Separate Ways

Separate Ways Derrick D. 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

Separate Ways Derrick D. Smith

Born in Chicago, the year the Chicago White Sox won the pennant. My mother was young and still in high school when I was born. When my mother would see me, she’d hug and kiss me all over with tears in her eyes and say, “you’re my first born.”

When I was nine months old, I was sent to live with family in Montgomery. When I was older I was sent to a school named Loveless.

My Mom’s mother had three sisters, one lived here in Chicago and had lots of kids. Another lived in LA, California. She said she didn’t want a boy, but her other sister that lived in Montgomery, Alabama, didn’t have any kids and wanted a boy. At nine months, Mama O and Daddy Clint became my parents.

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I was by myself.

Didn’t have a dog, I had a two ton bull that I grew up with. His name was Bully and he protected me like I was his kid. Bully was my best friend. I was a kid that played with whatever I’d find, like a wheel off my broken toy tractor or throwing pecans like tiny footballs and making marble cannonballs for battle with my toy GI Joe’s.

Loneliness was the order of the day.

I came up in the 60’s in Montgomery, Alabama in the Civil Rights Movement. I was just a kid about ďŹ ve years old when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr in the march came right past my house in 1965.

There were so many people they took up the street from sidewalk to sidewalk. They was even in our front yard. The people would stop and eat, drink and rest. From time to time we had food and drinks ready for them, because we knew they were coming.

I didn’t get to march, because I was by myself. Alone again.

This was going on all over America. They marched on Washington DC and riots broke out in other cities-Detroit, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles where my family members were living.

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First Stop, Birmingham, Alabama.

It was only an hour from Montgomery, a short trip to see Uncle Dank and Aunt Bell.

Alone again--they had no kids.

We only stayed one night, to change trains, from a passenger car to a sleeper car on the train, In a sleeper there’s your private room and bathroom with two -- four beds that pulled out the walls. Just to hear the sounds of the wheels on the tracks

Click click, click click, click click, is like raindrops on a tin roof. You sleep so good all night.

Next Stop, Cleveland, Ohio.

My cousin Edna lived in Cleveland. She had two boys, my cousins Raymond and Joe Jr. Ray was nine months older than me and he never let me forget it. Joe was a year older than Ray.

I like it there! At the end of their block was a park, it looked like a mile up and down the hill to me, but I was just a kid. It was the longest park I’d ever seen. Ray had lots of friends--that was cool. Now I had friends, too! For Christmas we’d have big snowball fights. Miss you, Cuz. RIP

Next stop, Chicago Illinois.

“Sweet Home Chicago”

In the summers Mama O would drop me off here. She’d only stay two or three days and leave for Montgomery, because Daddy Clint needed help on the farm.

Now I’d been passed around between family members like a baton.

Alone because sometimes Dee, my little sister, didn’t want to go with me. I’d see all my mother’s side of the family, and friends I make through them.

Now it’s time to see my Dad, Grandmother and her side off the family and friends. I don’t remember meeting my Dad’s father. One day I’ll try to look up his side of the family. All together I’d see all my cousins, uncles, aunts, grands and great grandparents.

In Chicago I would always pick up some new bad habits, like smoking cigarettes at ten years old to drinking and later getting high, and more. It was just something to keep me company in my times of loneliness.

Next Stop, Los Angeles, California.

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All aboard! Next stop, Montgomery, Alabama.

After three or four days there, back on the train and a long, lonely ride back to my 24-inch black and white oor model TV and to my school named Loveless.

I looked up the meaning, unloved.

Derrick I am from black and white TV’s From Tang and Corn Flakes I am from a 3 room house, One bedroom for the three of us, An eat-in kitchen and living, family, guest room, all in one I am from cotton and corn plants Soft but hard to get and sweet but cuts like razors I’m from family reunions and BBQ ribs and fishing From Robert and Willa Smith, I’m from learning to farm and drive a tractor And learning to be a cattleman or cowboy and learning to drive a car From learn to count your money and never wear red I’m from Baptist churches, big Sundays where everybody cooks something each table is full of food I’m from Chicago, IL by way of Montgomery, AL Fried chicken collard greens, blackeyed peas and cornbread.