lost & FOUND

lost & FOUND

Eduardo A.

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.

In collaboration with

lost & FOUND Eduardo Aleman

In the beginning of life, one believes that it should be happy with good parents and the best brothers and sisters. But what happens when life isn’t like that? When one lives with fear, with fright, and so much violence? Without wanting to speak from fear of saying the wrong thing?

Well, one must make the best of it and bring out the best of those moments to keep going and live life. I’m gonna tell you an episode of my life.

I was a little boy. Short, slim, with my hair combed to the side as one should for church, except that was my daily hairdo. I also grew up believing life was good with no bad. That everything is beautiful, with flowers and no worries. When I would go to school, I would go with such a smile that even I would believe it.

But on the inside, that smile wasn’t real. At school everything was good with my grades: good participation, and good attendance. But at home, that smile wouldn’t even make it to my room.

Inside my house was a monster that I would fear a lot. This monster was real violent and liked yelling and drinking beer. But the beer wasn’t the problem-- the problem was when IT was sober.

With beer, IT was my best friend. When IT was sober, there wasn’t a day that the monster wouldn’t bother me.

While IT was watching TV, IT would have a daily list of chores for me which would include cleaning the house, making meals for my siblings, feeding the dog, cleaning after the dog, making sure my siblings would do their homework, making sure my siblings were in bed on time, that they are on time for school. All these and many more, for my mother would be at work.

All these and many more, for my mother would be at work.

When I would hear the garage door open, I would run around the house making sure everything was in order. When I heard the garage door opening, I knew IT was home. When I would hear the monster, I would also run and try to hide from it. But as hard as I would try, it was no good.

This monster would make my life impossible. The monster would have me working alongside it.

It would help me with my homework but even with that I had fear. I feared it because every time I would give a wrong answer, IT gave a smack to the back of my head. With me being scared at the time, I made tons of mistakes. For IT, everything I did was wrong and bad in its eyes.

Whether it was that I got a B or C on my report card, not cleaning my room ITs way, or not being able to lift objects twice my weight. So, to make it right, this monster would yell and hit me. It would leave me awake most nights until I finished all my chores.

I hated this monster with all my soul but at the same time I loved IT.

Standing next to this monster was like standing next to a house compared to me, a dwarf.

On its head, it only had shades of black on the sides, but most of the time nicely shined and polished. This monster was like a tank on two tree trunks. It was as if its hands were made out of a knight’s armor and covering all of that was baby powder. For those of you who are still wondering who this “Monster” is, IT’s my father.

I love him because he made me a strong man, disciplined and responsible. I give him thanks for making me who I am today. I love working with my hands no matter what it is, especially construction and concrete work. I give it all my strength when a problem comes up.

One must take the good out of the bad because all experiences have good lessons. Life is living one day at a time, taking the good out of all moments.

My Father was with us ever since we were born. When he left, I was real happy but at the same time I was sad.

Happy because no one was gonna hit me or force me to work anymore.

Sad because I wasn’t gonna have anybody who would push me forward and discipline me to be the best in life.

I was in the 6th grade when he left us. He didn’t say anything or even make some type of sign that he was leaving. At first, I was blaming myself that he had left. I thought I had messed up on something real bad, so for the next few months I was breaking my head to find out what that was.

At the same time I was looking for him. It was like a piece of me went missing and now I was on a hunt to get it back.

I had started asking his close friends around the neighborhood about him and hoping they knew where he was. Everyone I asked just kept changing the subject or just simply ignoring me.

My Mother didn’t want to tell me either. She ignored me as much as possible and she would even throw the things he did to me right at my face. But I didn’t care, she wasn’t around. She was always at work, and even when she was around, she wouldn’t help or even say a thing, not even comfort or make me feel better.

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Up to today, I don’t see his way of treating me as bad. I see it as he wanted the best for my future. It wasn’t always beatings and yelling. We also had happy moments, like when he would take me to work with him. There were times when we didn’t do anything at all, just drive all around the city showing me the streets, restaurants, and different routes. He was teaching me.

Those were on working mornings.

On the weekends, he would take me along to my Uncle's house so he could play poker or pool.

Meanwhile, I was playing what they played, but when my Cousins were home I would play with their remote control cars or with their video games. When we would go to parties, he would send all the women so I can dance with them. He wouldn’t give me a chance to even sit for a bit. After the parties, he would take us out to restaurants.

He would take us to the park every weekend with my Cousins from morning until almost 7pm.

He gave me the opportunity, along with my Brother and Sister, to meet our Grandparents. We stayed with them for almost a year in Guerrero, Mexico. The year after that, he left the house and never returned.

As soon as my Father left, my grades at school dropped to C’s and D’s and sometimes F’s. I started to hang around the streets more often. I was hardly at home, only to make sure my siblings were ok. I started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, which is where I met my new family: the streets and gangs.

