Through It All Still I Stand by Montay Dobbins

Montay Dobbins

Through It All Still I Stand

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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Through It All Still I Stand Montay Dobbins

Surprise!

Welcome home. Aww, look at you. You done picked up some weight, you look healthy. We missed you so much. Bang! Bang! Wake up on that uniform exchange, put yo uniform in the chuck. Coming through one time and one time only.

a brown DOC uniform. a million years I thought I’d be in in er nev t shi this ieve bel ’t can I Damn!

I was born and raised on the west side of Chicago. I was born July 5, 1992 at the Cook County Hospital. I grew up ina single family household. It was me, my mama Bobbie, and my big sister Quita. Growing up, I didn’t have all the finer things in life, but my mama made sure me and my sister had clothes on our backs, shoes on our feet, food on the table, and a roof over our heads.

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I was about 8 years old. She worked for UPS downtown in Chicago, IL. I remember waking up early in the morning around 3, or 4 am getting dress with my mama. She would put on her brown UPS uniform, and I would wear a T-shirt, some jeans, and a pair of gym shoes. After getting dressed, we were off to the green line to catch the train to her job. I used to love going to work with my mama.

All her bosses and co-workers loved me. When me and my mama use to walk through the door, they would be all smiles, saying to my mama,”You brought the little helper today.” She taught me how to scan packages, and how to complete work orders. I would help her unload packages off the truck, after that she would get her route, then we would leave out. Before we started working, she would always ask me what did I want to eat since we didn’t eat nothing before we left the house.

McDonalds was always my answer.

She would order me pancakes, eggs, sausages with a small orange juices, and she would order herself a sausage, cheese, and egg sandwich with a small coffee. After getting our food we were off to work. Downtown was always live in the morning, people rushing to work, horns blowing like crazy, and trains steady riding past. There was a lot going on, but I loved every minute of it.

Every building we delivered to knew who I was, they used to call me the UPS little helper. After we got done with the first load of work, we would go back to the hub, and eat our food, then load up again. I knew they love my OG because she was the only employee who could bring her child to work.

My mom might not have knew it, but she inspired me. I look up to her, she was and still is my everything. I learned most of everything I know from women: my mama, my grandma Betty, and my big sister Quita. I learned how to to be strong from my grandma because she is one of the strongest women I know, and I got my swag and my dressing from the sister. She kept me up on all the latest fashion, and I learned how to work hard, and never give up from my OG.

I hated to see my mama struggle, so I told myself when I grow up, Ima be the one who move us out the hood. Once I became a teenager, I started trying to come up with different ways to make some money. In the summer, I’d get a summer job. In the winter, I’d ask people if I can shovel the front porch, or they drive thru.

I went to Roberto Clemente High School. I remember getting off the division bus on Western.

Walking into the school going through the metal detectors then taking the escalator to the 5th floor to 1st period. Everyday all day up and down the escalator the cobras which is a latin gang would throw up their set, and hiss like a snake.

Everyday, or every other day I was getting into it, or fighting. I couldn’t even play on the basketball team because I didn’t want to get caught at the bus stop lacking in they hood. I couldn’t even learn because I was worried about my safety, so my mama packed us up, and moved to Oak Park.

Oak Park River Forest High School was our last option because none of the other schools we tried to get me into would accept me because all they saw was fighting in my background from Clemente. OPRF didn’t want to accept me, but they had no choice I was in their school district.

The environment was different, the school was bigger than the last, the students didn’t run the halls everyday all day, and the students actually carried books, and bookbags to class. I didn’t like the school because most of the teachers and students were racist. I would always show up late to all my classes.

I would ditch school, go trap and smoke weed, then I would come home around the time school let out like that’s where I been all day. I ended up getting kicked out of OPRF and attended Harbor.

Harbor was small, everything was on one floor: the bathroom, lunchroom, and all four, or five classrooms. Harbor was connected to OPRF. It was a school where you got yo act right, catch up on all the credits you needed, and discipline. The teachers were helpful and did everything to get us back on track.

I was there for my junior and senior year. I was doing my work on time for all my classes. I wasn’t ditching, and I was an honor roll student 2 years straight. June 12, 2010 was the day I graduated from OPRF. It started off a rainy morning, then the sun came out, and dried everything up. I had on my all black suit, white dress up shirt with my red tie, and black shoes.

Our graduation was outside on our big football field. Everything was set up nice, and a lot of families were in the stands to support us. It felt good walking across the stage getting my diploma, that was one of the best days of my life. Thanks to Mr.B, and Mrs. Tate, they were my favorite teachers at Harbors.

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My daughter Ma’kyla was born August 11, 2011. I remember being nervous at the hospital waiting for her to come into this cold world. When she came out of her mother's womb it was an amazing sight to see for me. That's the day that kinda changed my life; she brought so much joy to me.

I knew I had to man up, and do what I had to do to be a good father. Pampers, and milk wasn’t cheap, so I had to make some money by any means.

My first job was at Grossinger Toyota Dealership. I was a sales porter. I used to wake up everyday at 6 am, shower, brush my teeth, put my work uniform on, pack my lunch, and was out the door. It took me three busses to get to work. I had to be there at 9 am. I washed cars, greeted customers, and did dealer trades. I was doing my thang, staying outta trouble, and taking care of my responsibilities, but $8.75 wasn’t enough to take care of my daughter, help my mama pay rent, bills, and keep myself up, so I started back hustling, but this time I had a job to back me up.

