Mommy....I Didn't Know by NEFFEW

NEFFEW

Mommy....I Didn’t Know

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 and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives.

Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in 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 narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities.

While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by 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 illustrated books.

This project is being supported, in whole or in part, by federal award number ALN 21.027 awarded to Cook County by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.

Mommy....I Didn’t Know NEFFEW

as easy cago, Howard St. to be exact, it wasn’t Growing up on the far North Side of Chi gun In a neighborhood full of drug wars and as most people would think it would be. hews. household alongside my nieces and nep violence, I was raised in a single parent

Mom did whatever it was she had to do to make sure everyone was OK. She would always tell us “You kids have a life good here. You’d never survive in Jamaica. You all complain too much.” I never used to listen to anything she was saying because I was always in the streets anyways.

I always wanted my own. I felt what she gave wasn’t enough. So I went out to get it. Sleeping in hallways, totaled cars and abandoned apartments. This was all I thought life would end to be. So as mommy’s saying she had life harder, I couldn’t see or understand it with the streets being my father figure in life.

Even though mommy wasn’t in the streets the streets knew mommy. She owned a hair salon/barber shop on Howard, that’s been there before I was even born. That shop fed and sheltered us for as long as I can remember.

It was times when we had no place to go so we would even sleep in the shop. Life was ruff coming up. I didn’t care what anyone said and even with no home to go to like other kids mommy would still always say, “You kids have life good here. You would never understand a real struggle. You would never understand what it took for you to be where you are right now.

You son just don’t know the sacrifices it took for you to have everything you see now.”

e in f but it was at that on of it d he us br I n ai ack male rstand and ag being just a young bl And no I didn’t unde ill, st en ev t Bu . up my conscience particular that it ate r I turned to with a single mothe ot older so whatever OG. G ns ea m y an by e in m s). I gotta get d. my father (the street ded and then expelle en sp su ng tti ge d an ol started skipping scho

ta catching cases, just trying to ge r, nte ce n tio ten de ile en juv In and out of the re. I aded, stubborn and wanting mo he rd Ha t. en nm viro en my to dollar, I adapted consequences. ver caring about my actions or wanted what other kids had, ne

Sitting in a single cell mommy’s words just playing in my head over and over, “You have a good life. You would never understand the sacrifices I had to make and risk,” playing in my head over and over. “Son Son, I can’t lose you to the streets.”

At this time I was released on electronic monitoring and again mommy’s words playing in my head over and over again. But I’m fresh out of jail so it’s so many things going on in front of me. Still I’m thinking I got life ruff. Just look what I go through. Up until one day….

I had movement to take some drug assessment classes. Leaving class on my way home, I decided to stop at the shop just to tell mommy Hi and see if she needed any help. It was a Monday and that’s her cleaning day and the day most stores on Howard are closed.

Remembering this day like yesterday, I walked in to see her mopping the floor listening to reggae gospel music. I said, “Wassup. Mommy you good?” She goes, “Me alright son son. Me just want you to listen and do betta. You ah me one an only bwoy. Me cyant lose you to de streets. Me tek nuff risk just so you cyan have a betta life.”

I go “o-jigga. I hear you. You say it all the time but I go through a lot here too.

You say you took risk? What risk?” She stops mopping and looks at me as the music plays I Can Feel and an intense energy in the air like the air’s so thick of intensity you can cut through it with a pair of scissors. She then puts the mop back in her bucket, walks to the front of the shop where I was

still standing because the floor was wet and I didn’t want to get yelled at Wet Flooorrr! Don’t move! like she usually says when someone walks in while she’s cleaning.

She comes turns off the front shop lights and says, “Come son. Come to de back. I don’t want nobody thinking I’m open right now. Let me come tell you my story baby. The reason you’re able to walk in this country in those shoes on this street.”

She turns down the music just a little as she begins to tell her story. “Growing up wasn’t easy fi me baby bwoy. Given to my grandparents from my mom at the age of 3 they raised me in Manchester, Jamaica. Bush! We call it. We didn’t have anything you all have here.

I was raised off growing food to eat, fetching wate r to drink, and strict discipline. It was many of us in one house at a time. There were 12-16 people under one roof and we all shared everything we had whether it was a pair of shoes or a t-shirt just to go to school. We didn’t have money. We grew surviving off the bare minimum to none but my grandparents made sure we were all ok.

It was very very ruff up until I was 16 years old. I went back to the town I was born in, Kingston. I lived there in the city for about 6 more years. I then connected with your Aunt in the Bahamas who sent me an invitation letter so I can get to the Bahamas. I had no papers. You needed invitation letters to get to certain places under certain circumstances back then.

Coming to Freeport Bahamas with nothing, I didn’t have a workers’ permit. I used to wash and iron clothes for people to save my money up. I wanted to get to the States some way, somehow. So I slaved everyday just to survive and to get a chance at a better life in the US. Being so much closer and it being easier. See back home seeing the States was impossible back then only lord knows.