When I graduated 8th grade, it was through summer school although I knew for a fact that I could’ve graduated like everyone else in my gown and hat along with my school mates because I was a real smart kid. When I went to high school, I started ok with all A’s and B’s for the first quarter. At the time I was already in the gangs.

A couple friends told me there were oppositions in the JROTC program in school. So, I did all I could to join the program, which I did on the second week of the semester. As soon as I was in the program, and after I got my P.E. jumpsuit and my green JROTC suit, I was on the hunt for the opposition.

When I found out who the oppositions were, and before I put action on them, they changed schools.

So, I ended up staying in the program just in case. I met new people and I'm not gonna lie: I liked it- the teachers, the programs, the classes.

Most of all, I liked the yelling and the discipline they put on us on the P.E. classes which was just shy of an army base. I even joined the saber team and performed in the Thanksgiving parade Downtown.

It was on the first week of January that I saw my dad’s brother. He lived 5 hours from us. He was always my favorite uncle to be around, always giving me good advice and whatever I asked for no matter what that was. We started catching up on our lives. I told him everything I had been through, because I never lied to him out of the love and respect I had for him. I asked him about my father and he told me little about him because he hardly saw or spoke to him. He did give me my father’s phone number. So, the next day I called my father.

I was shaking from head to toe, sweat running out of my body, and my mind was blank without any words. Ring, ring, ring. No answer. Ring, ring, ring. No answer. I tried it one last time. Ring, ring.

“Hello?” It was a female. Now I’m at even more of a loss of words. Maybe my Unc gave me the wrong number. “Is this Cesar’s number?” I asked. “Yes, hold on, I’ll get him. Who’s this by the way?” she said. “Jonathan.” “Hello,” said a deep grumpy voice that I was so afraid of before. At the same time, my heart missed a beat. I was relieved and thinking to myself, “I found him.”--

”Who’s this?” he said. “It’s me, Jonathan.” “Jonathan?” “Yes, your son.” It seemed as if there was an hour in silence, just deep breathing from both sides. --”Hello?” I said. “Yeah, I’m still here. You caught me off guard, that’s all. I was expecting this call but not this soon. How did you get my number? As a matter of fact, forget I asked that. What matters is you found me. How are you doing?” “I’m alright, still taking care of my siblings, staying at home.” Which was half a lie, because I was never home, just to check on my siblings and change clothes either for school or the streets. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m at home doing my homework.” Another lie. “That’s good. I see you’re keeping up the good work.”

“Yeah, I’m in the JROTC program with all of my classes being more advanced than the average.” “That’s real good.” We kept asking each other more about our lives and what was going on for a half hour.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked me. “I’m not doing anything. Why, what’s up?” “You wanna go out and eat for old time’s sake?” “Yea, that’s cool.” “Alright, I’ll pick you up around 4 in the evening.”

“Ok,” and we hung up.

The next day, we met at 4 o’clock and went to a burger spot that we used to go to everyday when we would go to work. The whole time since he picked me up, we started asking each other any other question and avoided the most important: “Why did he leave the way he did?”

By the end of the evening, I found out he had a baby boy of a year old and a new girlfriend. At first, I was devastated.

For the next month, we talked more and more. Eventually, I got to meet his new family and moved in with them. Everything was alright. I was going to school more often; my grades were even better. I was even on Honor Roll in most of my classes.

Or, so I thought everything was alright, until my father left once more without a word to anyone.

This time it wasn’t a surprise to me, because I saw signs of him eventually wanting to leave. I still talk to my step brother and his mom. She’s a good person. I ended up leaving their house and went back to the streets, and dropped out of school . I chased the fast money and not my future and education.

Life taught me that there are always gonna be losses and wins. Mostly losses, but good always comes back hard. I now have two daughters who are a reflection of me, literally: short, light complected, and intelligent. I always stuck to them and them to me because I was there since they were born. They always have all the love and care that I was missing.

Life goes on and must be lived one day at a time, and as if it’s the last day to live. So, what is life?

Eduardo Aleman I am from Lugz Rice pudding and sweet bread I'm from the tree in front of the window Tall, old, leaning along the roof I'm from watermelons, green outside and red on the inside I'm from partying and playing in parks of Ma Julie and Gramma Lupe I am angry and we take care of each other Always go for the stars and fight until the end I am from La Santa Muerte, protecting and caring I am from Chicago, Il and Guerrero, Mexico Tamales, PozolĂŠ From when JR was hanging and stuck in the fence trying to grab the ball From when Kevin slapped his finger in the fence and almost lost it On the walls of the house are pictures of the very happy moments we had Because life is lived one day at a time And at the same time as if it were the last.

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