Writing Exchange II

Writing Exchange
Fresno County and Butte County Juvenile Halls
July 3, 2008

Journal #12
The only people in my family that haven’t been arrested are my grandparents. They’re the only ones that have pushed me to succeed, but I always end up behind these walls. The next time I get into trouble, I’m going to county. I used to be ok with that; I would spend my life behind bars because that’s the cycle of my family. My dad and one of my brothers are both serving life sentences for murder and another brother of mine is on the run after committing a murder. My mom has been in and out of prison. I know now, I do not want to have that life, but it may be too late. I was supposed to get out on July 9th and I still might, or I might get transferred to county. I was told by my PO that I may be facing two attempted murder charges.
I thought things could not get worse until a few days ago when I found out that my grandfather died. The thing that hurts the most is that I could have seen him one more time if I would have been continuing to do good. I actually asked to be locked up this time, so I know it is my fault. It is not probation’s fault for not letting me out early or the judge’s fault for putting me in here, but me for making the bad decisions and not listening to what he was trying to tell me all of those years. So right now I just want to take this time and apologize for letting you down. Know one thing, if I get a second chance I promise you I will break the cycle and make you proud. I’m sorry. I love you.

Journal #13
It isn’t wrong when a mother and daughter have a special bond. I can tell her almost anything even if it’s bad and she wouldn’t even get mad. She’s the only one I can open up to and the only one that makes me feel new. The most beautiful thing in the world that makes me feel calm, there’s nothing I would want more than my mom. Every day she makes me smile, I’ll run to her within a thousand miles. She tried so hard to keep me from trouble. Every day with her my life doubles. In my mother’s glory, she’s my sun in the morning. I would do anything for my mom. She makes me happy when I’m blue, every day she makes me feel new.
But as I took her love and respect for granted, our relationship became stranded. I became addicted to the streets, posted with the homies smokin’ some weed. Mobbin’ deep to crazy parties leaving mom worried, coming home telling her my sorry’s. As I saw the hurt in mom’s eyes, I realized this is why she cries. So I stopped going out and stayed home, annoyed by the rings of the phone. Friends calling, telling me to come through, so I lie to mom knowing I wasn’t true.
As I walk down the street, I see the homie dooms, offering me a couple of his shrooms. Late that night I’m with home-girl stealing cars, in our hand holding chrome bars. Next thing you know we’re caught by cops, as they block us off within a couple stops. Five cop cars stop us at gun point and I’m thinking damn, in the home-girl’s pocket is a joint. As we get arrested I feel a pain in my chest, thinking of my mom and why I put her through this mess.
Now I’m in this grimy hall, hurting, without my mom, so I drop to my knees a fall. Thinking being locked up is hell without my mom alone in my cell, so I cry at night to God and say, I hope to be with her again one day. As days pass by without my mom I’m lost, now I know every action I take has a cost. All these games I was playin’, mom cryin’ while she was prayin’. Now I just sit and wait in my room, knowing I’ll be with her again real soon.

What is life without money?
What is Pooh without honey?
What is a sister without her brother?
What am I without my mother?

I LOVE YOU MOM!

Journal #14:
I remember when I turned 13. My dad had just gotten out of prison from a seven year sentence. I was just graduating from the 8th grade. There were two people I wanted to be there: my mom and dad even though they were not together. I saw my mom when I was on stage. I looked all around hoping my dad would show up, but he never came.
I remember right after the 8th grade graduation, I moved to a neighboring city. My dad was still out of prison, so I went to see him for Christmas. He gave me $150. An hour later I remember looking all around for him. He was gone. I spent a total of 30 minutes with my dad the whole year he was out.
I remember I just finished my freshman year. My mom was a recovering meth addict. I was really proud she was doing well now, but I sure didn’t show it. I was off very late at night drinking and smoking weed with the homies, worrying her. It went from weed to coke now and then, but I told myself I wasn’t doing so bad.
I remember telling myself I was going to make a better life for myself, stay out of jail, and away from drugs. I also remember the day I came to juvie, sitting in my cell wondering how this happened.
The most important thing in the world for me is to succeed. I want to succeed not just for me, but for my brothers and my mom too. I want out of juvie and to graduate high school. After that I hope to go into the Coast Guard or to college. If I did do those things, it would make my mom very proud and I think I owe that to her. My mom is a recovering meth addict. She lost me and my three other siblings when we were younger. She went to rehab and has been clean for 4½ years now. She has a steady manager job and a four bedroom house. So, I think I owe it to her to at least do something with my life. I want to succeed also for my brothers so that they can have a role model and someone to look up to.