All I could think about everyday was seeing my mom in Miami. A close friend of mines had some people in high places who knew a lawyer who had a connection to me on a ship. It costed me $600 to get a pass. This was the scariest moment in my life. I’ve never took a risk like this

before and still to this day I never have. I remember this day, as it was just last night. I knew that if I was to ever get caught immigration would try to bury me under the jail, ship me back to Jamaica and lose me in the system.

and himself. He said he’d never done this this ng doi of d ifie terr s wa yer law The sent a lot of my belongings back to ady alre had I in. aga it do er nev he would h nothing (a cruise ship to be exact.)

Jamaica. I was boarding the ship wit

g, the boat with no extra luggage checkin off and on one 1st the be to d nte I wa t side the lawyer’s office my friend wen out ng ndi sta I’m as So g. ckin che no bag t His office wasn’t too far from the boa r. ove s pas g rdin boa the rred sfe in. He tran ut and ds of people all around out and abo docking entrance. There were hundre ,a s of waiting for my friend to come out out of the blue, after about 45 minute g d a pass at my feet, and kept walkin strange white lady bumped me, droppe rs, “Don’t lose me.” without looking back. And she whispe

I looked down at it nervous. I was trembling with fear not trying to believe this pass was for me. My friend started yelling at me “Ver ona! Pick it up. Go. It’s for you. Go! Hurry up and make haste and move.”

I still stood there stuck with fear having nothing but regrets until my friend picked it up for me, put it in my hand and pushed me. I followed her quickly, trying to keep up. We boarded a small bus with the rest of the people who were boarding the ship as well. She sits down next to me not saying a single word. At this point I’m ready to run because I couldn’t even believe this was going on in front of me right now.

k. on the bus. We pull to the boating doc ped hop I n whe her see n’t did I nd.

I lost sight of my frie disappeared. Now the lady who was just by my side. She Everyone gets off. I then lost sight of

e many ding their boarding passes. There wer han is e ryon eve as rn retu no of nt poi I’m at a out of place. me all the more nervous. I looked so de ma ch whi rd boa on ting get ple wealthy peo

I handed my pass and got on the ship petrified. Every second I just wanted to jump off into the water and swim away. Immigration, the water police and more were scattered all around the area. The boat sailed off. I couldn’t find my friend or that strange woman who I was following.

alone, afraid of every person who She left and I never seen her again. Standing as if I was a deaf person who only came up to me making conversation. I acted tal disability so people wouldn’t bother knew sign language. I acted as if I had a men knowing what to do. I couldn’t trust me. Sounds funny but it was traumatizing, not anyone or anything. Whew!

pushed in. It was the strange I went into the bathroom and Boom! I was suddenly to her as she stuck it in her lady. She said, “give me the pass.” I handed it over off the boat. Many have out of crotch and she told me “Whatever you do don’t jump police. You’ll be ok, don’t speak fear and they either drowned or got caught by the to no one”.

Waiting in a kids’ gaming room where I sat scared for my life, thinking every second to myself it’s not too late to jump and swim back. I’ll never get into Miami. I’m about to get caught, please lord protect me. Until my friend comes out the blue and just like that all my worries were over, gone in an instant.

The ship made it to Miami where a lot of people were standing at the boat docking and among them was my mom who I had know clue what she looked like in person. I had only seen pictures. Nevertheless we didn’t have time to look for her as we were the 1st to get off because we didn’t have luggage and I didn’t have papers or a pass. We had to move quick fast and discreet. Blending in the crowd full of people.

We ran to the 1st taxi in sight and gave him mom’s address and soon the rest was history.

But this is the story on how you are able to live such a life of freedom you live today.

The shop you're standing in right now is all blood, sweat, risk, losses and tears. But I always leave everything in God’s hand. Nothing was easy but all things are possible.”

ry of coming d picturing mom’s sto an f el ys m to ing ink th ing and I sat home alone just y as her only son think ilt gu lt fe I n. ai ag er ov n become to America over and came here so you ca e Sh o. br r tte be do tta rough. She saying to myself you go me from and been th ca e sh at wh an th r tte something bigger & be ve a life in the Land of ha n ca u yo so st ju ot one sh risked her freedom at Freedom.

I was just stuck in a daze at this moment because I never knew or understood what she was saying until now. It was from that moment on forward in my life I started to move more with a purpose. As I hugged her tightly for too many minutes to remember, I hurried on home because my house arrest curfew was at its peak.

So up until this day I make sure no matter what it is I do I make it count for the better. Mom didn’t come here for no reason. I look at life itself totally different now and understand that I got life good and Ima make the best out of life and I also promised her too. Your generation and the world will know your story. You are the strongest person I know and I’m blessed to have you as a mother as well. I couldn’t ask for it any other way. I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t know, but I do now.

Neffew I Am I am from Howard Street From the North Pole and Taetown I am from Little Jamica of Chicago I am from where the environment is diverse And many different ethnicities I’m from Jamrock and Lil Ace From the Basketball courts of Reba And from the Heart of the Lions I’m from hard ears must feel And from nuh follow unda no mon I’m from christianity/Jah I’m from Evanston/Rogers Park From curry chicken, jerk chicken, rice and peas with rum punch From Verona I am from the heart of the stars

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

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