A Few Moments

A

Few

Mome

By Mr. R Starks

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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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A Few Moments Ricky Starks

On a sunny summer day in Chicago, 1995, I was out playing with this egghead boy named Pierre. He stayed up the street. I use to go out everyday and meet up with him in the field right off the corner. This field was so big you could play football, baseball and even have BBQs. It was a play zone for kids.

We normally played Killer Man after the older people finished their softball games. I tried to play a few times but never got to bat because I was so small.

I remember I use to get so mad that they wouldn’t give me a turn to swing. I use to hate it. Shiiid, Pierre did too, because he was smaller than me. So after awhile, we said forget them. We can do our own thang.

I used to love going down to Pierre’s house; his mom was so fine. I knew I was a little kid with no type of experience but I would have loved it if my dream came true. I couldn’t help it: I was a young boy that hadn’t even had a real girlfriend yet, but my imagination was wild. He also had this funny looking dog.

It was little and black with shady hair but fun to play with. I see why Pierre had this dog, because they both were small and funny. Pierre came to be one of my best friends after a while., But let me start from the beginning so you guys and girls could know how this came about and a little more about me.

1985, when I was born:, I don’t remember much about that so I’ll just move on past. So, let’s say In 89, as my grandmother told me, I came sliding across the floor of her apartment. Books everywhere and wet:, water everywhere, and my pull- ups full of shit. “Oh my God, what in the world!” my grandmother said with a loud tone of surprise. Her name was Gretel Dorris at the time., Yyou know, like Hansel & Gretel?

Yeah, that.

At the time, she was the one dealing with all my mess. She was short, kinda chunky with brown hair, almost golden. She wore these big circle glasses almost too big for her face, I thought. I don’t know if she was more upset that her apartment was a mess or the fact that I had a pamper full of shit! Her boyfriend was still laid in the bed, sleep! Either way, I had a feeling I was in trouble and from the noise in the other room I wasn’t the only one.

As time went on, this was a long ride, but I was excited. I’ve never seen so many people.

“Next stop, Chicago!” As the man said over the mic. “I’m going to take you to meet someone, Rick. You will be living with him for now,” Gretel told me as I looked around, really unaware of what was going on. “Boy, pay attention,” she said in a shaky tone. It seemed as if she really didn’t want to take me or leave me there. Well, when we arrived, the man I saw was tall with a ball of hair on the top of his head., Well, that’s what I called it until I later realized it was called an afro. He was a little lighter than Gretel and his eyes were narrow.

He looked like he wasn’t pleased to see her, or me, for that matter. “RiIck, this is W.C., your granddad! You will be staying with him for a while. Don’t worry.

I’m not far and I’ll be back for you,” she said in a whisper. Then all I heard was a loud and deep voice saying, “Got damnit, Cretel. Give me the boy and go on now!” I was confused on who he was talking to because he said “Cretel”, but I was to find out that’s what he called her. She handed me over, as she cursed him out and told him, “You better take good care of him W.C., or you’ll wish you were dead!” He didn’t say a word. We just turned and left.

When we arrived to what would be my new home, my mother was sitting on the porch as if she had been waiting forever. Her leg was shaking and she was biting her fingernails like she hadn’t eaten in days. When I saw her, I saw a smile so big it made me smile. She was tall and slender with this long silky-like hair. Her eyes were a green I’ve never seen before. Her skin was so light it made me wonder. “why am I so dark? Could this lady really be my mother?” But indeed she was. I got that memo when I heard W.C. say, “Dorothy, come get yo damn son and take him in the house.

I’m going to get something for him to eat!” When W.C. returned finally,

“I bet you like coffee?” “Well, yes, coffee.” I don’t know what they were thinking at the time to give a 4 year old coffee. But to me it was sweet, so that’s all that mattered at the time! The next morning my mother left, leaving me with a kiss on the nose, saying, “I’ll be back, bay.” I could still smell the sweet smell of pancake syrup on her breath. That was the last time I would see her happy.

Three months later, she appeared on the front porch, hair matted like sticker bugs were stuck in her head. Her clothes didn’t match as usual, and she smelled like an alley full of trash and everything old. My mother, who was so beautiful at one point looked like an actress of in from one of those 79 movies! I was in awe, til my daze was abruptly interrupted

by W.C.’s loud voice filled with anger and slurred words from the plastic bottle he kept on the side of the recliner. I would see him days and nights taking swigs out that plastic bottle that seemed to never empty!

