A Time For Change:Chapter 5

October 26th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

When I heard the car tires spin off, I knew that it was Trish, and her cab driver was trying to get out of here and fast. I was surprised the he had brought her this far into Lynnville , at night no less. I unlocked all the bolts on the door and peeped my head out. Trish was making her way through the hood rats that returned for the best post up position. I bet that was the number one cause of murder around here. Goldie doesn’t control his people. His philosophy is the strong survive. So, if you can’t protect your corner, you lost it. I understood his point of view, but I thought that caused more slow money days. It wasn’t my block so I let him run it his way. It’s just hard to keep up with all the changes that happen on this block. Back home you knew everyone on the set and if someone new came in he would meet the welcoming party.

Trish came through the door with a little baggie in her hand. The little boy on the corner said this would blow your mind. I stuck my head out the door, Lil J, raised his hand. I mouthed ‘how much’. He put both hands in the air and smiled so I could see his mouth full of shiny teeth. I nodded and closed the door.

I grabbed the bag out of Trish’s hand. She stood there stunned. I guess she thought that my place would be decked out. She was stuck in one spot. I asked if she wanted something to drink. She said something strong, so I poured us both Hennessey straight in my fancy glasses. I had thought about fixing this place up, but I kept too much money in here, giving fiends another reason to break in was pushing it.

“So, now I see why you never want company.”

Just as I was about to tell her she could get the fuck out, there came a very fast loud knocking on the door. I set the glasses down on the living room table, and opened the chestnut box in the middle. I pulled out my .25 and walked to the door. I asked who it was, as I peeked through the hole.

“Goldie!” he shouted. “We need to talk.”

“This is why I don’t have company. Just sit still and be quiet.” I said as I motioned Trish to take a seat on the love seat in the corner of the room. I tucked the gun into the back of my sweats and pulled the strings tight enough to hold it in place. I pulled my shirt over the back and opened the door. Goldie pushed his way in. I was not used to seeing him in this state. I stood back as he paced the floor, mumbling under his breath.

“What’s up, Goldie?” He continued to pace the floor as if the words had never come out of my mouth. I hate when I waste my words, but by his demeanor, I thought it better to wait until he composed himself. He was dressed up in his war gear. All black, scully, gloves and all. Sweat beads formed and fell from his forehead every time he took a breath. His hands were balled into fist, clenched tight. His mouth was tight with every word that partially managed to get uttered. Then like some thing had broken his trance, he stopped.

“I need a re-up. Tonight.” He said in a softer, more acceptable tone.

“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it.” I calmly replied as he began pacing the floor again. “Plus, we’re in the presence of mixed company.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that bitch. I lost all my work tonight. Do you hear me? All of it. I got my two main soldiers coming, and I ain’t got no work.”

“I didn’t rob you, so you need to calm the fuck down. You need to remember who the fuck you are talking to.” I started to reach around my back for my gun when Sean’s voice startled me.

“Where the fuck you been?” Goldie shouted at Sean. “You should have been out there holdin me down. You ain’t no fucking good. Ain’t never been good. Ain’t gon never be good. I should have let your mom abort you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had never heard Goldie lose his grip that way. I’ve seen him beat a man within an inch of his life, but that was slight aggression. This was something different. This was rage. Sean stood there expression less. The last time I saw that look on his face, I had just met him. I remembered how sorry I had felt for him.

I knew that the best thing to do was let them work things out for themselves, but as Goldies’ remark got more loud and hateful, it got harder to sit by. Goldie’s attention was locked on Sean, so I took that time to get better position flanking Goldie. He had kept me safe over the last two years, and I appreciated it, but Sean was my son. He was the only one in town that knew my real name, my real story.

I made eye contact with Trish. She was more intrigued than she was scared. I stared at her with an intense glare hoping to get her attention with out drawing Goldie’s. She caught my gaze, and I darted my eyes towards the hallway that lead to two tiny bedrooms. She shifted in her chair and made the handle of her .25 very noticeable from my angle. I was shocked, but was snapped back into reality quickly when Goldie mentioned my name.

