That beyond the walls
Behind, the mask and confident smile,
Was a broken man trying to grow up and
Make life worthwhile
For those of you who did not read my article last week, you should go stand in a corner, like Sagan says. However, I am going to be nice and brief you – I basically spoke (or should I say wrote) about role models, how “I ain’t have no role models, now I gotta be one” and how a bit of anger, frustration and “self-consciousness” comes to the surface when I think about that topic.
You know how you watch movies and documentaries where young men join gangs because of the “brotherhood” and then you probably sit back thinking, “He so stupid.” “Why would anyone put their life in danger for friends?” “His life couldn’t be that bad that he needed to make such a stupid decision.” It actually doesn’t seem like a bad decision at all in the moment. A lot of the times, the decision is a conscious one, but the reason behind it isn’t even realized.
Around my last year of high school, I hung out with a group of guys that were formally Crips. There were two guys in particular that I was closer to, who grew to be like brothers, but when we hung out “squad DEEP”. Now I was never formally made a Crip. (My mom would probably say something like “Crip you want to be? Come let me break your little legs so you can Crip!) I did rock the colours heavily, especially when we were together; I knew the handshakes and the gang signs, and I had the assurance that if anything ever went down, “I got your back, Cam.”
There was this one guy on the French side that always wanted to do a gang handshake while we were at church. Like, bro, could we not? At basketball games, and really at any public event, he would introduce me as “a big Dutch side Crip”. My eyes would get super big, “Like, bro, are you trying to get me shot?” Looking back, it probably wasn’t the smartest set of decisions I made (lol) however, I appreciated the brotherhood then and some of them are still my boys today.
I had brothers growing up. Some were closer physically that I could see them often and some were closer relationally, but none so much that I ever remembered opening up to them about anything. I think it was due to the “systematic” underlying issue – they not having a good father figure or role models in their life, so they grew up not knowing how to be that for anyone else – hence my search for that connection.
There were things I learned from male figures that I went outside of my “home” and clung to, that my brothers were well capable of teaching me – like playing basketball; two of my older brothers were amongst the best on the island in their time, but much of what I learned was from the boyfriend of one of my sisters. I can’t remember if he offered or if I just tied myself to his backpack, but whenever he was on the court, I found myself on the court.
Now this isn’t a knock on any of my brothers. I understand the effects and the damages that are caused when we don’t have a positive role model or influence in our own life. It’s HARD to be or even want to be that for someone else.
But you know, somewhere along the way, someone has to break that damn cycle…
If you couldn’t already tell; this will be continued next week.
*Cues Lovin' Me by Jonathan McReynolds*
