New Meaning Victor Wright
“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 2016, this innovative program launched at Cook County Jail with young men awaiting trial for violent offenses.Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle develops reflection, critical thinking, literacy skills, conflict resolution and positive self-projection.
In collaboration with:
Cook County Sheriff’s Office
New Meaning Victor Wright
It was April 26, 2005, a warm spring night. I had just got out of the shower, from a long day of shopping and hours of sitting in a barber shop. I was putting on my new white and baby blue Pell Pell sweat suit and my new all white Air Max 90 I bought earlier that day.
I heard my ringtone on my cell phone going off, if you rolling’
“Hello? What ‘sup, bro? Are you ready to pop out yet?” “Yeah, I’m walking out the house now,” I lied.
“Cool. Me and C-Baby pulling up in front of your house. We all hopping in your whip, because your shit looking fly with those 22. “ E-dub said. “When you put them on?”
“Today”
“Y’all must got something on the Petrol?”
“Damn Victor, you always trying to make us gas up your car. Man, I spent a lot of money today and last month when I threw Jennise that baby shower.”
“You know she is due any day now, bro, you about to be a father.”
“We thought you were walking out the house 5 minutes ago.”
“Here I come now.”
I hit the end button and sprayed myself down with some Dolce Gabana cologne.
As soon as I step out of the house onto the porch, I see
my two brothers from another mother. C-Baby was the first to stand and greet me. He sized me up and said.
“Bro you look and smell like money. Man, look at ya’ll we all do. Let’s roll out.” I hit the unlock button and
the three of us got into my 1999 green SS Benville. As I put the key into the ignition and start up the car, my phone started ringing.
ok a
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. cket o nise p n y e J m ame t of n u o e e g th hon n i p y a p l y fli disp m e l l n o I pu e ph h t n on e e r sc
“Hey baby, everything OK?” “This is not yo baby, this is her mother.”
“Hey, Jackie.” “Jennise is going into labor. We are on our way to the hospital.”
“What hospital?”
“Northwestern.”
I felt shocked, scared and excited all at the same time. I couldn’t decide which one to feel first. I felt my muscles get tense, I couldn’t move. I was holding the steering wheel with both hands.
C-Baby looked at me and asked “what’s wrong, bro? Who is at the hospital?”
“Jennise is having the baby.”
“Then what’s the hold up? Let’s go.”
I made a U-Turn a t 93rd street, flying four blocks until Jeffrey. I made a left going north, flying through every red light. I made it to 67th and Jeffrey so fast.
As I was getting on Lake Shore Drive, E-Dub yelled from the back seat, “C-Baby, flame up that weed to calm this nigga before he kill us in a car accident.� I hit the blunt a few times to calm the nervousness I felt.
I worried I was going to miss the birth of my child. I wondered what Jennise was going through. Was she scared? Did she feel alone since I wasn’t there yet? How hard I had worked to prepare
for this moment. What if I missed the experience of seeing my baby girl being born?
As luck would have it, my two best friends since grade school were with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s crazy how they are with me at the great moments of my life. They were even with me when Jennise called me seven months ago, two days before my birthday, when she found out she was pregnant.
Thinking back one month ago I was at her father’s house because she had called me, as always, when she needed something to eat. I brought her a Big Mac meal from Mickey D’s. As soon as I got there, she started arguing with me about not showing up at the last class of “Mommy and Me.” Man she went from zero to one hundred quickly. After I took a bite of her burger, she went crazy and kicked me out of her house. We hadn’t talked since that day. I was missing Jennise, but glad at the same time she hadn’t called me. Everything I did pissed her off.
Reminiscing while driving, I hadn’t noticed getting off Lake Shore Drive and pulling up at the hospital. I rain inside the hospital and stopped at the clerk’s desk. I gave the old white woman my baby mother’s name. She twisted up her face at me and said she can’t let me go up where Jennise was having our baby, because I smelled like weed. As I was finna go ham on this woman, my phone rang.
“Hello?” The person on the other end of my phone must have heard the irritation in my voice, because the person paused for a moment before asking where I was. “Down in the lobby. The lady at the desk won’t let me up.” “Stay put. I’ll be right down.”
There I was standing next to the desk with the old lady, when Larry got off the elevator. He walked toward me and the old lady. “Hey, is there a problem?” Larry asked.
“Do you know this young man?” “Yes, I do. The father of my granddaughter. He is needed right now.”
“Sorry, Larry, I didn’t know.”
Larry knew the old lady, because he had been working at Northwestern’s pharmacy for over thirty years. We entered the elevator and took it to the 8th floor. Both of us were in silence. He must have seen the nervousness in my eyes, because he asked me if I was scared. I said “Yeah.” He told me to try to relax and coach her like the class taught you.
My palms were sweaty. I walked into the hospital room and saw Jennise going through it. All of my own worries left and felt very concerned for her. I ran to the side of the bed and grabbed her hand. It was the wrong thing to do, because she squeezed my hand so tight it felt like she broke it.
She looked up at me and asked where I had been. I told her I came as soon as her mother called. But I’m here now. Focus on breathing in and out and push.
A few my minutes later my daughter was here. The doctor asked if I wanted to cut the umbilical cord. I said, “No, that’s your job.” The doctor cut the cord, cleaned and weighed our baby. She weighed 6 pounds, 8 ounces.
The doctor handed me my baby girl and my heart felt so much love for her. I knew at that moment I was going to give my daughter the world. She smiled at me like she
knew what I was thinking. The doctor asked Jennise and me what we were naming our baby girl. I said Jessica Victoria.
I held my baby girl until the doctor said they needed to do some tests. I tried to follow the doctor, but she stopped me and said I couldn’t come. I tried to keep my baby safe. Larry smiled at me. “Don’t worry, she is in good hands. You are going to make a great father. Now keep my baby safe. Call me when she wake up.” Larry said, looking at Jennise, “Got you.”
After Larry and Jackie left and went home for the night, I was sitting in a chair next to Jenisse’s bed holding her hand just staring at her. She looked so beautiful while she slept and I couldn’t believe she just gave birth to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and she was my daughter. As I was deep in my thoughts, my phone started to ring.
“Hello? Can we come up to see my goddaughter?” E-dub asked.
“No, Jenisse is resting and I don’t want anyone to see her right now. Plus, visiting hours is over. Tell C-Baby to keep my car for the night and go celebrate for me. Y’all can see Jessica in the morning.” “Wait a minute, bro, that what you name my goddaughter?”
“Yeah.” “That’s a nice name, bro and congratulations to you.” “Thanks, good night bro see you in the morning.”
After I ended the call I started to laugh. I couldn’t believe a day I thought would be just hanging out would turn out to be the best day of my life.
A day that would bring new meaning to my life.
I am Victor Wright I am from love. From money and homeys. I am from a broken home. Sad, mad, alone. I am from dark dirt, cold in the park outside. I’m from card games and Crazy Sally S. From Pierre and Paris. From siblings that always wonder what the others’ is doing. From “Never give up” and “Keep your head up.” I’m from Baptism and the crowd testifying. From Chicago, Il. From spaghetti and hotdogs. From a family that loves stories of childhood. A father who loves to put sugar in every food he cooks, photos of eighth-grade graduation, and cars—we all love cars.