Journal #15
One of the most important things in my life besides my family is probably my dirt bike. The reason that my dirt bike is “another” important thing in my life is because wherever I want to get away from people and have fun all I have to do is grab my dirt bike, load it up and just go!
Another reason I love riding my dirt bike is because when I get mad at someone or something, I can get on my dirt bike and take out some anger. The only thing about doing that is most of the time I’ll usually try and do something I know I can’t do and end up falling and hurting myself which sucks, but it happens.
There are many other reasons why I picked my dirt bike, but, the ones listed are the most important.

Journal #16
The most important thing to me is my family because when I was younger my family was messed up on drugs and didn’t take care of me. My dad was never home and my mom was always in bed.
When I got locked up on February 11, 2008 my dad went downhill very quickly because of drugs and alcohol. My mom had nowhere to stay so she was going to a homeless shelter. My dad ended up in rehab and my mom stayed with my great aunt. The only reason all of that happened is because I wasn’t there to take care of them. If I had been there my dad wouldn’t have had to go to rehab and my mom would have had somewhere to stay.
When I get out everything’s going to be different, there isn’t going to be any drugs or alcohol. My mom and dad aren’t going to be all messed up all the time and I’m not going to be messed up all the time either.

Journal #17
The most important thing to me is to make sure my baby niece grows up with a father figure in her life. When I was on the run, I took on that role. Her real father is in prison for three years. I helped raise her from when she was two months to six months old. I got locked up like her father. Raising a baby is a beautiful thing. Now I’m sitting in a cell thinking about her. I just wish I could go back in time and not carry a gun with me to the store. I swear I’d do anything for her. Every time I think of someone else taking my place in her life, I cry. I just hope that the person who does, does a better job than me.

Journal #18
My family is the most important thing to me. After 8 years of wasted time, I have come to this realization. I didn’t know what I had at home. I know that people say that all the time, but I really didn’t know. My mom gave me the world, everything I wanted I got. All I gave her in return were bruises and broken bones. I got in fights with my mom and beat her. She gave me love. It’s like she looked through the evil and only saw me as sweet and the child she wanted. I brought drugs and hell into her safe environment and she still took me and gave me love.
I got locked up when I was 13 for my first time. I thought I was the coolest thing. I went to a probation school and gave the staff hell for 4 years. I have been places you wouldn’t want to be: homes with tweakers. I started to do crack, meth, and coke because I was living under a bridge and in tents. I was too scared to go to sleep and the drugs made it so I didn’t have to. I was invincible, untouchable, and unstoppable. I then went back to prostitution and giving my money to a guy that said he loved me. It took me years to see that the only people in my life I really need, I hurt.
Now I am being given the chance to start all over and believe me I will never mess my mom or brothers lives up the way I did mine. I will never again lay a hand on my mom because the next time I may not get to have my mom in my life again. It took those last two years of living like I did to realize what I had at home.

Journal #19
June 30, 2005 was the day of my awaking. A couple of days previous to this date (three years ago) I was hit with a bomb. I was fourteen and pregnant. My first solution to my “problem” was to have an abortion. I did so much as to go to the clinic to abort my baby. I simply walked out saying, “I will come back later.” My mom and sister wanted me to keep my baby, but me being selfish, all I could tell myself was, “what about my body, I don’t want to get fat. I am too young to have a baby.”
Three days later my sister and I were driving from downtown and flew off the side of a ramp on the freeway. We went airborne. My sister yelled, “Don’t be scared”. That was the last thing I heard as we were flung like garbage into a dumpster. We landed on a tree. A TREE! We thought it was a bush. While we were flying, do you know what my first reaction was? I guarded my pregnant belly. Only two months into motherhood and planning to end it, but yet I protected my child with no concern for myself. At the emergency room they explained to me how lucky I was to be alive. Not only that, my baby was alive as well.
Now three years to the day, my daughter is two and I am trapped in this hell hole, not able to protect her like when she was in my belly. The love this child gives me is the best feeling and most important factor anybody could ever receive. I have to go six months waking up in the morning without seeing her face, without the “momma” she screams in excitement seeing my face. I find it hard to sleep wondering if she will forget me. Does she know how special she is to me? She is the most important, beautiful, special, smart, sweet little miracle God could have blessed me with. When I am released, I will show her how unique she is. Thank you God!