So, my mom stood there with tear-filled eyes, with her lipstick smeared on her face like she tried to wipe it off before she came. She shot back after a few tears fell and her nose ran like a faucet with a leak: “You don’t want me here?” I stood and watched them beat each other with their words as if they were playing ping-pong.

with no like a grumpy old man my up d lle ba ce fa .’s .C ped. W to get off Then suddenly it stop broke and he said, “You got 5 seconds e away, my mother teeth. Then the silenc in the kitchen. When he turned to walk came ent ross the street! W.C. n, ac go ly on property.” And he w to sh da in a 100 yard d in the kitche shot, off like she was emed like the biggest knife he could fin yo ass back t se to the door with wha him like a Mad Man yelling, “Don’t bring k about of feated. All I could thin up and de waving it out in front g in ok lo , ay aw d d walke ck me ied. All he did was pi here.” She turned an cr d an ed am re sc I So d once again for was what about me? d set me in front of the TV as he reache an took me in the house that plastic bottle!!

Pierre was about 3’11 or 4’5 and about 90 Lbs. He wore baggy jeans, long shirts and magnet earrings bigger than his ears. That’s probably why he kept losing them. But he was still cool. We use to be the only kids in class with silver chains, rings, and big earrings that later we found out were cubic zirconia. Today, I shake my head on how crazy we must have looked. But, hey, the girls and teachers didn’t complain, and we didn’t either. I was a skinny kid at this time, with this curly hair that stayed covered with ball caps. Some classmates use to always take my hat and run, knowing I didn’t like it. I use to chase them around the class and get so mad I would want to fight. I would take their books, paper, break their pencils:, anything that would make them feel like me. At the time, I really didn’t care because my hats meant so much to me.

“Stop it!! Stop it!!” the teacher said out loud at me and a group of kids playing and joking. But for some reason, she was giving me this look as if I was the only kid in the room. I felt her eyes burning a hole through me; I just knew I was in trouble. My problem was that I was the only one taking that trip to the hallway. “But Ms.Curry? Why you always pulling me out?”

My teacher, Ms. Curry, reminded me of my mother; she was tall, slender, with long sandy brown hair and light brown eyes.

She was definitely breathtaking, (shamefully said), and one of my big crushes. “Hey you have way more potential then you are showing!” Mrs. Curry said to me in a stern voice. “Oh my God, you are so freaking fine.

Give me a kiss so the class can see you actually like me!” The thoughts in my head were going crazy but were soon interrupted with a slap upside the head. “What are you thinking about, RIcky?” The slap to the head broke my day dream. SMH! I couldn't say nothing but look crazy ‘cause it was like she could hear my thoughts. I would surely be ashamed but surely hoped I wasn’t thinking out loud. I know damn well I would be in trouble then!

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. “I just don’t like people touching my stuff.” “Well, tell me,” she said, “Don’t take it upon yourself to be the Judge of what happens. Your grandmother will know about this, and I don’t want to hear another word!” “But Mrs. Curry?” “But nothing. Do you want to meet me in the office?” she asked after I tried one last time to convince her it wasn’t my fault. Unfortunately, it didn’t get me nowhere.

Walking back in the class, my palms were sweaty. As I scanned the room I saw my friend with that egg- head rocking back and forth in laughter.

Oh, I was even more mad. “Why did he out of all people have to see it?� I asked myself, knowing I will hear this the whole walk home.

Riiinng!!! Running up and down the hal l, smacking booties and hitting, School was finally out. As I flew past the doo r of standing there with her arms folded, as my class, I could see Mrs. Curry if she was a disappointed mother who has seen her child’s fucked up report card. As if I had brakes on my shoes, I came to a complete stop and started walking as if I had never been running or as if I never saw her see me runnin g and playing the nasty game of booty grab. I kept my head down and kept it moving. I knew she was trying to get my attention but I wouldn't dare look ove r. “No she grabbed the one kid by his shirt and t this time, Mrs. Curry,” I thought as started waving her finger in his face.

“This is my chance,” I thought again to myself. Soon, I got to the stairwell. I slid down the rail for an extra boost to get away. I stood outside waiting on Pierre to come out. Then, running through the door, almost falling, he came busting out the door with his bookbag bouncing up and down on his back. “They’re coming!!” was all I heard him say as he ran right past me. Before I saw the door swing open behind him, I could hear the security was yelling something, but I was too focused trying to catch up with Pierre to make out the words. When I finally did catch up, he stopped at the corner. I thought, he was waiting on me, but instead it was to stick up his middle finger at the guard giving us a chase. And then I could hear him yell, “I’ll see you Monday, you little shits!!”

We laughed so hard all th teasing the old lady’s do e way home, from kicking over garbage cans to gs were a piece of work. I ha down the streets. As I look back, I can say we d a problem with dogs ev er since I was younger

next to him. I had been One Saturday morning, W.C. laid in his bed with me any other kid, I got into trying to wake him up most of the morning. So, just like a handful.Then I put a bed shit. I saw the vaseline sitting on the table and I grab . He was nice and shiny, little on his eyes and a lot on his cheeks and forehead m! Boom! Boom! I Boo I thought, but to my surprise he still didn’t wake up.

