Tales of an Original Bad Girl
Page 14
He was a wild child, who started robbing and and stealing at the age of eleven in an attempt to bring money home to help his mother feed and clothe him and his brother and sisters. He started going to Juvenile Correctional Facilities, and never had a proper education or a chance at life. He told me about how he started shooting heroin, which was the drug of choice in the seventies for all the cool kids and hustlers who were in raised in the projects. He met my mother, who, at the time, was a good girl. He admitted to corrupting her and turning her on to the streets.
After I was conceived, he went to prison and held me for the first time when he came home from his bid. I was ten months old. That was the last time he’d seen me until that prison visit. He said he had started committing robberies in an attempt to provide for my mother and me, and immediately landed back in prison. It was a vicious cycle that brought tears to my eyes as I listened to his story. In total my father spent 29 years of his life in prison. I was sitting in jail, meeting him for the first time, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. My mother was dead! All I had was my dad, who finally got his life together and wanted to make amends with me. I hugged him, letting him know that I forgave him, and we’ve been close ever since. I am proud to say that he has remained clean and sober and crime free.
I can’t end my story without talking about my maternal grandmother. She is all I have left in my family. God has blessed me and my sister with our Nana. I held a grudge against her when I was younger, and it caused us not to get along. She never knew this, but my mother told me that the reason why she ran to the streets and started getting high was because her mother didn’t show her enough love. She was a great provider because both of her children were well taken care of, but she wasn’t affectionate. My mother yearned for love and attention, but she didn’t get it from home, so she turned to the streets. It’s a common tale, so I want to say this: If you have a child, it is your responsibility to nurture that child with love and affection. Love is a powerful emotion, and it will cure the evils of the world. I kiss my daughter and tell her that I love her everyday even when she gets on my nerves. I think of all the time that I yearned for her, and I thank God I am able to be with her.
I also held a grudge against my nana because I felt that she should have took us in, instead of letting us go to my godmother. There was no reason why she didn’t step up to the plate, but I am so happy that she didn’t, because my godmother was the most loving person in the world. After all the pain, anger and depression that I went through, I started to remember all the love that she gave me throughout my childhood. That is part of why I am so nurturing and loving now. I want to love all the hurting children in the world. Adults are set in their ways, but we can save the children. Both of my nana’s children died from the AIDS virus at very young ages, my mother was 36 years old, and my uncle, Kevin Williams, was 42 years old. They were both intravenous drug users, searching for love in all the wrong places.
When I listen to this song, “I Miss You Mama”, I cry and my heart aches for my mother and the life she lived. I wish that I could rewind the hands of time for my family. We represent a portion of the world who struggle with poverty, drugs and crime. Both of my parents and I have spent large portions of our lives in prison. In addition we have used drugs and abused others. On paper, we look like the scum of the earth, and that is how society judges us. I hope by sharing my life, it will explain how we got there, and how our choices changed us. My mother’s choice destroyed her life. My dad finally made a choice, which changed his destiny and saved his life. I am a work in progress. I am making the choice by revealing to the world the Tales of an Original Bad Girl. I choose to live and die righteously. I want to break my family’s cycle of destruction and pave the path for my daughter. Her parents are ex-cons, but we both have made the choice to change. Her dad has successfully remained out of prison, and has been employed since she was born. I applaud him for that and, although we have had our differences we have come together as a family unit to raise our child. We are not in a relationship, but we put our daughter first. He and her, spend time together on alternate weekends. She bonds with him and it makes her happy. He has provided for her financially on his own, without any prodding from the courts, and I commend him for that. He helped me out a great deal since I have been home. I know I describe him as a lunatic, but that was when we were both nut jobs.
He has changed and became a decent human being. My daughter asked him one day, “Why did you hit Mommy?” He paused and, after really thinking about it, told her that he actually didn’t know why. That answer was honest and forthright, which satisfied her and me. He didn’t deny it or justify it. He was bewildered by his actions. No one knows what makes a person do certain things until they know themselves. I know why I lived like I did and I know why I changed. People can change. That is what I want the judicial system to realize, so they can stop judging me, or others like me from our past mistakes. If you ask anyone who knows me, they will tell you I am the most loyal, kind, loving and generous person they know. If you see my rap sheet, you may think I am dangerous, untrustworthy and a very bad person. I have changed, and so can you. No one is perfect but God. So, before you judge a book by its cover, read “my” story.
THE END
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