Back of the Yards ... A Prologue

The Back of the Yards Comic! A Quick Prologue

By Jimmy Briseno

A QUICK PROJECT PROLOGUE

See that guy on the left? I guess that’s me, Jimmy, some time just before this project started, as illustrated by participating artist John Golden. Looks like I may be deep in thought. About what, you ask? Who the hell knows.

I could be contemplating just how incredible it is that each one of the individuals on this bus, all with our own unique ancestral journeys through the ages, somehow find ourselves sharing this brief and fleeting moment in time with one another, against all conceivable odds…

Or alternatively, I could be wondering why my adopted hometown basketball team, the Chicago Bulls, don’t run more motion offense to free up their perimeter shooters and give Derrick Rose more space to drive towards the basket (circa 2012).

Both thoughts every bit as likely to be occupying space in my mind at any given moment, to be sure.

And that’s me in a nutshell. My mind is a complete mess. And unfortunately, I spend a lot of time there.

Sparks from a Bus

Back then, taking those bus rides home in Chicago, I was consumed by my job as a corporate attorney. And not because I loved my job. Rather, it was because my company at the time had been involved in a series of corporate acquisitions and divestitures for a stretch of years. As a result, I think I was just desperately looking for some sort of work-life balance in general, which resulted in even more daydreaming than usual.

And of course, during that time and beyond, Chicago’s crime rate, corruption and budget woes would often be the subject of national headlines. There was just a lot of negative energy in the air. I guess that also occupied some space in my mind periodically on those many bus rides home.

Even as I would think about it back then, I didn’t view these problems as necessarily unique to Chicago. These are shared problems among many of our increasingly complicated urban centers. They are issues that went beyond nice and easy political soundbites, and issues that couldn’t be addressed by any one particular solution or dogma. And I guess in that context, I would often wonder what someone like me, a guy with absolutely no particularly noteworthy skill whatsoever, could even do to help?

The Power of Creativity

It was this line of introspection that would often lead me to think more and more about my rather ordinary life. Although I may not have been exactly passionate about my work at the time, nor have accomplished anything of particular note, I was nonetheless self-aware enough to know that I was damn lucky. Particularly when I would look back and think about my own childhood.

Purely as a statistic, my odds for any kind of success out of the gate probably weren’t great. My dad was an absent and volatile figure who would end up ultimately losing his soul to drugs and mental illness. And as a kid, I grew up in a neighborhood fairly similar to some of the neighborhoods that generated many of the headlines in Chicago.

But that’s where my journey along any statistical probability path abruptly ends because the lucky part for me is that I had a loving mom, grandparents and godparents who were determined to help make my life a little easier than perhaps their own. Thus, eventually, I would find myself experiencing an entirely different set of life circumstances. Nonetheless, it’s also in that context that I could remember what it felt like as a young kid to be shaped in large part by the external expectations of my old neighborhood and early circumstance, particularly when those external

expectations were largely negative.

And, conversely, I also knew what it meant for me personally when I became exposed to others that helped me think a bit more creatively later in my adolescent life. They helped to expand my own internal set of expectations.

I saw firsthand how being exposed to others’ ideas and creative thoughts can be incredibly empowering. It’s those little external sparks that allow you to begin to envision a world that transcends your own reality, whatever that reality may be; and that’s when new possibilities can truly begin to emerge from within.

And that’s when it would eventually hit me on one of those many bus rides home. Why not try to develop some sort of youth outreach initiative that could help to facilitate those little creative sparks, however modest? I’d always felt that creativity was very much undervalued. Even in the corporate world that I was immersed (trapped) in, where being able to think a little outside of the box could quite literally lead to big dividends. And I was even more convinced that creativity was essential in fields like public service and science.

And the irony of all of this, of course, is that programs promoting creativity within our urban centers always seem to be the first in line when it came to budget cuts. So, as I would continue to think about it over those many bus rides home, there just had to be an opportunity to do something.

Perhaps more than anything, beyond youth empowerment, budget cuts and Chicago’s headlines, I thought doing something that facilitated creativity could be fun. Maybe I could light a few much-needed creative sparks of my own. And as my mind would wander on those many bus rides home, whether contemplating the serendipity of life or the starting lineup for the Chicago Bulls, it became more and more apparent that I just needed a little more fun in my life.

Armed with this motivation on one of those many bus rides home in the winter of 2012, I finally decided I was going to give it a go. I didn’t have a specific plan in mind other than to recruit some local artists to collaborate with urban youth the following summer. I figured we could just see what came out of that collaborative process, and then take it from there.

Little did I know, as I walked off the bus that fateful winter’s evening with this very basic premise in mind, the origin story for this little comic-based collaborative project had just begun.

