Take My Hand and Follow My Journey

“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 expanded into Chicago to create positive opportunities that nourish the minds, ideas and words of the underserved and underestimated.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:

Chicago CRED

Take My Hand and Follow My Journey Anthony Stokes

Can I ask you‌ do you know how it feels to see your fucking homie posed for a picture but he dead?

Do you know how it feels to hold and look at a person and see the hurt they feeling?

Can you look at a person in the eye and feel the pain they going through?

Have you ever had someone’s picture on your shirt with RIP knowing they not coming back and you can’t do nothing about it?

I rem embe r…W and I hen I lil bit was w of bla all bl alkin ack, c k . Eve Whit g in N with r y e Sox one l gold ookin avy Pier snap zippe They Is g like back rs. Ti treat : why ee white jerse ms o ed m y and peop he he n. I f e like e s r l o e t m ? I ha le some like I e b l ac one I d wasn wasn ’t in t k biker je on ’t. he ri ght p ans lace.

I got on the bus, tapping my bus card, walked to the back door. I hold the on the pole so I won’t bump into people. I’m hearing the bell for every stop, looking in the back of the bus, seing people laughing and on their phones. I’m playing my speakers, listening to A Love Song for the Street by Lil Durk. I feel better on the bus.

I’m a traveling person. I feel more comfortable going places.

I get back to my neighborhood. Walking around I look over my shoulder. I’m devastated. It’s tragic. Everybody smoking. Just seeing busses pass by, seeing who’s on them, if it’s the right people or the wrong people.

How every building is the same. Some kids are scared to come outside to play in the park. There’s only one store in the hood. Up Top. It’s a restaurant and a regular store. You can buy blunts, beer, liquor, shirts, t-shirts and all.

Just by looking, I can tell that everybody having a good time. But it’s not right. I feel like if it was less guns and people could connect more, things would be better. We wouldn’t have to be looking at that wall. That wall with all those names of the people who died.

I always think will I be next? There’s one brick on the wall that’s blank. They always tell me that I’ll be next. It’s heartbreaking.

I still think about my friend’s face, knowing that he’s gone. I wake up early in morning to go smoke the gelato and think I see his face I hear shooting, knowing people is afraid to come outside.

So I think, why all this bullshit?

But there’s also love in my life. It’s not all bad...

I been to think about her and when we started talking. She’s my queen. When I sleep, I wake thinking she’s next to me. When she holds, my hand, it gets warm. She’s always on my mind. She is everything to me, I get chills bums. She’s the piece of the puzzle, a huge piece of my heart. With her, I smile. I will do everything I can so we can make it in the world together.

Before I met her, I didn’t know what it was like to able to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason. I wish I could explain her eyes. The sound of her voice gives me butterflies, she makes my heart skip a beat. With her, I feel so complete. I’m not perfect.

I’ll annoy her and piss her off, say stupid things and take it all back. But put it all aside and you never find a person who care or love more than me.

I know I’m a handful but that’s why you got two hands.

You love my locks even though they make some people afraid. My locks are a sign of black is beautiful. It gets me mad, having to be one way or the other. People judge me like a book but what about the saying never judge a book by its cover?

That’s me. Two sides. But just one me.

I am Anthony Stokes I am from the Wild 100s.

From wisdom and respect.

I am from laughter and happiness.

Joyful, smiling and getting litty.

I am from dead trees and clear blue skies, Broken stems and warm hearted.

I’m from hugs and bonding time.

From Dee-Dee and Tony.

I’m from the quiet and loyalty.

From “Be better than me,” and “A hard head makes a soft ass.”

I’m from green, yellow, red and a lot of gelato.

I’m from the 100s and 44 east, Pizza and chicken.

From the love of three sisters and one brother.