The Deep End

Devin Boyland

The Deep End

The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people who are 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 collaborated with the Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Division X of 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 narrative about violence and peace-building, and help author a hopeful future for these men, their families, and our collective communities.

While each memoir's text is solely the work of the Author, the images used to create this book's illustrations have been sourced from 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 fully illustrated books.

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The Deep End Devin Boyland

The night before I almost died, me and a couple of my homies decided that we were going to the pool the following day. The texts sent back and forth in the group were on just one thing, one little problem.

I couldn’t swim.

I had to find a way to not show up to the pool, and find an excuse how I showed up to the gym afterwards. But, then I got a third idea: I could learn to swim, in the few hours before we were set to flip into the pool.

With the help of some YouTube videos and a couple of WikiAnswers posts, I “dove right in,” stretched out on the bed, hands cupped to propel the “water.” I kicked with a flutter while waving my arms. I gave a whole new meaning to freestyle.

To practice my breathing, I filled my sink to the top and plunged my head in, trying to hold my breath in for the whole forty-five seconds before the water drained out. No lie, by the end of the night, I felt pretty confident.

The next morning I woke up early, early enough to “swim a couple more laps� before getting out of bed.

I changed into my swim trunks, which until then had only been used for waterslides and modeling (by which I mean beach days).

I then ran upstairs to prepare a light breakfast, which consisted of an egg and a piece of bread, to avoid cramping. I made one last stop before I left the house; there was already liquid in the pool, and I didn’t want to add any of my own.

I hopped on the bus and the first thing I heard was, “Thank you for riding the CTA.” I rode the bus to Piotrowski Park, arriving at the park ten minutes before everyone else. When everyone arrived, we went downstairs to go to the pool, got in the shower, then headed up. We made it to the pool.

I stopped at the shallow end, and I turned my head; everyone else was at the deep end, yelling, “Come on, we have to all dive in together! Didn’t you see the group messages?” I started to walk down to the other side of the pool with my stomach upside down and my heart inside out.

Thinking in my head, Naw, I didn’t see the group messages. I was too busy trying to figure out how to swim. I didn’t want to be the only one in the group in the five feet, and I didn’t want them not to have fun. So, it was my job to learn the night before. I made it to the other side of the pool, and Juan asked everyone if they are ready.

We responded with a bunch of yeah’s, including me, but in reality I was scared as shit.

Right now you might be thinking, why am I scared? Wasn’t I just confidant a few minutes ago, and learned how to swim the night before?

Everybody backed up to the wall. All I heard was, “One, two, three,” and at that exact moment, my heart was going boom boom boom boom.

Everyone ran off, and I grabbed my homie Lloyd’s arm and told him, “I don’t know how to swim.” He laughed and asked, “Why didn’t you say that last night ?” I shrugged my shoulders and told him, “I didn’t want to spoil everyone's fun, trying to help me learn to swim.” He told me he would teach me how to swim, but first I had to face my fears. He told me to jump in the pool and swim back to the side with a serious look on his face. I took his advice, and ran and jumped into the pool.

I forgot what I learned. I got scared and started crying underwater, which I thought was impossible before. I felt about ten hands on me, pulli ng me up towards the wall. Lloyd asked me, “Why did you jump all the way in the middle?” before saying I was supposed to jump far enough that it would only take three strokes to get back to the wall. I didn’t hear all of that; I just jumped in.

I told Lloyd that I wasn’t jumping into that side of the pool anymore. So he decided to teach me how to swim for real this time, on the shallow end. We were in the pool for about two and a half hours before I got the hang of it. The first thing Lloyd told me to do was to hold the wall and kick my legs in an up-and-down motion, to strengthen my muscle memory for when I do swim, so I would have that part down pat.

I learned and practiced this the night before, but this time it felt official, because I was in the water and didn’t have a bootleg teacher (WikiAnswers).

Doing this for another ten minutes, we moved on to something else, my strokes. While Lloyd held my ankles, I began swinging my arms forward one after another, palms down but cupped to propel the water, which I also learned the night before.

Next was my first test, which was swimming from the middle of the pool to the side. I used what he taught me to succeed. Lloyd tried to teach me more things like treading water, and floating on my stomach and back, but I denied it because I was eager to swim. One stroke after another, one kick after another, I was doing it.

I was swimming and glad. So in that case, it was my second time learning how to swim.

The following week, my brothers and I were going to hoop that Saturday at the park, but we had four hours before the gym opened. So we decided to go swimming for the time being. While trying to pass time, I decided to teach my younger brothers to swim.

I know what you might be thinking: How can I teach them how to swim when I learned to swim a week ago? I believed it was important for me to teach them how to swim so they wouldn't learn like I did. It was also important to me because that moment was special; it was a close, bonding, brotherly time.

Trying to teach two kids how to swim at the same time was difficult, but I was up for the challenge.

They've been to the pool before, but never tried to swim. After thirty minutes, Ethan gave up and said he just wanted to play and have fun. I figured that Noah wanted to stop also, but didn't want to disappoint me.

The determination in my trying to teach Noah, and the determination in Noah trying to learn how to swim. He still didn't learn that day, because it was time to leave the pool.

We got out, showered, and headed to the gym to hoop for the day. Later that day, we played the game all night into the morning.

I learned and taught something I have never done before, and I was proud.

Devin Boyland I am from ironing, From starch, and ranch dressing.

I am from rugs in almost every room, Tasty-smelling food cooking in the kitchen.

I am from tall weeds, sticky bugs, the scent of outside Sticking to your clothes in almost every way.

I’m from females being the firstborn and bushy eyebrows, From Isiah and Sarah.

I’m from BBQs and road trips, From “you can be whatever you want and more.”

I’m from a Christian family that needs to be closer to God. I’m from Chicago and Arkansas, Neck bones, fried fish.

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