So I climbed out of the heard at the front. Boom! Boom! Boom! ! And again. bed set was so high. I bed, feet barely connecting to the floor because the gling to reach the top. went to the door and unlocked the bottom lock, strug The door swung open and knocked me backwards.

as W.C., she looked down at me As I sat there looking up at this lady with the same hair know how to unlock the door?” you and said, “Oh I’m sorry, baby. What you doing? How lips. Her round eyes looked at me bow and face d She had a mocha complexion with a roun up and we headed through the house and made me at ease. She reached down to pick me he ain’t leave you in here by yourself.,” as she kept calling, “W.C.!, W.C.!, I know damn well called W.C. again and still nothing.

She finally walked in the bedroom where I just left. She me tight, rocking and crying “I’m ed I could feel her mood change. “Oh my God,” she hugg sorry. I'm so sorry!”

. She got I know what it meant d di r no r fo at th ght, ng e was sayi Greta! But then I thou it: d ar he I I didn’t know what sh en Th . rs r: Greta. aled some numbe lled my grandmothe ca e sh on the phone and di t ha w ’s at th n, once agai ll from the “Who is Greta?” But e.” As the tears still fe m co to ed ne u and placed Yo . lem ening?” She hung up pp ha “Hey, we have a prob t’s ha “W r, de ere to won woman’s face, I sat th her end of the phone. ot e th on ne eo m so hear another call. I could

“Hello?”

“Hello, yes. I need a paramedic!”

“What seems to be the problem, Ma’m?”

“My brother-in- law has passed.,” “We’re sending someone. What’s the address, Ma’m?”

“6820 S. Paulia!”

“Ok. One is in route, ok!”

“Thank you.” (Click)

As the phone hung up, I walked over to ask, “Are you ok?” “Yes, baby. I’m fine. I know you don’t know what’s happening right now, but you’re going to be fine. She told me this as if she was leaving, almost in the same tone my grandmother had when she brought me with her to live with W.C. (“Don’t worry. I’m not far. I'll be back for you!") As the medics pulled up, the sirens was loud as I looked out the window at the flashing lights. The men jumped out the truck, running in the house. I could see people pouring from the homes coming to see what had happened.

As the med techs carried W.C. out with a white sheet covering him, the people were looking in shock and holding their hands up to their mouths, looking. I was in shock. Me and the lady that came in and had all this done was right behind the techs rolling him out. All I thought was W.C. was going for a ride in the Red and White truck.

The house seemed like a different place. We were in the lower level of the house on the first floor. When we walked in, something with four legs came right at us: mouth open, tongue out and something in the back of it was moving fast. “Bullet get, go sit down!” she yelled at this thing I would find to be a dog. She said, “Get. Go sit down.” Bullet ran back to where he was and laid down. I held on to her neck as she tried to put me down. She laughed and said, “It’s ok.” I didn’t believe her, but I had no choice. Bullet never bothered me but he would look at me look at him. When I moved, I could see Bullet shift his body in every direction I went. Moving that thing in the back of him. Bullet was the family dog and I guess by me being the only child in the house he felt the need to protect me. Even though that was so, I was still afraid.

One day, I was going out back to take the trash out. I thought the coast was clear.

Then all I heard was nails scratching the concrete, like something desperate and eager to get too or away. I froze. My heart jumped out my chest and I felt hot inside. I turned around and Bullet was standing in front of me with his mouth open and his long wet tongue hanging out waiting on me to make a move. I was so scared I instantly had to shit! I don’t know if Bullet knew I was afraid, but he seemed to study me as long as I stood there. He stood there as if he wanted me to make a move. Kinda like he dared me! So I said to myself, all I had to do was get up these stairs, which seemed like so far away even though they were only 3 feet away. Bullet had me more nervous than a kid that couldn’t swim walking on the ledge of a 12 feet pool of water. I had to make a move and I had to do it fast.

I was considered quick on my toes but Bullet was a little quicker ,I thou ght. So I sucked up all the courage made my move---, Nah, that's wha I had and t I wanted to do. I end up standing there for about 10 more seconds to the top of my lungs, “Aunt Lau and I screamed raaa!!!” When I did that, I saw Bull et’s whole body jump and at that actually shitted myself. I stood ther time I think I e and started to cry, then finally afte r what seemed like an hour, I hea “Get!!” and Bullet turned around rd her say, and ran in the house.

Aunt Laura came out and saw me still standing by the garbage can and smiled saying, “Poor baby, I’m sorry. Come on, he just wanted to play. Rick, if he wanted to do something he would have eaten you by now.” Hearing that made me cry more, along with the knowledge of me shitting myself.