“You think that bitch really gives a damn about you?” He questioned as he shot his eyes towards me. That was it. He had gone too far. I put my head down like I was to scared to say anything. He turned back facing Sean, who was no longer standing in the hallway. He was making his way in front of Trish. “See, she act like she all hard, but when it comes down to it,”

He stopped talking as he felt the barrel of my gun push into the back of his head. He put both his hands in the air.

“Bitch, you know I’ll kill you for this.”

“I think I gave you the wrong representation of myself. You think I give a damn if you call me names. You think I can’t handle a want to be drug dealer.” I pulled back the hammer of the gun, loud enough to make sure it was a clear and resounding noise that made Goldie flinch. “I made you what you are. Don’t you forget that. I gave you the work that made you a king. I have nothing to lose and taking your life would mean nothing to me. I can get your body disposed of for a minimal cost. Matter of fact I bet I can get it done for free.”

Sean shook his head. He hadn’t spoke since he had called my name upon making his first appearance. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted until he took his gun out of his pants. He slid it to Trish. I reached into the back of Goldie’s pants until I located the butt of his gun. I pulled it from his pants and handed it to Sean. He gave Goldie’s gun to Trish, who grasped it with the bottom of her tank velour top. I took two steps back and to the side to make room for Goldie to get out the front door. I still had my gun pointed to his head as he turned and focused his dark eyes on me.

I put the gun down to my side and regained those steps as I got real up close and personal with Goldie. The stature of his hard shoulders softened the more he realized I wasn’t scared. The truth be told, I was terrified. I didn’t give it away though. I stood there motionless like a tree. He huffed and puffed under his breath.

“No matter how hard the wind blows, the mountain will never bow to it.” Goldie was a little slow on the up take. He didn’t understand what I had said. I dropped my head slightly in disgust. I guess that was the mistake Goldie was waiting for. He grabbed my throat and began to choke the shit out of me. I swung the gun and connected with the top of Goldie’s head. It didn’t stop him, so I didn’t stop either. After the fourth hit, his grasp loosened from my neck, in time to see Sean pushing Trish into his bedroom. I swung one more time and this one opened a huge gash on Goldie’s forehead. He stuttered back and then made is way to the door.

“This isn’t over, bitch.” I heard him remark, as I tried to regain my breath. The door closed with a loud bang, and I felt a hand on my back. Without thinking I turned a swung. I put too much behind the punch, thankfully. I lost my balance and just grazed the side of Sean’s face. I felt wetness on my knuckles and immediately turned my attention to Sean. There was a stream of tears rolling down his face. I had never seen him cry. Everything that boy had been through, and this was the first time I had seen him cry.

He grabbed my hand and kissed it. My eyes begged him, NO. I grasped his hand hard and began shaking my head, NO. His eyes pleaded with me. Usually he asks me to help him get out of trouble. This time he wanted me to let him go. I knew I had no choice. I called for Trish. She opened the door.

“Give him his gun back.” I said refusing to let go of Sean’s hand. She wiped off the gun and handed it back to Sean. He took it with his free hand. My eyes began to fill and the tears burned right into my brain. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m tired of being tired.” He caught my attention. I let go of his hand, stood up, and wiped my face. Here he was 13, caught in a life that he didn’t ask for, but instead of running he was going to fight back. All this time I thought I was teaching him. It’s sad when you realize too late the lessons you should learn.

“Ready for war?” I asked trying to hide what I was really feeling. His face hardened over, and his body became tense. His fist clenched the gun, while his other hand hung by his side. I grabbed it, but this time I made him hit himself several times in the chest. I kept hitting him in the same place until he grimaced. “Remember that pain, if you get caught in a bad position. The pain means your still alive, and as long as your alive,,,”

“It ain’t over.” He mouthed back.

