The Writing Outside the Fence Writing Contest grew from a workshop of the same name that meets weekly at the Reentry Center in Mondawmin Mall. The Reentry Center, part of the Mayor’s Office of Employment Development, offers job training, job placement, and a variety of social services to ex-offenders. The free workshop, staffed by volunteer teachers, was launched in May 2006 to provide a forum for the community to share their stories and shape their writing. The “fence” of the program name might stand for many things: barriers of writing style or convention, of experience or class, of neighborhood or language, or for a literal divider—razor wire, a wall. The response to the contest suggests that no wall is so high a note can’t be tossed over. And the richness of the material suggests that reading tossed notes is worth everyone’s while. The pieces comprise a rich assortment of songs, prayers, poems, letters, short stories, and personal histories. Some are bitter, some remorseful, others celebratory or whimsical. Many are rawly honest and forthright. All are full of the force of lives lived. The work takes on race, gender, class; liberty and confinement; lovers, friends, children. It is personal, political, moral; it explores what it’s like to be human. First readers and preliminary judges, who pored through stacks of handwritten submissions and chose semi-finalists in fiction and poetry, were local writers Linda Campbell Franklin, Sarah Smith, Jerhretta Suite, Kimberly Williams, Joseph Young, and Urbanite staff writer Lionel Foster. Baltimore authors who gave their time and attention to make the difficult final selections were short story writer Rafael Alvarez, novelist Jessica Anya Blau, poet and director of Poetry for the People of Baltimore Olu Butterfly, Urbanite literary editor Susan McCallum-Smith, and CityLit Project Director Gregg Wilhelm. Essential help and support were provided by Dennis Ferrell and Jozette Pope of the Division of Corrections’ Volunteer and Transition Services, as well as by numerous others both inside and outside the system. Most of all, the contest was made possible by the creativity and craft of every participating writer. —Lucy Bucknell is the founding director of Writing Outside the Fence. Kimberly Williams is a student in the graduate writing program at Johns Hopkins University.
art/culture
f ictio n , f i r s t - p l a c e w i n n e r
From the novel Jack
J
by Roy Johnson
ack arrived back in front of the monster truck to see the pretty light skin girl fussing with Crutty about his other girlfriends. Jack say to hisself, “She know what she was getting into. The whole time she was a no good golddigger.” Jack gave Crutty the sign to cut her off by taking his hand and cutting it under his neck. Crutty told her, “I have to take my little cousin down the westside. We will talk tonight.” She jump out and Jack jump in. Crutty said to Jack, “Show me where you have beef at with them guys. Just in case something go wrong. I can finish where you leff off at.” At this time Crutty and Jack cruise around the strip in the monster truck, pulling up to each corner slow, making sure Jack didn’t miss a soul who had beef with him. Jack said, “Crutty crack the window a little. I can’t hardly see out this motherfucker.” That’s how dark the window tint was. “Crutty, I don’t see nobody out here, let me out.” “Jack, come by the store and check on me.” “I will be down there Friday night, that cool?” “Yeah, that cool,” Crutty said. Crutty only wanted Jack to come down his store in case niggas started getting stupid. Cause wherever Jack go he know the guns go. Jack jump out the monster truck and went behind the church and cut across the yard and started walking down the dark alley. Jack was listen to the rats jump in and out the pile of trash lined up outside the yards. From the noise the rats was making from the trash that instant second, he never notice Cujoe in the dark following him. Cujoe walk up on the side of Jack hand, nudge Jack hand for a pat. Jack look down at his dog and said, “Hey baby, hey baby!” The dog cried out loud, only spoiled to Jack voice and touch. Jack started rubbing his head, ears, and neck. Cujoe stop crying and close his eyes enjoying his master rub. Jack always thought he was a comedian, and call Cujoe “chump motherfucker,” only wishing he could read Cujoe mind. Cujoe might have been saying this! “Bitch you could have leff me in the back yard. Got
niggas out here shooting at me and shit, motherfucker. You told me I only had to bite a dog. Bitch I should bite your ass.” That’s how I would have been, if I was the dog. To Jack avail Cujoe stay by his side and follow him. Jack walk down the alley into his homeboy yard and knock on the door. Jack homeboy said, “Motherfucker don’t be rushing me.” The door crack open as the beady eye midget, Boo-Boo, look up at Jack and smile showing his gold tooth, saying, “It’s my man J to the A.” Then the midget face get cold and serious. “Jack I’m not your nigga, Nigga! Come in and leave that big-ass dog out there.” Boo-Boo said, “Jack, is you going to let me keep him? That would stop people from getting high in my back yard.” Boo-Boo said, “J.J. I’m glad to see you.” Then he holla out loud, “Them motherfucker in the next room think they can run over top of me because I’m a midget. J.J. put all them bitches out.” The midget didn’t hold back as he disrespect everybody in the house. Boo-Boo had love for Jack since one night they was in his house partying. A guy gave Jack a fake 5 dollar bill. Jack went to the bar to buy Boo-Boo a drink. The Chinese man mark a big red “X” on the bill and said it was fake. Jack ran to Boo-Boo house, up the stair to where the guy was freaking off with two girls. Jack broke open the door when everybody was naked, went straight to the guy, and said, “Bitch, I sold you my last bag of crack, and you gave me fake money.” Jack then pull out his knife and said, “Give me back my shit or pay or die.” The guy was so scared he ran past Jack butterball naked and down the steps and knock Boo-Boo down on his way out the door. And Boo-Boo said, “Stay out bitch.” Every since then Boo-Boo and Jack been tight. —Roy Johnson writes comedy, poetry, and stories. He calls Jack his “best creation.”
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