My Son Saved My Life

My Son Saved My Life

Maurio “JR” Laye

Until the lion learns to write his own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb 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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My Son Saved My Life Maurio “JR” Laye

Some people would say having a child at a young age is unfortunate, and would lead to parents having hard lives.

Me personally, having my son at an early age saved my life and pushed me to get on the right path. I say that because if it was not for my son being brought into my life, I would have probably ended up either in prison or dead.

My Son Saved My Life Maurio “JR� Laye

February 16th, 2011, at approximately 6:21 a.m., a star was born. I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for you, son. They say you have to sit and analyze a real situation before you take action, and Jimaurio, you were the reason I started to think before I jumped head first into a situation.

a few years, I want you to know your dad is always going to be there for you. I know I have been gone but it was not by choice and I apologize.

I promise I’m going to make things right. As you read, I'm going to show you how you changed my life, son.

I remember me, your grandmother, and your “twin,” your Uncle Dee, moved back to your great-grandparents Nene and Mike Mike house back in 2008. I was a freshman in high school then. I remember going to school in the same old clothes from prior years, and knew my mom was doing the best she could to provide for us.

I had a few buddies from school that stayed around the way, and we had the same interests in getting money. We wanted to rock the latest fashion, you know, clothes, shoes, and the newest cell phone, which the Sidekick was hot in those days. We had to have money for those things, and our parents ain’t have it to give to us. So we did what we had to do to get money. We hit the block and sold weed and rocks.

Over time, our money got right, and me and the guys were feeling ourselves. We were arrogant, over-cocky, and couldn’t be told shit. Before you knew it, we began beefing with other blocks, and that’s how we started to gangbang.

Son, if I knew what I know now, I would have left the foolery alone, but at that time I had no responsibilities so I had no real cares. It started as brawls with the opposition, but as the years went by, them pipes got added to the equation, leading to random shootings and shootouts. Yeah, shit used to get wild.

By 2009 I knew the neighborhood well and was well established.

Son, I remember one day me and the guys went to the back-to-school carnival in Sauk Village.

I remember kicking it with the guys, and talking to a female who I called my sister from around the way. We were standing there talking about this and that at the concession stand, and I remember locking eyes with her friend, this bow-legged girl with a pretty face and a gap when she smiled.

The whole time I’m just standing there looking and thinking like, Damn, I want her pretty ass and she thick. I gotta have her. She fine as hell. I guess your mother was feeling the same way, because when she looked into my eyes, it was like we both felt the same connection. I remember shorty who I called my sister walking up to me later that night like, “My friend Jimmikka like you.” I’m like, “Tell her I said wassup. I want her too,” and the rest was history, son.

I feel like hooking up with your mother was one of the best decisi ons I ever made. Your mother is a strong woman, and she motivated me to do better always . She gave me light to really dark times. In these days, she was my lover, my best friend, and advisor.

She helped me see things clear that I couldn’t see myself. We were a team. I was the muscle and she was the brain. Your mom is one of a kind, for real.

Me and your mom ended up breaking up by the summer of 2010, due to me being a big head and making stupid decisions, chasing other women. I was set to leave to Job Corps because I dropped out of high school the previous year. By the fall, I was enrolled at the Joliet Job Corps Center.

I remember one afternoon I just came from class and was resting in my dorm. Mikka called my phone and told me she was pregnant. I thought she was bullshitting at first, because we had separated months back, so I’m like, Okay, whatever. Then the girl from around the way who I called my sister called me and was like, “J.R., this is not a drill. Mikka is pregnant, bro.”

I was sick, because I was like, How am I supposed to tell my mama? I was 17 at the time so I was stuck, like, Damn, my mom is going to kill me! How am I going to tell her I got a baby on the way? I stayed in my bed a few days from worry. I eventually broke the news to my family, and they were very supportive. I got my GED and left Job Corps.

I had to prepare for you to arrive, my son. I didn’t have a job so I went to what I knew best, hustling on the block, to make something out of nothing. That ain’t really help though. We still had our little war with other blocks going on, and it was hard to make money when you had too much going on. I’m going to keep it real, son: I was still on my stupid shit, indulging in all the beef. I guess reality ain’t hit me yet, but I remember when things did get real.

It was February 15th, 2011. I came in from the block and was laying with your mother, and she started having really bad contractions. I tried to comfort her but she wasn’t having it, pushing me away from her. It’s funny, looking back at the situation, but then at that moment it was not funny at all.

