Revolution Of Pain

Revolution Of Pain

Eric D. Blake

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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Revolution Of Pain Eric D. Blake

In the year 1994, I was born, living in the house next to a happy family of four—my best friend Wyatt, his brother, his parents. We grew up together, playing baseb all and football. With the kids in the block, we went to the same school on 31st and Loomi s, Holden Elementary School.

We were always in the same class every day of our lives. We played together with our G.I. Joes, cars. Anything we could do to have fun, we did.

, where he had to move

house caught on fire vastating night when his

Until one de changing my life.

to Wisconsin,

Why? Why so far away? He and his fam ily would visit the neighborhood, and I would still see him once in a while, but not like how I use d to. I was lost.

I wanted to be like my father. He was locked up most of my life. When I used to receive his mail as a little boy, I would be so happy that I’d rip open the envelope as fast as I could. I would read the letter and get right to writing him back.

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As I grew older though, I started to write less.

Being raised in a city like Chicago without a father is really hard. Growing up, he wasn’t around to teach me on how to grow. Instead I had myself, but I was growing all wrong. My wrongs and rights were complete opposite, but to me they weren’t.

I followed all the wrongs and avoided all the rights. I wish I had my father to teach me all those problems, but instead he was in prison, missing my childish moments.

After high school, I started to get into some things. I started staying out late, sometimes not even going home. Staying out, doing grown-people stuff at a very young age.

I stopped going to school, because I thought it wasn’t for me. That started it all, to my downfall and the wrong path I chose. I look back at those days, wishin g I would have done different, prepared myself for a better future.

Time af norm ter time of al. It s l tarted osing fam ily when I was or friends. young Each t , but I kept ime got wo r the p ain in se, but it s . tarte

d to f

eel

That created a monster, but I didn’t

let it bother me. But all it did was buil

d pain and anger.

I fell off track and got myself in positions that made my life harder. I kept going through mistakes, not realizing I could have done better than I was doing.

I remember those long nights, livin g in pain, where I was stuck rem iniscing about the day my best friend flew away.

’Til this day, I am devastated, asking, How could he do such a thing?

I had many suicidal thoughts due to this human being, but who am

I to blame him for my misery?

I can remember the day like it was yesterda y. It was an early morning to be exact. It was his graduation day, but sadly it was his final day.

The worst is that his lovely mother had to find him in this horrible tragedy.

Every day above ground, I’ll think of him with a frown, praying and hoping he will return to town. Every day since his passing, my life has been up and down.

Living every day like it’s my last. Years and the days go by fast, like no other, but now I’m out of that dark past.

Some days, I wish my mind was blind so I didn’t have to visualize the days from behind.

I’m finally growing out of the pain, but losing my best friend will always remain the same.

The hardest thing in life is to let a loved one go and to move forward without them remaining in your life. I struggle today with my battles, but the biggest war I have is with me, myself, and I.

The message here is that you are never alone.

There’s always someone out there that cares for you, so before you make a decision to take your life, think about the people that love you to the fullest. Because all the pain you have will be ten times worse on them.

You will get through what you’re going throu

gh. Just have patience.

Eric D. Blake I am from Grandma’s house, From clean clothes and cooked food.

I am from the Bridgeport neighborhood, Maxwell’s, Freddies, Ricobene’s.

I am from the pair on the block, Hills, bricks, and cats.

I’m from bowling and movies.

I’m from Bears and White Sox, From coupons and Link.

I’m from jokes and fun.

I’m from Chicago, Bacon-wrapped hotdogs, sloppy joes, From the funny Polaks.

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