from Yam street.

I am from where everyone play for keeps, Where we shed blood, sweet and tears, And from can’t talk to 12 about what we hear and see.

I’m from a group of a few, And from not homies, but brothers.

From where we wrestle and tussle but never turn on the other. And from where we play around but we not for nun.

I’m from where JB say, “let’s get on that, u know a lot, no one on one. ”

And from a full household where getting a whipping was like taking a shower.

I’m from the bottom, Planning to get my name on my own tower.

I’m from City of Sorrow.

From that corner store where them Honey Buns sold like crack.

From where my OG named me Jay.

I am from where Yam street is where Jay at.

T H I N G S I C A N ' T T A K E

Here are some of the things I can’t take.

I can’t take slow shit.

I can’t take dumb shit.

I can’t take no crybaby shit.

And I definitely can’t take no hoe shit.

I can’t take being taken for granted, for sure.

But I can take a message. And really, I can take Everything.

I A M F R O M P O E M

I am from New City.

From blood and grit.

I am from the apartments where it’s fights everyday.

I am from the block, Where the trees are tall And there are used jungle gyms. I’m from Penny and Tangie.

From hot summer days at the park with Penny. And from the hard working ethic of two strong Black women. I’m from “Watch who you hang around,”

And from “Cause if you can’t swim by yourself, you gon drown.”

I’m from God is Real.

I’m from ghettos of the Chi.

From chicken, bbq ribs, mac & cheese, Apple pie, and those plastic drinks.

From Polo G, Mac, Lil Joe.

I am from hurt And healing comes from scars.

I A M F R O M P O E M

I am from Back of the Yards.

From fun, chill, dangerous with gang violence, From 51st gas station, the Racine store and Bob’s store,

Though really his name ’ s Marlon, where we get nachos, Icee’s and chips.

I am from 67th & Union, The white house on the corner with a wrap around porch and a basketball rim.

I am from 50th & Aberdeen, An apartment that smells like soul food and bbq ‘Cause she do be kickin’ it in there.

I am from trees, the real ones, That make you feel chill around your peeps. I’m from my mom, granddads and grandmas, I’m from all my aunties, uncles, and cousins

I A M F R O M P O E M C O N T

I’m from my brothers, sisters and my homies.

From eating with the fam, From hooping and shopping too. And from Showood, who makes sure I’m straight.

I’m from “Clean that damn room, From “Food ready” and “All yall do is play that game. ” I’m from making sure my people’s good. I’m from the southside, with a little bit of the west.

From fried chicken, ribs, macaroni, spaghetti, cornbread and garlic bread, All washed down with Sprite, Kool-Aid, all flavors, it really don’t matter.

From Bebe, I am from JOY.

I A M F R O M P O E M

I am from Morgan Park.

From the hoagy shop on 111st,

And from train tracks that separated east from west.

I am from a small house on Hermosa.

I’m from Mr. Watts and Mrs. Watts.

From where Mr. Watts took me to the library, to the video store, and to ball games.

And from where Mrs. Watts took me shopping.

I’m from a place that I never forgot where I came from.

And from a place where you give respect to get respect.

I’m from where God is all powerful.

I’m from the southside.

From barbeque, white rice, sweet potato pie and pancit.

I am from sorrow, triumph and endurance.

L E T T E R T O " M A N "

What up Man. I don’t even know how to address you for real. . . I don’t really remember how I once did. I’m assuming by me being so young it was probably daddy, but we definitely ain’t doin that. Just wanted to reach out so that you know that I don’t blame you now. Not that I get it at all, but what I do understand is that mental health is real. I can only imagine how your life experience affected you psychologically.

I experienced some things in my life that coulda drove me crazy as well. Fortunately, I had the mental fortitude to see it through and came out the other side stronger and wiser than ever. Not everyone is so fortunate to do so obviously.

F P L A C E

D E S C R I P T I O N O

Weird rules, different environment, yet smack in the middle of the hood. Hot breakfast in aluminum pans, pancakes extra buttery but funny tasting.

Teachers with paddles that will beat you at the drop of a hat.

Uniforms, ugly ass burgundy and gray uniforms. But the skirts though . . . that made it all worth it.

Came every day just to see that . . . Wasn’t nothin like them short plaid skirts. Mass on Sunday, ugh. . . And why the hell do they call it " mass " anyway?

I A M F R O M P O E M

I am from the hunnids. From 117th and Ada.

I am from the one with the red brick, With the vicious attack dog that ain’t gon bite shit.

I am from where the trees and grass’ll Make you think it’s a safe place to raise kids.

I’m from Sandra Story and Harold Fret, Jr.

From family reunions at Avalon Park, And from the persistent demons of post-war trauma. I’m from “Boy, don’t make me come in there,”

And from “You show know how to pick ‘ em. ”

I’m from where the 10 Commandments And Street Gospel juxtapose.

A M F R O M P O E M C O N T .

I’m from Chicago, Southside born and raised!

From Harold’s Chicken on Vincennes.

From Pops and Big Hub.

I am from the wild hunnids

Where tomorrow’s never promised But you still look forward to the bullshit.

To learn more about our work, read memoirs, and other compilations written by our Authors visit: www.contextos.org

Find us on social media: @contextoschi

Front cover image by Naimah Thomas All photographs by Dimitri Hepburn Book design by Naimah Thomas