I remember your mother rushing to the bathroom and puking, and sitting in front of the toilet rocking back and forth. She then says, “The baby is coming,” and I got your grandma to take us to the hospital.

I could remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. I could not get a wink of sleep. I couldn’t wait to meet you. I remember sitting in the waiting room, trying to be patient while they prepped your mother to give birth, nervous and excited at the same time, thinking, I’m finally about to meet my baby boy.

The staff finally got your mom prepped, and I was allowed in the delivery room. I was given orders to feed your mother ice chips, I guess to keep her hydrated. She looked so exhausted.

Son, you had her in a lot of pain. Eventually your mother was ready to push. I was given the orders to help hold one of your mother’s legs in position. Both of your grandmothers were in the room. The doctor would count to three, and every time he got to the number 3, Jimmikka was ordered to push as hard as she can.

It didn’t take very long for you to come out once your mother started pushing, and at approximately 6:21 a.m. on February 16th, 2011, my little star was born.

I cut your umbilical cord, and just was stuck glancing at the baby boy who looked just like me. I named you Jimaurio Sincere Laye.

I knew you were my only real best friend. From that point forward, I knew I would do whatever to share that bond with you, as long as I have life in my body.

After you were taken out of the room, Mrs. Holland (your grandma) handed me a pack of Newports and said, “I bought these for you. I know you could use them to calm your nerves.”

I gladly accepted them and walked to the nearest smok ing section. Along the way, I run into your grandfather Big Jimmy. This was my first time meet ing him.

I was kind of skeptical, because I didn’t know what I was getting into. Fathers don’t take kindly to young men getting their daughters pregnant, but Big Jimmy turned out to be understanding and a good advisor. We walked outside and smoked together, and I remember him telling me, “Jimmikka and Jimaurio is your family that you made, and I expec t you to provide for them the best you can.” He also went on to say that Jimmikka is his heart, and she deserves the best.

He also told me to call him if we ever need anything, and basically went on to say don’t let him down. I gave him my word that I had y’all, son.

The whole family slid to the hospital to see you and show support. I was the happiest man on the planet.

At that moment, older family members like your Granddad Maurio and Uncle Kawanno came to me and told me it was time to leave the streets alone, and that it was time to be a man. They told me, “You can’t think about yourself anymore. You have to think about your family.” I remember when we first brought you home, how all of my family and friends were saying that you look just like me.

on his I heard through the grapevine that your Uncle Dee was a little salty that you were born you birthday, and thought you would take his shine. I couldn’t tell though; your uncle loves just as if you were his own son.

I really appreciated all the love and support I was receiving. I couldn’t do nothing but smile. a man After that, I stayed up nights thinking that it’s time to leave the streets alone and become of family.

However, to keep it real with myself, my actions were still the same. I found myself on the block, still hustling and with all that street shit, still drilling on the opposition, still beating niggas, still doing dumb shit that would amount to nothing just to be doing some shit, running with the same crowd, selling drugs, drinking, smoking, and having sex with random women.

I was coming up with money to take care of your own basic needs, but I noticed I still need to do more, because I didn’t want you to need for nothing, period.

One incident made me start to get myself in order and fall back. It happened when a group of boys from around the neighborhood tried to rob our joint on the block, and long story short, I ended up getting shot at, and buckshots ended up lodged in my face. You could still feel the pellets in my face ’til this day.

I remember going to my house to retrieve my pipe from my stash spot. But the whole time, Uncle Kawanno moved it. I then called him and waited for him to pull up. Upon arrival, I told Unc about the situation.

He told me that now was not the time to go and find the person who shot me. That would be some hot shit.

He said I was moving wrong and drawing off emotion due to the fact I was angry somebody attempted to take my life, and drawing off emotion could lead me to getting into a lot of trouble.

He also told me that I have a son at home, and that I have to put my pride to the side and make certain sacrifices, such as not indulging in street shit anymore, to secure a spot in my son's life.

He told me how it would be unfair to you, son, if I put this street shit before you. He then gave me my pistol and let what he said marinate in my head, and gave me the decision to make my own choice.

As bad as I wanted to retaliate, I knew that you and your mother were way more important to me. Unc was right. From that point on, I fell back from the drama in the streets.

I never understood why they said, “Let go and let God,� until that day the same guy who shot me ended up left brain dead from a shooting in another situation. I took it all as lesson learned.