Journal #20
To me, the most important thing is my little brother. He is my life. I love him so much. He is one of the reasons I do right or at least try to do right. Before he gets older and can actually realize what’s going on, I want to be doing good for him and myself. He is one and I am 15. I was raising him for a while because my mom was not doing too well. She was into dope and so was his dad, but now look at me. I complained all of the time about them doing drugs but look where I am at.
I am going to do good this time for my little brother’s sake and mine. I hope that it all works out for me and him when he gets older. I hope when I get out and see my little brother he is happy to see me like he usually is. That is what makes my day, seeing him happy and loving me. I miss that little boy so much. He is my life, my heart, my everything and if it weren’t for him I would have never even thought about getting clean or helping my family.

Journal #21
The most important thing to me
Well, it was always obvious to see
It didn’t matter if you were a little chubby
Because you had always loved me
He was my very best friend
And he was supposed to be with me till the end
If I ever needed someone I knew you were he
I mean you would even hit the bong with me
There was no comparison to my feeling of dirt
When I found out that he was hurt
I had believed that even though he was old
It was impossible for his life to be sold
It had killed me on the inside
As I found out I couldn’t be there for his last ride
And it killed him slowly as he lost his sight
Slowly suffering through the everlasting night
As he slowly lost his sanity
I was hoping for some miracle fantasy
As he was going through this never ending hell
I was trapped in this encaging cell
I remember getting angry going crazy
After visiting where my mom had told me
It had been the day after my birthday
That my best friend had slowly passed away
And that day that I knew you were dead
I thought I’d never stop crying in my bed
So every day I beg and beg to the holy
To please take care of my best friend Cody
He had kept me safe from every evil beast
And because of this his memory will never cease
I don’t care if you think it’s wrong
But my very best friend was my dog

R.I.P. Cody
My family saved him from an abusive owner

Journal #22
What is most important to me is my little girl. My daughter, she is everything to me. The day she was born I was so happy. I felt like I had just won a million dollars. She is so beautiful, just like her mother. She is 10 months old today. I saw her last week, but already I feel like I haven’t seen her in forever. Already I feel that missing feeling I feel when I get locked up.
Words can’t explain how my little girl affects me when I am in here. Words can’t explain how much I love her and how much she means to me. Still, I couldn’t help her if something happens. God forbid that anything would go wrong for her while I am here. I’d go crazy. She is more important than my friends and family. All these walls and locked doors are holding me from seeing her. I’m tired of this concrete and stainless steel. Nine more days left and I can’t wait to see her.


Journal #23
The most important thing to me in this world is “graffiti”. I like art that’s what I do for a living. To me graffiti is important because I know that’s one thing nobody can take away from me. All I have to do is paint, create and decorate. Sometimes I do it so much I get in trouble with the cops, but that doesn’t make me hesitate or give up on my art work.
Graffiti is art. I will do my best graffiti, so I can show the world how good I am. That’s my goal; that’s what motivates me to become better than before. So my plan is to hit college and do some art over there. I want to see if I can get some of my graffiti art in a museum and that is important to me.

Journal #24
What is more important to me than anything would be my beloved son and my family. Ever since I was adopted at 3 years old into the family that I have, they have been there for me. I am more than happy that I was chosen to go to their house in foster care. I must admit, growing up in my family was a struggle, but I did learn it is important to do things on the double. Because if you don’t put your best effort before you, you probably won’t get anything done. Ever since my girl had my son, life seems to be brighter. Every time I walk I seem a little lighter. It’s amazing and a gift from God. The best things in my life are my son, my love, and my unborn son. I love them with all of my heart and soul. It makes me feel as if I can never fall. Will they all stop and forgive? I want to thank God for my kids. If my mother or one of my children would die, I would undoubtedly break down and cry and ask God why. I try and try to be a good dad, but the cemented blocks won’t let me leave.

Journal #25
I always seemed to raise hell. My mother used to tell me I was going to see from behind bars or the inside of a jail cell. I remember getting brought home from school by the cops for stupid things I did. I was getting into fights and stealing from stores. When I was eleven my brother died in my mom’s arms in the hospital. A year after that happened, I started doing a lot of bad stuff like smoking weed, robbing people, getting involved in gangs, and other things that were messing my life and education up.
When I was thirteen I went into a store and stole five bottles of booze. When I exited the store, the clerk supervisor stopped me and took me inside of the back room. He called the police. After talking with the clerk and me, they put my hands behind my back and said I had the right to remain silent. They put the handcuffs on me and drove to the police station. Two hours later I was transferred to the county juvenile hall. I arrived to the hall at 11:23 PM. I woke up in a cell. My mom picked me up at 4PM.
After being released from juvenile hall my first time, I went back three months later. I have been going back on and off for the past three years. I am here again now. Will my life ever change?