I had so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. How much of a difference he had made in my life. I wanted lock him in the bedroom and never let him out. I wanted to save him. To make sure he was alright. Instead I held my tongue between my teeth. Every time I came close to letting go, I’d bite down as hard as I could. When his hand touched the front door, I tasted the blood as it began to fill my mouth.

“I love you, mama.” He said as he closed the door behind him. I ran to the door and opened it. Sean didn’t turn around, he just kept on walking. The burning from my eyes and the pain welling up on my tongue, made me realize this wasn’t my choice. I couldn’t make it for him. We both are still alive so it isn’t over.

“I love you, son.” He paused for only a second. Then kept going off into the night. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again, and my heart ached badly. “Please, come back to me, son. Please come back to me.”

A Big House Reality: Chapter 4

October 26th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

Carver sat on the edge of the bed in Vanessa’s three bedroom house. It was nice, you know, clean and welcoming, but it was no Oliver Estates. The place he once called home until Stacey found out about Vanessa. It wouldn’t have been that bad, if Stacey hadn’t caught him in hospital while their nine month old was having seizures. I wouldn’t have been completely horrible if Vanessa wasn’t having a baby at the time. He screwed up, and he knew it. He never loved anyone other than Stacey, and now she was gone for good.

He had the money to get his own place, but Carver hated being alone. There was always a woman waiting for him, and if there wasn’t he went and found one quick. The only problem, he didn’t like condoms, and wouldn’t let the doctor get close enough for a vasectomy. He just kept having babies.

The house was quiet, Vanessa and CJ were gone out for the day. Carver looked at the picture of him and Vanessa at high school prom. Then he looked at the recent picture of her and CJ. She had changed and Carver realized she wasn’t cute enough for him. He got up off the bed, and began throwing things into his suitcase. He had never unpacked it, so repacking was easy. He grabbed a pen and pad to leave Vanessa a note, but he couldn’t figure out what to say. He had done this so many times, he could always find the words, but nothing. He threw the pad on the bed, grabbed his bags and left.

He got in his car, and stared at the little house. He put the car in reverse and began pulling out the driveway. The vibration of the phone in his pocket startled him. He knew why? He felt guilty. He didn’t want it to be Vanessa. He couldn’t lie to her right now. He turned off his phone.

He waited until he pulled up the Holiday Inn to check his voicemail. There was only one message. It was from the production studio that wanted him for a realty show. They’re shooting in two weeks. They also understand why his wife Stacey couldn’t be there. He was excited, this is exactly what he needed.

I Want To Eat For A Lifetime

September 16th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

I got another story for you. Hope you enjoy.

There was once a man that loved to go fishing. It was his favorite pass time. He spent endless hours everyday out on the lake. Well one day, a huge storm blew through the town and caused the people to lose most of their crops. The fisherman had stored so much fish, he didn’t have a problem helping feed the town.

A couple days after the storm, a young boy approached the fisherman. He said, ‘it was really amazing how you were able to step in and help the town. Can you teach me how to fish?’ The fisherman agreed and the boy started spending countless hours out on the lake. He often got teased for the way he smelled and dressed. He looked and smelled like a broken down fisherman. The boy didn’t care. He remembered how the man had helped save the town and he wanted to be like him.

With the boys help, it wasn’t long before the fisherman had restocked all his fish. The boy thought it would be a good idea to throw a party for the fisherman. He was sure the entire town would show up to say thank you to the fisherman. He went into town to start inviting people. He was shocked to hear their response. “All he does is fish, he should’ve helped the town out. ” “He can’t eat all that fish himself, he should give it to the town.”

The boy went back to the fisherman and told him about the people in the town. The fisherman wasn’t surprised. He just got his rod and went out to the lake. The boy thought to himself; if they can’t appreciate the man, then maybe they can appreciate the action. The boy began making signs to hang around the Town. “Free Fishing lessons to anyone that wants to learn.” Everyone laughed at the boy. No one took advantage of the free lessons.