I started working regular nine-to-five. I still hustled the block, but I didn’t depend on that being my primary source of income. I had to do my part until your mother graduated from high school. I would sit with you every day while your mother was at school.

That was our personal bonding time. I truly miss all the moments we spent with one another.

I remember right before your mother graduated high school, I had gotten sent to jail for the first time for a petty charge. It was there that made me reevaluate why I even was in the streets in the first place.

The place stanked, was full of low lifes, and made me feel miserable . A week into my stay at the county jail, I was laying on my bunk reading a book when mail call came. I heard a CO yell, “Laye, you got mail!” I instant ly got curious of who it could be.

It was a letter from your mother.

She told me that she had been acc epted into Northern Illinois Univer sity, and that she had filled out my own application for financial aid too. She demanded that I enroll in college courses upon my release from jail.

If she isn’t an angel sent from heaven, I don’t know what is.

She changed my whole outlo on life. She showed me a wa ok y out of this shit. She put an end to me not knowing where I’m headed in life.

Once my case was dismissed, I enrolled in Kishwaukee College. That fall we moved to DeKalb.

I felt at ease moving away from the Chicago area, because I didn’t have to watch over my shoulders anymore from the numerous enemies I accumulated over the years.

With me being out of danger, I knew my family would not be in danger, so I was able to relax. I felt like we finally made it out the hood. I was able to just focus on us as a family and growth.

Me and you would go to NIU football games. We would spend a lot of time together, just being a family. I would drop you off to daycare every morning and go to class, then pick you up and take you home where your mom would have dinner ready. Then on Friday, there was no school for me, so I would let you stay home with me and we would chill and watch cartoons. Those were good memories.

The whole college experience was good for me, but the way we managed to do everything on our own and take care of you made it a great experience. It showed me how the real world operates.

The college experience made me up my standards in life. I started to experience the finer things, therefore I started to set the bar high for myself.

It made me go hard to meet those expectations.

It really showed me that there was more to life than what I had going on back in the hood.

A year and a half later, I ended up having to leave DeKalb due to the law being on my bumper.

It seemed like they were trying to build a case on me. Soon after, you and your mother moved back home too.

I used what I learned when in DeKalb and applied it to my hustle, and it helped me keep my bills paid.

Money really wasn’t an issue. I grinded and I grinded hard. I owe it all to you, son. You were my motivation for going so hard. I’m so thankful for you. You helped me see that I could not benefit from fighting over a block that doesn’t belong to me. Participating in such activities was a waste of time and was overall a losing situation.

I thank you, son. You helped me see things clearly. You pushed me to focus on what’s important and not the drama that unfolded on the streets. You helped me see there was more to life than what I was seeing and experiencing. You made me want more in life, and made me unafraid to accept change and step out of my comfort zone. Without you, it’s possible that I would still be blinded.

My life has changed for the better since you were born. I now know what is important and what is not. You helped me transition into a man. I had to, in order to be a good example for you. My message to you is that I always want you to strive for success and never settle for less. You come from two smart parents who are leaders, so you already have it in you to be a great leader.

With that being said, I don’t want you to be just like me. I want you to be better than me. I want you to look at my mistakes and capitalize off of what I went through, so you can live a better life than me. Don’t get me wrong, my life is great, but I want yours to be even greater.

You deserve the best. Never hold back or be afraid of change, and always voice your opinion.

Never bite your tongue. You have to be in control. Don’t give nobody control over you.

On that note, son, I’ll close this out by saying this: Son, I love you and you saved my life.

Maurio “JR” Laye I am from working hard to make a way, From pork-and-beans and buttermilk.

I am from the blue house on Clyde and the big white house on 5th Ave., Cigarette smoke, Budweiser, and Frankie Beverly & Maze being played loudly.

I am from hustle to win, Where there wasn’t many jobs so you had to trap to make ends meet.

I’m from barbecues and basketball tournaments, From Big Rio and Mechelle.

I’m from the family of tough love and the family of unconditional love, From the family that moved from Kentucky and the other side that came from Mississippi.

I’m from the Christian family that prays together and looks out for one another.

I’m from Chicago Heights, IL. Neck bones, cornbread, and black-eyed peas.

From the home of athletes and scholars, The home of my father, a Division II college football national champion.

Grandma’s house, where all the achievements and family pictures are located, Important for the generations to come to know where we come from.

Until the lion learns to write his own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright © 2019 ConTextos