She Never Broke Her Promise! by Joshua "Pharaoh" Smith

Joshua “Pharaoh” Smith

She Never Broke Her Promise!

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.

She Never Broke Her Promise!

Joshua “Pharaoh” Smith

Well, I’m 44 years old at the moment, born and raised in the Chicago Woodlawn and Roseland areas, and I have been through hell and hot water in that time. So picking a certain memory would be me writing all damn day.

But I can hit you with a time in my life that hurt like hell, and affected me in a way that I had to grow up too soon. So here is the time in my life I picked to share.

So I wasn’t fortunate enough to have normal dreams and goals like other kids. I didn’t want to be a lawyer, doctor, teacher, or even a firefighter. I dreamed about fast money, cars, girls, and holding down the block with the guys. I wanted to be a “gangsta.”

Fast money was the norm for me and my guys until the big secret got out and brung my world down on my shoulders. When I was 13 years old, I was hustling on the block in Woodlawn with some of the guys, just kickin it, and cracking jokes. So one of my jokes to my guy was “Why do yo mama say take yo shoes off in my house? When she know damn well y’all carpet dirty as hell.”

Everyone was laughing and pointing at him, pushing him and teasing him. Then he said, “That’s cool, I’m gonna buy me a big house with clean carpet with the money I make from serving yo mom.” The crowd got quiet as hell for a second. It didn’t dawn on me what he said, until the crowd busted out, laughing and pointing at me. I couldn’t take it. I lost it.

I took clean off on him. Blow after blow till the guys broke us up then. Back then gangbangin had rules. I actually got violated for that because I fucked him up. But the violation ain’t what hurt me, what hurt me the worst is the way I found out, and the fact that my mom was a crackhead. That shit opened up my eyes to a lot of shit that happened and why.

Who stole my game system? Who stole my new clothes that I stole? Who stole the jewelry that I stole? Who took the food I put in my crib? If it wasn’t her, it was one of her friends.

That’s when I took my first real look at her, and I hated it. I hated what she had become, and the fact that everyone knew before me.

Hell, now that I think about it, the signs was always there and has been there. I guess that’s the reason why we kept getting evicted over and over. That’s why we went from shelter to shelter.

I’ve been to so many grammar schools because of that. Eight different schools. I wasn’t in one school long enough to have friends and get to know them. Stuff like that made me give up in school.

I used to hear, “say no to drugs,” “ save your money, and spend it wisely,” “Be careful who you hang with,” “never give up” and “ do not steal.” Unbelievable! How she gonna preach those things to me when she doing the polar opposite. Real hypocrite. I feel like she gave up, so why listen to her? So I gave up.

To jump forward some, my freshman year of high school, I didn’t give a fuck. I went to Hyde Park high school, and I stayed in trouble. I was always fighting (gang banging), cutting class, hanging out in all lunch periods, or gym, stealing, and much more. You name it, I probably did it.

The more I saw proof of my mom’s drug use, the worst I became. When I learned the smell of premos (crack plus cigarettes), I learned when to come home or when to stay away. That smell was like a “ do not disturb” sign.

My freshman year at Hyde Park (1993 to 94), I had my own apartment. True story. I lived on 62nd and Ellis in a three-story building. It was six apartments on each floor, three apartments on each side. On each side, it was two upfront and one in the back. Me and my mom stayed in the back apartment and my uncle stayed in the front one.

I heard my uncle was the type that paid his rent a year at a time, not monthly I heard. I don’t remember why he moved, but he did, and my mom moved into his apartment and I stayed in the back one, and that’s when the truth hit me hard.

It was crackheads in and out of her crib all day. The smell of premos was all through the hallways. It was like “ New Jack City” in there. It wasn’t hide-able anymore. So I did me.

The stuff I have seen is too much to put out there so I’m gonna skip some.

One day, me, and my mom had a physical altercation and I ran away from the building.

I was gone for a while, but I got into some bullshit and I came my ass back home.