The next year, the fisherman died, and left everything to the boy. Now he had his own house, his own boat, and his very own fishing rod. He continued to fish everyday and maintain his stock pile. One day, another storm blew into town and devastated the crops. The boy decided he was not going to share his fish with the town. This time he would sell it.

The people in the town who had money, bought the fish from the boy. The people who didn’t have money were furious. ‘Our town is struggling and you have the power to help, why won’t you?’ The boy responded, ‘I’ll help. I’ll give you all fish every time you come to the lake and help me fish.’

The people without money where offended. ‘The old fisherman didn’t make us work for food. He was happy to help out those that needed it. He would be so ashamed of you.’

The boy didn’t move his position. You help me fish, I help you to eat. The people got even madder. Two boys came to the boy and said we’ll help. The boy said, it’s not easy work. Sometimes I sit out on that lake for hours and nothing bites. It feels like I’m wasting my time. Then I have days where it seems the fish just jump into the boat. The two boys shook their heads and spent endless days out on the lake.

Now with the three of them fishing, the stock piles went through the roof. The town was beginning to brace for another storm. One of the boys went to the New Fisherman and said, ‘maybe we should take some fish into town, so we can give it away before the storm hits.’ The other boy said, ‘No. We should go out and hang up more signs for free fishing lessons.’

The fisherman looked at the two boys and told them they were both right. There are some in town that can’t fish. The very old, the very young, and some in the middle that have limited abilities. You can go into town and give them some fish. Then there are those who don’t understand you can be given fish to eat for a day or you can learn to fish and eat for a lifetime. So you can go and put up signs for those who are coming to understand the power of self sufficiency.

The problem comes when you continue to give away fish without offering a pole. Or offering a pole with nothing to sustain you until your first catch. Or refusing aid on the days when the fish just aren’t biting. It’s nothing wrong with helping those less fortunate, but it is something wrong with not giving them the desire to help themselves.

How many people want to sign up for those free fishing lessons? How many people expect the fisherman to continue to save the town? Say that storm hits while the fishermen are out on the lake and they don’t make it. Who will then fish for the town if no one else knows how?

Social Programs are a necessity. There are people out there that can’t do it by themselves. But there are those who refuse to try. Should they continue to get the fish? Or should that fish go to help those that are trying and hit a couple bad days when the fish aren’t biting? Give me a rod and you can keep your fish.

A Time For Change: Chapter 4

September 8th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

When the cab turned onto my street, I sat up and began getting my things together. Okay Trish, he’s not home tonight, you can get some good sleep. I reached down and fastened the straps on my shoes. I stretched up and looked out the front window and spotted Twon’s car. It was parked in the playground parking lot that cornered Telsa Street.

“Driver, keep going please!” I shouted as I ducked down in the back seat of the cab. I caught a glance of Twon peeping out the upstairs window. That slick bastard. He knows that if he cuts off that light I won’t come in the house. He just can’t wait for me to come home.

“Where to now, Ms.?” The cabbies barely understandable voice broke my train of thought.

“Just drive.” I snapped back. Then I composed myself and apologized. He nodded back. “Just get us out of the complex.”

What next. If I go home, I swear I think I’ll kill him. I reached into my purse looking for my cell phone and saw the card given to me by the mystery man. Then I grabbed my phone and dialed Sky’s number. I rang five times before she grunted hello into the phone.

“Were you a sleep?” I questioned not knowing what to expect.

“No. I’m trying to put some smoke into the air, but I ain’t got no wraps.”

“Well, I can bring you some if you let me come over.”

“Okay. Make sure they ain’t dry. Matter fact just get 3 of every flavor.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, a coke.”

“Be there soon.” Click. She cut me off before the sentence got all the way out of my mouth. “Driver, can you take me to the store on Minnieville, then I need to go to Lynnville. He looked at me through the rearview mirror with worry etched into his face. “Please.” I added with a little bat of my eye and flip of my lip. He nodded and turned forward. The rest of the trip, he never looked at me in the eye.