****

5 months later …

One Day in a Classroom After School in the West -Side of Chicago

The room looks like any other ordinary high school classroom with a high table counter extending in front for the teacher to use for various presentations, and corresponding rows of single desks lined up parallel with one another from the front of the room to the back for youth to sit. I stand in front of the classroom.

With me are a small group of initial participating youth who had been given a prior description of the project. I can feel their scrutiny as I bring my initial presentation to a close.

“So, that’s the idea in a nutshell. Basically, we’re going to develop comics stories based on your ideas. And you’ll be able to participate in the development of those comic stories from beginning to end, so long as you’d like to participate in the project.”

The youth remain silent. I try to further gauge some reaction. Surely, they see right through me. I mean, I’m no teacher. Hell, I’m barely a lawyer, apart from the degree I somehow fleeced from my law school. So, what am I doing here at this after-school program on the West Side of Chicago, working with these kids to develop comic stories based on their interests and ideas? I’m not even an artist! They must know that I have no idea what I’m doing. Surely, they do.

It is then that one of the youth, a stout male named Nehemiah finally raises his hand.

“So, like, these stories can be about anything we want them to be? I mean, can we just make stuff up or do they have to be true stories?

“They can be about whatever you want them to be about –made up or based on real experiences. It’s entirely up to you.”

Another youth, a young African American female named Tamia then raises her hand.

“Can they be about relationships?”

“Yep, relationships. Friendships. School. Family. Or they can be completely made up and based on some sort of alternative reality. Anything you want.”

I look around to see if the other youth seem engaged. I recall a prior conversation with one of the participating project artists who was also a former teacher, and he advised me that no matter what, fight against silence. Even if you have to repeat yourself. Fight silence in the room. Any interaction is better than no interaction.

“So … like I said, anything you want. Anything.”

“The only limit is your imagination.”

Good god, did I just say that? I promised myself that I would not say that! Such a lazy cliché. These poor kids. Yet somehow, despite my extreme ineptitude, I notice one of the youth, a tall angular kid named Russell sitting in the back of the room, appears just on the verge of offering a thought.

And just as suddenly, another youth – an animated young man named Andre sitting in the front row, proclaims boldly, “I’ve got an idea. I know what story I want to tell. And it’s going to be great!”

Well holy s@#&, I think to myself. Is that genuine interest I hear? It can’t be.

The kid is probably setting me up for a joke. Brace yourself, here it comes. It is then when Nehemiah quickly responds, “damn, that was like all sudden man – so what’s your idea? All passionate and stuff.”

Andre, unfazed and smiling coyly, “that’s because it’s a great idea if I do say so myself.” He then collects himself and proceeds, “alright, so there’s a lot to it, but it all starts with me walking to a party that me and my friends heard about. You know, just a small house party down a few blocks from my place. No big deal. And we being teens, you know, we’re thinking we’ll just head down there and have a little fun and hang out.”

I listen attentively as Andre’s hand gestures become more animated. Like me, Andre tends to talk with his hands. I don’t know this kid from Adam, but I already like him.

“So, we go to this party, and it’s cool. Me and my boys arrive, and we see some people we know, and some we don’t, but everyone is hanging out, and the vibe is cool.”

“And then, out of nowhere we hear this commotion from outside.”

“Commotion?” I ask. “What kind of commotion?”

Andre thinks about it for a moment, “I don’t know, something like a ringing bell, maybe. But it’s something different. It’s a sound that immediately draws me and two other guys outside to the alley, where the sound is coming from.”

To my surprise, as Andre speaks, I begin to envision what the comic story might look.

“So, we go out there, this alley, and we see these stairs – like translucent, glowing stairs – rising up out of nowhere and going up towards the sky.

And me and these two dudes, who I don’t really know, but who were at the party, we are looking at each other in amazement and like, holy #$^%!”

“And I am kind of scared, but at the same time, I see those two guys that came out to the alley with me start going up the stairs, and I immediately follow them. I am thinking that I’ve GOT to see what is up there at the top of these stairs!

“So, we go up to the top of these stairs, and that’s when we see this god-like figure, he kind of looks like Zeus and he’s got this long staff, and we’re looking at each other, not sure what is happening. And I am thinking to myself: is this a dream? But it’s so vivid and real, I am just going out of my mind!

Andre goes on to explain his vision for the story emphasizing that it will not only action based, but also about his own internal struggle of dealing with the morality of having so much power and using that sudden power for both good and evil. All of which would occur in the context of his West-side Chicago neighborhood, and with other people still viewing him as just another teenage boy growing up.

“I mean, there’s a lot to it. There’d be a counsel of elder gods that will advise me as I develop my powers.”

“And I want death to be a central theme in my story. Actually, I want death to be a character in my story that I will have to confront. I know that probably doesn’t make sense right now, but I can explain as we get more into it.

The main thing is that this story will have a lot of different elements. It’s going to be deep. But I also want it to be fun. Kind of like me. I mean, like I said, I’d still be me in this neighborhood with the same family and friends.

