“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 positive opportunities that nourish the minds, ideas and words of the underserved and underestimated.Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle develops reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, conflict resolution and positive self-projection.
In collaboration with:
Chicago CRED
Breaking the Cycle Vincent Glover, Jr.
It doesn’t matter the circumstances you grew up in Or if your father wasn’t in your life. You can always be the one to stand out.
I was the first one to graduate from high school on my daddy’s side. My mom didn’t even graduate from high school either. But she was a parent to me. He wasn’t.
I used to go out with my daddy just to go out. We never even really had a conversation. But there’s one thing that stuck to me that he said‌ One day, I got in trouble at school.
On the phone, he told me. “Don’t grow up to be like me. Be better than me.”
I was in fifth grade. Just months before he died.
As I grew older, I got to see the things he did. He was riding around with me selling drugs. I was just nine years old. We could’ve got pulled over. The police arrest him. I could’ve been in DCFS. But I didn’t know any better. I was just with my daddy.
I would’ve asked him why…
How one day you going to tell me not to be like you. But you’re selling drugs around me. And I don’t know what he would’ve said. But that never even came to my mind to ask that…
I would’ve asked him‌ Why was my grandma and grandpa on drugs? I remember, one time we was in Minnesota, my dad was arguing with his parents. I guess they was asking him for some drugs, he was cursing them out.
My dad, his dad and his mother all died two years apart, right after each other. I would’ve asked him, why this family so disfunctional? Why you said one thing, but did another?
He would’ve told me, the conditions he grew up in. I asked my aunty once and she told me that he grew up in an unstable home, under a different roof. Looking up to the big brothers, and uncles and all the men in his family. They were selling drugs, and he’d look up to that. That’s what they knew. That’s what he learned. That’s what he chose.
In my life I also learned some of the same things, but I chose differently.
When I was in grammar school, from third to sixth grade, I used to always get in trouble. Always getting suspended. Everybody thought I was a bad kid. Everyone saying: Vinnie gonna be bad when he grow up.
People would said, Hey Vinnie, I thought you were the one who was gonna be totin’ polls. Instead it’s your cousins. They like, Man, Vinnie… you doing good things in life. Graduate from eighth grade, go to Morgan Park. No one thought I was gonna make it that far. Then, when I graduated high school they was like… Damn, Vinnie. You grew up to be a decent kid.
I stopped getting in trouble because my momma stayed on me. She was always on my heals about me doing the right thing. Whoopin’ me. Disciplinin’ me. She used to tell me that she just wanted better for me. Her mama never disciplined her. She wanted different for her kids.
There’s only me and my brother. I didn’t have no good male role models on either my momma’s side or my daddy’s side. I was just looking up to my big brother. We never got locked up, none of that type of stuff. We graduated high school, and now we’re trying to open up our own landscaping business.
It’s not easy we want the people in our community to see that two young black men are trying to do positive things in the city of Chicago. We want to start in our own community in Roseland.
Last summer, I was out there in Minnesota visiting my aunty, my daddy’s sister, and she called my mom crying. Said: “Dang, Vinnie the only man who is going to graduate high school on his daddy side. I’m so proud of him.”
My momma told me this two weeks ago. I’m always asking my momma stuff. She told me that my daddy wasn’t a bad guy, just did some bad stuff. They used to be calling him Vinnie the Nut. Now they be calling me that, on my daddy’s side.
This story was hard to write. It’s something that’s important to me. I’ve got a legacy that I got to keep living on. They see my daddy as something bad, but they see me as Dang, his son didn’t do none of that. In communities like mine a lot of young black youth don’t have their father in their life. How are we going to learn to be good men if we don’t have good role models?
If someone does read this book, I hope they get from it inspiration. To be like Vinnie, Jr. It’s hard to not know my dad. Knowing what he did but never knowing him. I could’ve easy been out here selling drugs, robbing… but my mom disciplined me. And those words from my dad stuck with me. “Don’t grow up like me. I want you to be better than me.”
I am Vincent Glover, Jr. I am from abandoned houses. From playing ball and rapping, I am from flooding basements, Mildew, paint chipping, centipedes running wild. I am from boys and girls raising themselves, Lost with no hope, in an area of poverty. I’m from family gatherings and funterals. From Vinne the Nut and Nicolet. I’m from barbequing and arguing. From “Don’t grow up to be like me” and “You have to graduate from high school.” I’m from sex, money, murder. From I94 interstate, Fried chicken and Baked Mac and Cheese.