We pulled into the parking lot going way to fast. The jerking reaction made me slide to the far end of the cab. I reached down and collected the contents of my handbag as the cabbie stole the last parking space from a little old woman.

I got out of the car, searching for my credit card. I stumbled on the sidewalk right into the arms of the handsome man. He had dark eyes that made looking away impossible. His girlfriend walked up behind him. She chuckled as she walked to the opposite side of the jeep parked next to my cab. She knew her man was amazing, and she didn’t mind that other women appreciate that. I told him thank you and moved away so he could join his girl in a good laugh. Good for them, at least someone is happily in love.

After I filled Sky’s want list. $65 worth. I got back in the cab, and wondered what kind of reception I would get from Sky when I arrived. Fuck it. I’m on my way now. Maybe I’ll even put some smoke in the air.

A Big House Reality: Chapter 3

September 8th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

Othea was in her kitchen, listening to her Sunday gospel. Though it was Thursday, Othea believed every day was a day for the gospel. She hadn’t seen Mason in two days. She wondered where he was, but didn’t give to much attention to finding him. If he wanted to go out and sing that rap, than she would pray for the devil to give back his soul. He never had to live that gangsta life. She had made a wonderful home for him. They didn’t live in the ghetto, they always had food to eat, and she tried her best to teach him the ways of Jesus. Mason was just a bad seed.

The phone rang. Othea belted out the last refrain from ‘Go tell it on the Mountain’ before turning down the music, and answering the phone.

“God is Good.”

“Mrs. Roberts. This is Wendy Watchman from FR Productions.”

“Hello Ms. Watchman, how are you this blessed day?”

“Very well, ma’am. I’m sorry for the delay, we were having problems with some of our financial backers.”

“No problem, just keep your faith in God and there is no problem he can’t solve. Hallelujah.”

“Yeah. Well. We have scheduled the taping two weeks from now. The weekend of June 3^rd.”

“Ms. Watchman, I’m sorry but that is the weekend of my church’s anniversary. I’m getting special recognition for replacing the roof. I can’t miss it.”

“Well, all you have to do is return the check for $50,000 my company sent to you.”

“I don’t have the money. I spent it on the roof for the church.”

“Then I suggest you show on the weekend of the 3^rd or explain to your church why their roof is being pulled off. I mean you’re a church woman, isn’t it more about the act than the recognition.”

“Fine, Ms. Watchman. I will see you on the third.”

“Please make sure Mason joins you or the contract in null.

“No problem, Ms. Watchman.”

“Confidentiality still applies as well.”

“No problem Ms. Watchman.”

“Good. I look forward to meeting you and your son. And Mrs. Roberts, have a truly blessed day.”

Lil Miss Sassy: I Run This

August 25th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

Once upon a time there was a girl named Sassy.  Sassy was the Shit.  She rocked the Newest Clothes, drove the hottest Cars, had the Best Friends and Loved Life.  Her favorite saying,  I Run This.

Well one day, Sassy was out with her friends.   They were in the Mall when Sassy spotted a Girl that looked so out of place.  Immediately, Sassy and her friends made the girl the target of their jokes.  They followed her around talking about her clothes, her hair, and anything else they could point out.

The Girl heard the comments and was tempted to turn around but she was on a mission.   Sassy and Friends continued to follow the Girl; And they continued to crack jokes.  Finally the Girl was finished with her shopping and headed out of the Mall.  Sassy said, “I Run this Mall.”

Sassy called one of her Boyfriends’ but he wasn’t home.  She tried another, but he wasn’t answering.  She  went to the parking lot and waited for a fly car to ride by.  The Girl drove by in her Honda and Sassy and her friends laughed.  A Hummer rolled up and stopped.  Sassy said “I Run These Dudes” as she got into the Jeep.

Sassy got home and her mother was asleep on the Couch.  Sassy wakes her and asks her if Dinner is Ready.  Her mother has worked a double and all Sassy can think about is herself.  Her mother gets up and cooks for her.  “I Run My Mom.”  Said Sassy.

