The Art Of Standing Out

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“Until the lion writes his own story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.”

The Soy Autor writing process was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017, this innovative program launched at Cook County Jail with young men awaiting trial for violent offenses. Through the process of drafting, revising, illustrating and publishing memoirs, the Authors’ Circle develops reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie, conflict resolution and positive self-projection.

In collaboration with:

Cook County Sheriff’s Office

The Art of Standing Out Kevin A.

The constant jokes were coming in from every corner of the locker room now, all about my sneakers. I had my eyes upon everyone else’s labeled basketball gear, which included Nike headbands, NBA replica jerseys with matching shorts and most importantly no one had on SHAQ sneakers, except for me, which were worn and scued. I mean what else were sneakers for? As I kept quiet, it was brought to my aaennon that everyone had a pair of sneakers that were for basketball and a pair that were meant to go with casual streetwear. This scene was all new to me. I had some catching up to do.

I could care less about a uniform, or clothes for that maaer. I was too busy trading cards or talking about the latest Pokemon television series in the school yard, which I was on top of. I always had the latest cards, the newest Game Boy, Pokemon games and was admired by my peers at school because of it.

Being talked about by my peers at Amusement Park because of something I didn’t have was all new to me, and it wasn’t something I was sure I could adjust to.

It was now the summer of 2004 and the Kids Basketball Associaaon at Amusement Park was coming to an end. Me and Dae Dae, the tall kid who first cracked the jokes on my SHAQ sneakers, were now close friends. We were both known for keeping on the latest pair of AF1s. However, I had yet to start a trend at Amusement Park, but I was determined to before the end of KBA.

I’d recently came across a book that talked about the history of basketball. In that book, they talked about the first sneakers worn on the basketball court. Chuck Taylor’s Converse All-Stars. I’ve seen them a few mes, but never took a liking to them. Unnl then. If the first players of basketball wore them, heck, I might as well bring them back like a Michael Jordan throwback jersey.

As I got out of the car to enter Amusement Park in my red Akademic shirt, my khaki cargo shorts and my red Chucks, my heart was pounding. “What are they going to think about my Converse as I walk into the locker room?” But I had to quickly pull myself together. Who cares what they think, these are fresh out the box and I’m going to walk with my head held high, as if I had on the latest pair of AF1s on my feet.

I am from 3-piece suits, from Stacey Adams and Penny Loafers.

I am from the two-flat apartment building,

old, yet modern, with grass as green as Gumby.

I am from the vacant lot filled with dirt, rocks, and dandelions.

I’m from summer Bar-B-Q’s and Thanksgiving parades.

I’m from the corner store runs and restaurant gatherings, from my Dad telling me, “Be a Marine,” and my Mom telling me, “Get a college education.”

I’m from the Baptist Church where friends turn into family, from East Garfield Park,

Wallace’s Fish & Rib Tips, Al’s Polish and Cheeseburgers,

from the Grandad that is aged but young, the cousins that are like my siblings, the fireplace to the right of the piano, from the basement to the attic, buildings filled with stories.