Growing up as a foster child in Baltimore City has allowed me to experience EVERY hood at some point. I stayed longer in some hoods then others but i learned some different shit from every one of them. Like how the prominent blunt in E.V is the backwood but when you go down Whitelock, they blowing chocolate cigarillos (smh). Me, I'm a vanilla dutch person all the time.
My mother moved a lot when i was a young girl. My family is from West Baltimore and my bloodline runs deep. Edmonson Ave and those parts. We spent like 9 months on Division Street back in 91 or 92. That neighborhood too me off the steps. I lived right around the corner from Shake and Bake, the neighborhood skate rink. I couldn't have been more than 7 at the time. My peer group at the time was at least double my age and my mother didn't give a fuck. I ran away for the first time for an extended period of time and got my first suspension and she ain't know for 2 weeks. Stayed with Spanish Maria and her mother like it was nothing. Back to the topic at hand. I spent every available moment running the streets, rocking 5411's and skating like crazy. I heard Tupac for the first time and started writing. I learned about Islam for the first time--that original thought. That hood opened me up for real.
Freedom Way-- when they first opened up back in like 93 ended that travel with the family shit. My stepfather at the time worked as maintenance so we were living free with dope fiend guardians. At that time i was in like the third grade and my home life was extra crazy. My teacher knew. She claimed she felt for me and wished she could help me but she didn't. I was trying to excell at school but everything was getting to be to much. Between the beatings and the other shit that was happening i couldn't take it anymore. I was outside chilling with my home girls (again damn near twice my age) and my mother dragged me in the house by my hair for nothing. That was the beginning, then one evening while in her room i sliced my finger on an exposed razor and she beat me. Her husband was the worse. Anyway that community---environment taught me that i had to be in it for self. I fought a lot. I'm a alpha female. I realized that there was something else beside the hell i had at home, they showed me MIDDLE SCHOOL. Dead ass, i found out about middle school and i just knew i wasn't going to make if i stayed there.
For the sake words, what transpired there landed me in a group home for a while. Let me rewind a little bit. One of my 6 month placements was to a family in Westminster. They first showed me something different. There were a few foster children. The family was racially blended and they were happy. When i started school i was one of maybe six black children with four coming from our house. Academically i held my own. I had already learned the escape of words and my familial responsibilities taught me to count money early. I never wanted to leave but i had to go back, my mother was married. They came and got me some weekends in the beginning but Amelia quickly deaded that. When shit went down i called them and the came and got me promptly. I couldn't stay there so i was off to the group home.
Man, we were far from anywhere i knew and it was a locked down facility. Apparently i had some issues that prevented me from living within a family dynamic for close to a year. Damn orphanages...i just rejected families. I knew i wasn't going home. A lot of girls there wanted to be reunited with the biological, i wanted the right set. I ran a few times then got smart and created a time gap for me before school so me and the other female that attended my school could do different things. I learned how to make things work for me. I went through the label and diagnosis stage of that shit and they released me to a firefighter and his wife. Dude was a pervert too but it didn't matter to me because by then i already knew what it was. He never touched me but after school he would watch porn while i sat on his lap, then he would send me to the store with a $20. When his wife worked weekends we would go shopping. He used to buy me porcelain dolls. Not cheap doll that i could play with-- we would go to antique shows and he would let me pick my doll, then we'd hit the mall. I even called him daddy although i called her Ms. --------. Not to call her a slouch, we shopped a lot. she wanted a "daughter" and i needed a "mother".They had a son that was 2, she wanted a girl. Our (her and i) relationship soured because she started to notice the gifts. She would be like, "where did you get this?" I would say, "daddy bought it for me". They vanity sealed the deal. He had someone make me a pink vanity with my name carved in the top. the argued for hours about it. This cycle lasted about 6 months.
Park Heights here i come. Apparently, the family that my older brother lived with had available space and he spoke highly of me. Initially i didn't want to go. I had hand picked my family and i wasn't giving that up. I was extremely apprehensive at first. Went on weekend visits like i had a choice in the matter. This is where i would remain for the next six years. Park Heights. Every part of this enigmatic hood. I mean at one end you have a poor, heroine rich ghetto and that the other end a Jewish community. Seriously. But to make it even more serious, all the youth from this lowly ghetto attend school in the heart of the Jewish community. Park Heights raised me no matter how misguided i was. I learned that i had a passion for Spanish as well guns. i was taught that my advanced mathematical skills were a plus. I learned what loyalty is and isn't. I almost lost my life in that hood and even witnessed the death of one of my closest friends at 11.
As deep as Edmonson Avenue runs in my veins, Park heights is in my heart. I got my foundation at that point. I was wild as a fuck. i lost all hope towards the end. The streets had sucked me in. No, i wasn't pushing anything in my veins but i had abandoned all regard for life, even my own. I was ruthless and reckless, not giving a fuck at a young age. By sixteen, i was hopeless. I gained my only FRIEND up their. I also caught my first case up there. Learned what a rat was, real quick. I also learned the importance of education before i lost control, so when i got back on track i was good academically. I could have been better had i not been sitting in a cell but i was good. Thanks to a few good instructors and a dedicated principal, i finished a year ahead of my class.when I came home i started college a semester before my high school class graduated.
Jail is a different type of hood. It is an environment all its own. I can only describe the experience as being striped of humanity and caged. I spent exactly 5 months and 19 days on solitary confinement. 23/1 simply because i was sixteen.No bail, no visits besides lawyers and only my friend flew me kites. I never focused on my situation as much what happened next. Looking at the prospect of prison showed me how alone i was. I got my G.E.D thinking that i was going down Jessup. Well i didn't i went to juvenile detention instead.After i did their program, social services decide maybe i would do better in East Baltimore. I was only 17 by this time.
To be continued..
0 comments:
Post a Comment