Everything was good. I was checking paper. I was able to do more for my daughter, buy her nice things, take her out to have fun, and I was hitting OG hand. Momma wasn’t no fool, she knew I was hustling and she ain’t like it. She would always tell me,”You need to leave them streets alone. Only two things come with that, death or jail,” but she still prayed for me everyday and my granny, and sister did too.

My pops Toby helped me get my first car, well he actually brought the car and I paid for the plates, city sticker, and the title switch. It was a 2002 Buick Century, smoke grey. I had almost everything: car, money in pocket, good family, women, and I stayed fresher than a model straight outta the GQ magazine. All that was missing was my own crib. I was working my way to it. I just had a lot going on court fees, fines, and a shit load of tickets. Niggas was hating because I was doing good for myself. I was my own man, had a mind of my own, and I didn’t take shit from nobody.

The streets were crazy, wasn’t no love, respect, or loyalty. It was just a bunch of backdoor shit going on. Brothers killing brothers, and homies killing homies. I knew I couldn’t trust niggas after D-Scott got killed. He was a good friend of mine. He was cool, laid back, and humble. All he wanted to do was make some money and niggaz took his life that was an eye opener for me. I knew right then and there I had to move around.

I had to learn the streets, and how to read niggas by being in them, so that’s how I stayed alive.

Ima good nigga, funny, loving, caring, and I try my best to make people around me happy. I don’t do too much. I worry about my family, money, and music . Everything else is nothing. Life is a trip though because I’m sitting ina cell writing this story about a few things about me, and my life…

Smh… Crazy right. A lot of people can’t believe I’m in jail. Shit, me neither. I’m the coolest nigga you will ever meet. 100!!

I done seen a lot and been through a lot. Still I tried to do everything in my power to stay away from the system. Now I’m locked up fighting for my freedom, hoping and praying GOD see me through. Everything I love is out in the world alone because I’m locked up. I feel helpless like I failed them because I supposed to protect, provide, and keep them safe at all times, but I can’t because I’m in here, and they out there. All I can do is pray, and ask God to watch over them, and protect them from the evil, and wicked people.

My Daughter is my everything, I’ll do anything for her. She's the reason I work so hard, why I changed my ways, and why I look at life from a different angle. I’m proud to say Ima great father, I love my daughter, and she loves me too. This is my first time ever doing time behind bars, and on some serious shit, it hurts like hell. I can’t do nothing, but deal with my situation the best way I can, and let God handle the rest. A lot of people were talking good talk when I got locked up. Saying they gon do this and that, In the end, all it was, was good talk.

Motherfuckas left me hanging like clothes on the line to dry. Some told me they were gone be locked in with me forever, no matter what, and some just left without saying a word. I was a little fucked up over it at first, but as time went on, I got over it. I can be mad at them, but then again I can’t cause life goes on.

Now that I’m locked up I can feel the inmates' pain. When I was on the other side, I really couldn’t feel their pain, but you have to be locked up, or been locked up before to know the feeling. This jail shit ain’t for me. It ain’t the niggas I’m worried about; it’s the way they treat us, talk to us, and the way they look down on us. They say you cry the first day, or the first couple of weeks, when you come to jail. I didn’t.

It took me a couple of months really when I got pictures of my family, that broke me down. It’s kinda hard to live for the future because you never know how quick yo life could change. Now I live by the second, minute, hour, and the moment. When you behind these walls, it’s not always a guarantee you gone make it out. Some people hang themselves, you could get killed, or them people could give you football numbers for the rest of your life.

I’m trying to get back to my regular life: working everyday, taking care of my daughter, and enjoying the rest of my life. I got people who depend on me on the other side. These people trying to make me look like a bad person. They trying to send another black man away for the rest of his life. Everybody who knows me knows I’m a good dude with a good heart.

I’m no troublemaker, I don’t pick with people some situations just come towards me. No matter what, I won’t let these people break me. They can think what they want; they gone do that anyway. As long as I know what kind of person I am, other people's opinions don't matter. Only God the master, the father, and the creator can judge me.

I know my time coming soon. I just gotta get through this situation. Long as my family good, I’m good. I can deal with the problems on the inside; it’s the problems on the outside I can’t. At the end of the day, I’m a strong standup black man. I know these people are going to do everything in their power to take me down, and I’m gone do everything in my power to not let that happen. I know it’s not going to be an easy fight, but I’m willing to fight til I can’t fight no more.

I wanna thank God for giving me the strength at the lowest point of my life. I wanna thank my family and real friends for being by my side through tough times. I love y’all with all my heart. To everybody who took the time to read my story, thank you all and God bless……..Only The Strong Survive!!!! You don’t know how strong you are til your back is against the wall. Life can either tear you down or build up your character but only you can determine your outcome by making the most of your journey.

I Am From Poem Montay Dobbins I am from Section 8 and paper plates From Single mothers and Dead brothers I am from the West side of Chicago Weed spots,Vacant lots, and Dope blocks I am from strong black women Loving, wise, and independent I’m from acting out movies and party music From Dobbins and Polks I’m from the home of hustlers and blood suckers From be a leader and not a follower I’m from Union Hill Baptist Church, Can I get a Amen I’m from the windy city where it get busy Beans, greens and neck bones, ribs, hot links and devil eggs From get right or get left I am from push hard, never quit, stay 10 toes and never fold From the survive, strive to stay alive, only the real can look me in my eyes

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