So, there’s always going to be that normal stuff that I got to deal with as a kid in this neighborhood. I’d just be A GOD at the same time!”

Nehemiah is the first to respond, “yeah, that’s pretty good. I like that. You can do a lot with a story like that. Lots of action, too. ”Greg responds, “action and romance!”

“Romance? What, you in love with yourself? I didn’t hear any romance.”

“Yeah, I forgot to mention that one of the fellow gods I encounter later in this story is a young woman that I happen to fall in love with.”

Nehemiah shakes his head, “Of course. And she probably looks like Rihanna.”

Andre lights up, “Now that’s not bad! Maybe I should introduce her at the beginning of my story!” The boys laugh.

With that, I wrap things up with the youth. They gather their bags and other belongings and make their way out on their treks home within the neighborhood.

And it was at that time, after the kids left the room and I was going through my project notes, I thought to myself for perhaps the first time since starting this project that maybe, just maybe, we might actually have something here. Something that could bring real value to the participating youth and artists alike, just as we had set out when we first started this modest project that we were calling Made Collaborative.

But I needed to figure out how to create a comprehensive story based on these ideas. On on that score, I knew a lot of work and uncertainty lied ahead…

7 months later …

Dreams Are a Funny Thing

I had a dream. And this is the honest-to-god truth. I had a dream the other day that Paul Simon … you know, Paul Simon from Simon & Garfunkel?

Paul who, some of you may ask? Okay, if you need a very quick snapshot summary of Paul Simon …

Paul Simon is a treasured American musical icon loved by virtually all. He boasts a career that has spanned 7 decades, countless musical hits (61 total billboard hits actually … yes, 61 Billboard top hits, including songs Bridge Over Troubled Water, Still Crazy after all These Years, Mrs. Robinson, Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover, etc.). He also has 18 Saturday Night Live appearances among his many television and movie credits.

So … in my dream, that Paul Simon was trying to fight me.

And not a young man version of Paul Simon. No, the current nearly 80-year-old, 5’3”, 145-pound version Paul Simon. Yeah. And I mean like a real fight.

There he was, Paul Simon, taunting me as a pack of onlookers crowded around like some sort of bizarre school playground scene, all presumably waiting to see Paul Simon kick my ass. For what reason, only the dream gods know.

I remember waking up at some point after Paul Simon poked my chest and asked me if I was “feeling froggy.” I immediately nudged my then-fiancé-now-wife) to tell her about the dream. It was just so random.

Thoroughly unimpressed, she turned away and muttered something unintelligible to me … I can only assume it was for me to go back to sleep (with perhaps a few more colorful words sprinkled in there).

But I couldn’t shake it. Paul Simon wanting to go fisticuffs? What the hell is that about? How do you even begin to psychoanalyze something like that?

Dreams, they’re a funny thing, right?

Of course, many articles and books have been written about the phenomena of dreams. Some say they are a window into our subconscious—those repressed needs and fears that lie just beneath our proper exterior.

Others say they may be a more practical mechanism that allow us to process our thoughts and problems of today, whatever those may be at any given moment.

And still others say that they aren’t anything at all, apart from random brain impulses that are ignited when our brains finally enter that ultimate REM sleep state, when we come as close as possible to separating ourselves from the reality that is our everyday lives.

In short, who the hell really knows? Dreams are a mystery. And, it is perhaps because they are such a mystery, that they were a constant theme during our initial collaborations with the participating youth. Time and time again, just about every youth we initially worked with during those early collaborations would reference dreams as part of their story or character ideas. No other theme was as prevalent.

It was in that context that I would begin to think perhaps there was a way to use the mystery of dreams to connect each of these youths’ seemingly disparate ideas into one common narrative? And by doing so, maybe create a storyline that we could continue to build upon with other youth?

But how to do that exactly … well, that’s where I would struggle.

By that time, I had conducted countless interviews with the initial participating youth. I worked with professional artists to produce corresponding concept sketches and illustrations based on those interviews and collaborations. And I had even developed some initial working scripts.

But something was most definitely missing. And creatively, I had hit a creative impasse.

And as I would think about it later, perhaps that’s what Paul Simon represented in my dream? This creative giant (figuratively speaking of course) mocking my own creative ineptitude? And the youth that surrounded us during our showdown? Well, of course, perhaps they represented the participating youth as I struggled to bring their ideas to some sort of project reality.

Of course, alternatively, the dream could have just been a product of those random brain impulses right before I entered some much needed REM sleep. But, regardless, what was clear, as I was dreaming about getting my ass kicked by Paul Simon, is that I needed help.

Okay, let me be more specific. I needed help on the project.

And on that score …

Enter Len Kody and his presentation on the development of the Back of the Yards comic.

To learn more about how Len Kody helped to make this comic project a reality, scroll down and click on the presentation below …