Like Father Like Son by Phillip Taplin

Like Father Like S

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Phillip Taplin

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.

Like Father Like Son Phillip Taplin

Hebrew 12:7 It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?

Growing up on the Southside of Chicago, I’ve had my fair share of ups and down, highs and lows. As a kid you don’t really worry much about anything. I just went with the flow of almost everything.

Nothing really matters at the beginning stages of life, just trying to find yourself and where you come from. I can remember living in a three flat building on 61st and Eberhart, 6110 to be exact. A family building.

My uncle Freeman stayed in the basement with his wife and kids, my Grandfather’s mother lived on the first floor, my Grandparents stayed on the second floor, and me, my mother, my sisters and lil brother stayed on the third floor.

Being the oldest male out of four, two girls and two boys, I’ve had the role of “Man of the house” as soon as I was able to tie my own shoes.

My mother being deaf since birth made us have to learn sign language at an early age. I learned enough just to have conversations with her.

Around this time I didn’t know who my father was and never heard many stories about him. We all had different fathers except my two sisters. When I asked my mother, she would tell me “Forget about him. I’m your mother and father.”

My oldest sister use to say they found me on the front porch and she told my Grandparents to keep me. Me being me, I went with the flow.

My Grandmother Anne was the glue to our whole family. She made sure we gathered every holiday and came together for whoever's birthday. She often had family functions like Fish Fry Fridays, Pokeno Night and barbecues on the weekend.

To keep it 100, I didn’t have to sell drugs. That’s a choice I made because I wanted more things. My TeTe made sure I had any and every thing, but I wanted more.

My Grandparents were very old school, so I’ve always had that old school style of teaching and lectures. I didn’t understand the way that they used to discipline us back then, but it installed a lot of principles and values in me till this day. Let’s just say my Grandparents ain’t take no mess in my James Brown voice.

Sometimes when I use to get in trouble my mother would say, “you gone be just like your father.” Even though I didn’t know who he was, my thoughts was Like Father Like Son. I never really knew what she meant at the time. I’d always just go with the flow. Even though I was a lil trouble maker, I would do anything to make them smile.

Around the fourth grade we moved farther out south on 115th St. Me and my siblings moved in with my Grandparents, and my mom stayed on 61st St. in her apartment building. At the time my Grandparents didn’t want us staying with her because she was battling depression and got addicted to drugs.

By the 5th and 6th grade, I’m still trying to figure myself out and it’s certain things only a father can teach a young growing man, certain things a young boi would only love to get from his pops. I had plenty questions about girls and there were plenty times I needed someone to run to, but me just being me, I just went with the flow.

By the 7th grade I found out where my father was the whole time and that was jail. I guess the older you get the better you’ll understand the reason they kept it from me. But hey by that time I was numb to the fact he was gone and basically didn’t exist so I didn’t really care much.

By the 8th grade, I began to receive mail from him. He used to send cartoon drawings and write me letters about how he’s coming to get me when he get home.

One night my Freshman year in high school my Grandmother called me to her room and she says someone is on the phone for me. I grab the phone and it’s Mr. Johnson (my father) on the phone. Even though I’m a teenager at the time, I’m still lost for words.

“Is this really my Dad? What does he look like?” were the thoughts running through my mind. He lets me know its a long story and don’t worry he’ll be home soon. The years pass and no signs of him. The mail and calls stop.

In 2010, I’m out of high school and my girlfriend was pregnant with my first child, a baby boy. At that time I didn’t know if I was ready for a child, but it was too late and too far to turn back now. So I kept faith strong and continued to go with the flow.

Now it’s 2019, I get arrested and been gone a couple of years, the longest away from my son.

All the time I wonder how does it make him feel. Do he really understand it’s by force and not choice.

I want to break the cycle. I want to apply better discipline. I want to be a better figure for my little ones.

Now my son is a teenager and I’m writing him letters and drawing his favorite super heroes with the plans to do better upon my release.

Maybe it’s a genetic thing. I wonder is it just because we share some of the same DNA or maybe it’s Like Father Like Son.

Phillip Taplin I Am From I am from the Southside of Chicago From Whistler Elementary and Fenger High School I am from fish fry Fridays and Pokeno nights I am from Cooper Park Field house and crabapple trees I’m from Anne and Dennis From Mama’s baby, Daddy’s maybe And from one fight, you all fight I’m from always be a leader And from never be a follower I’m from whatever happens in the dark always come to the light I’m from the Wild 100s From barbecue cookouts and cognac From DD and Freeman I am from the struggle, Where once I was lost and now I’m found

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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