As we walked in, Bullet was sitting on his mat by the door, looking at me as usual. I swear I understood dog language. I know I heard him say, “Next time” and put his head down, but his eyes still on me. That dog creeped me out. “Rick, go in the bathroom. I ran water for a bath. You stink. And leave them shoes by the door, It smell like you stepped in some shit back there.” I said, “Only if you knew,” to myself, and “Ok!” out loud.

“I’m gonna get that fucking dog. I swear I am!”

As I stepped out of my thes, peeling each layer off on time, the scent of my acclo e piece at a cid ent got stronger. There was no let my aunt find out I actually way I could So, when I got to the black anshit myself. I probably would be in trouble. was even more mad. “Mannn d yellow Nike boxer shorts I had just got, I to myself., Then I thought- “Hnnnn! These were my favorite ones,” I said ow can I get rid of them witho finding out?” I thought of hiding ut my aunt Then I said, “Nah, she’s alway them in the lower cabinet under the sink., the window and throwing the s going in there.” Then I thought of opening them and knows they’re minem out the window, but what if someone sees ?

I would sure e embarrassed the talk on mlyy b then., I p bably b would be my accident, an lock., Uugh, a girl might ro h e a d r G th o e d news of fo rbid it’s a girl I lik with a great ide e a d . .

S O o r so I came up I thought, until I dumbest idea I re c a o liz u e ld d h th a is was the ve lit up in my head ever came up w it lik h . e L ik th e o se a light bulb an idea and the c oons when th bulb pops upart e c h a ra cter gets on top of their h ead. The toile t!

I looked over and without thinking I put them in and pulled the handle., Guuussshhhh!!!

“Shit,” I thought as I stood there and watched the water overflow. I couldn’t believe how stupid I could have been to think this would work. I grabbed towel after towel and this was after I’ve used most of the toilet tissue on the floor. (Knock Knock. “Hey Rick, are you alright in there?” My Aunt said before she walked in. Once again, everything was in slow motion., My heart dropped when I heard her voice. The doorknob turned and I seen the toe of her shoe, then her head. I was on the floor trying my best to clean the mess I had made. “Oh my God, what in the world did you do in here?” There was no way I was going to tell her I made a mess of myself and tried to flush my underwear down the toilet!

. The ilet tissue on the floor to d an s el w to et W . with a stern said I was in trouble wn!!!” she demanded do sit d The look on her face an w no b her tu s. “Get in that water up. I could see e th l al n ea cl r bathroom was a mes he at e pulled my , I jumped in looking the same time as sh at th voice. With no words ou m d an se no her hea grabbed her me. She just shook at ed ok lo d nose wrinkle and she an nd mained quiet toilet. She turned arou hat happened, but re w ew underwear from the kn e sh if as , g.” thy on her face m going to get that do with a look of sympa “I’ , as w t ou ab k in th l I could sat still in the tub. Al

It took a day or two before my grandmother showed up. I guess she had her reasons why., I know it was a lot to deal with, especially with me and the toll it had on me mentally. But, for me it really didn’t bother me because I didn’t know how to express myself in the matters of sorrow. I can remember the day of the funeral.e It was in a church and the ground was filled with snow. It was particularly cold this year, unlike the others. There wasn’t many people that showed up, but enough to fill half of the small church we were in. Most of the people I’d never seen before. My grandmother, Aunt Laura, and my mother showed up after so long. My grandmother was an emotional wreck. I didn’t understand why after the last event that happened between the two., I figured they hated each other. Heading back home after the funeral, I can remember my grandmother holding me and keeping me close. My grandmother’s boyfriend would soon in be my new grandfather. Everywhere he went, I went. I was his new lil man., His partner crime.

ad t. I

Granddaddy Charles is what I called him. This man would teach me most of the things I know today as a man, like stand on my own two feet, don’t be a yes man, and love the woman who loves you. After a few more years, I would fully understand how it feels to lose something and someone important.

Ricky Starks I am from Chicago, Windy City, Chi-Raq Home of the Bulls, White Sox, South Side, and Miles Davis Inside Englewood Where money ain’t good if it ain’t on the Wood This is where you are guilty until you are proven innocent Where babies dying and mothers cryin’ And no one stands up for any lives.

A humbling experience is where I’m from And you can learn about that with a fist or gun.

No matter the outcome, This life will make you run.

I call it the slum.

I am Gutta, One who rises above any outcome And pass the peas means you were Grateful.

And a short prayer when you make it back home Means you are Thankful.

This is my experience, I come from many.

Dorothy Starks is who I’m from, Striving hard is how I won.

So, I am from many, Pick one!!

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