I really didn’t talk much to my mom. Didn’t know how to approach her. But I wrote her a letter, telling her what I know, how I felt, what I wanted her to do, what her lifestyle was putting me through, and what was I gonna do if she didn’t change.

I got a Uncle I haven’t seen in a while and my family said it was because he went in rehab. I found out what rehab was and told my mom I want her to go.

1994, sometime in July, my mom made me a promise“: if I go to rehab, you have to get your shit together, too. No

We celebrate her

trouble, get good

sobriety

grades, or at least

anniversary every

try, and no

year, because that

tattoos.” Of

day was our

course, I said, OK,

turning point.

not really believing

Throughout those

her. But Sho’Nuff,

years, we became

August 4, 1994, my

best friends, my

mom sent me to

ride, or die to this

live with my

day and beyond.

granddad on 103rd

I’m proud of her.

and she went out west to New Beginning Recovery home and been clean 29 years now.

So, of course, I didn’t really keep my end of the promise. When I got back to the hundreds, I didn’t get worse but I didn’t get better neither. But every time I got in trouble, my mom came all the way from out west. Johnny on the spot. She never missed a beat.

I went to Corliss high school. My sophomore year, I got into so much trouble. Still, gangbangin was gangbangin. And those days Corliss was a multi gang school. It was fights like clockwork every Friday because you can’t get suspended on Fridays.

The beginning of my junior year. I got kicked out. “OK, let me explain.” It wasn’t totally my fault. There are three houses in Corliss “A.B.C”. Each one had a principal. House C principal used to walk around with a wooden paddle. One day I cut class and went to house “C” lunch. As I bent over a table, flirting with a female, next thing I know “pow,” a painful shot to my ass. It was so painful. I stood straight up and turned around, he stood there with that paddle in his hand, smiling at me.

Everyone was laughing. This made me mad so I stole clean off on his ass. I got expelled, and my granddad kicked me out. So I had to go out west with my mom, in rehab.

I have met so many kids who have been through the same stuff I’ve been through. It was crazy the stories we share. Good thing about going with my mom is I met one of my best friends “Nee” there. I even got two beautiful daughters from her. Sidebar (and before my other daughters trip, all y’all are beautiful and I love you all equally. )

So now that I look back, I realize two things. One, she went through it, so I wouldn’t. To this day, I never did drugs, or cigarettes, because of what I saw with her.

And two, she was always my “ride or die”. She might not have given me what I wanted, but I always got what I needed. Even in this situation, my mom, the only one that won’t let me down. So I’m going to end this memory with a quote

2Pac, Dear Mama : “Even as a crack fiend, mama, you always was a black queen, mama I finally understand for woman it ain’t easy, trying to raise a Man… There’s no way I can pay u back, but my plan is to show you that I understand, you are appreciated!!! “

Dear God,

Please send me an angel.

Please place me in her heart.

I’m waiting patiently on you.

I don’t know where we are In this journey of life.

I’m hoping that whomever you have for me is healed, patient, consistent, and up front with their being.

Please help me love her properly and to treat your daughter like a queen.

To be her peace and tranquility.

To feed and nourish her.

To care for our family and whatever that may mean for each of us.

To be proud of who she is and how she continues to grow.

To value what we share so that we can be in unison.

And please help us to be equally yoked…

Thanks for sending me an Angel!

Amen

Joshua (Pharaoh) Smith I AM FROM I am from Roseland Area and screaming wheels on Fridays From Palmer Park and Old Fashion Donuts I am from Gately Park, High School Battle Royals I am from when people fought with fist And people lived to fight the next day I’m from mama’s the baby boy to the only boy From mama’s spaghetti And from mama’s whippings I’m from being no good To being the best at what I did I’m from dying and being reborn To walking from the dark into the light I’m from the southside, the Wild 100s From the Taste of Chicago and Home of the Hogy From Jackie and JT I am from the way you start is the way you finish

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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