Then all of a sudden, Crash.  She ran to the kitchen to find her Mother laying on the floor.  She was so panicked, she didn’t now what to do.  She called all her friends and none answered.  She called all her dudes and none answered.  She finally called an Ambulance.

Suddenly, Sassy didn’t feel like she Ran Anything.  She had rode in every kind of car, but she didn’t have one of her own.  She was popular in School, but she didn’t pay attention when they taught CPR.  She got everything she wanted but somebody else always paid for it.

Sassy rode to the Hospital with her mother.  When they took her to the back, Sassy made her way to the Chapel.  She didn’t know why; her feet just lead her there.  She opened the door and who was there but the Girl from the Mall.  Sassy moved toward the Girl.

“I know you didn’t follow me from the Mall.”  The Girl said the moment she saw Sassy.

Sassy shook her head No and explained her visit to the Hospital.  The Girl closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and began to Pray.  Sassy questioned her actions.

The Girl said “I’m talking it to the Man in charge.”

Sassy barked back “I Run Me”

The doors opened and a Doctor ran in to get Sassy.  Her mother had major heart failure and need a transplant immediately.  The feeling of helplessness came back.  She could get clothes and rides from Dudes but she got her food and shelter from her Mother.  Where would she be without her Mother?

They let Sassy visit with her Mom.  Her prognosis wasn’t Good.  She was at the top of the list for a transplant because it was an emergency, but that still didn’t guarantee she would get a New Heart.  Then the Doctor came in with fantastic News.  They had a heart.  A Patient in the Hospital went into distress and the family decided to let them Go.

Sassy  was so happy.  She wanted to meet the family that would be giving her Mother a second chance at life.  Who else?  The Girl from the Mall.

Sassy was perplexed.  Had the situation been reversed, she would not have done the same.

The Girl walked up the her and Said  “Take this as a Lesson.  God runs it.  I’m ready to let my mother Go.  I bought her all her favorite things today as you followed me around the Mall insulting me.  I spent her last coherent moments listening as she told me she wanted nothing but the best for me.  The last thing she told me was to go and Pray.  Then I run into you, again.

Then my Mother dies; at the exact moment your Mother needs a transplant.  God runs it.  I do as he commands, and he lead me to you.  Your Mother got a New Heart,  Did you?”

Learn To Play Your Position: What More Can I Say?

August 19th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

The Story

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Hope. Hope was having a very bad day. She got an A on her Math Test, but the teacher pulled her to the side and accused her of cheating. She got an A on her Oral Exam, but the class made jokes while she was speaking. She was allowed to spend her free period helping in the office, but the kids that were in trouble threatened her for helping the teachers process paper work. She was just having a bad day.

Then Hope goes home. She runs in the house to tell her mother about her day. The first thing her Mother says to her is, “Why didn’t you do something to your hair. You look Horrible.”

Hope tried to explain. “I had two tests to take today and I spent this morning studying. If I had spent time on my hair, I would’ve been late for school.”

Her mother replied, “You think you gon get something out a book? You better make sure you keep yourself up so you can find a Man to take care of you. You don’t want to end up like me.”

Hope was so confused, she to her best friends house. “Why weren’t you in school today? You know you missed two exams.” Hope questioned.

Her Friend answered, “I don’t know why you spend your time in school. I dance three nights a week and make over $5,000. You need to come and work with me.”

Hope couldn’t take anymore. She ran to the local playground. A post up boy saw her crying and approached. He put his arm around her and whispered ‘It’s alright, Ma. Don’t cry. You should be my girl and I’d make sure nobody makes you cry.’

Hope was tempted but she knew better so she continued on. Then she looked up at the Sky and asked Why?

Out of No Where, and Angel appeared. Hope was transfixed in disbelief. “Hello. I my name is Dream and you’re starting to piss me off.”

Hope thought to herself, ‘Oh No. Even the Angel wants to dog me.’

Dream came closer to Hope and began to speak. “Let’s start with your teacher. Did you cheat?” Hope shook her head No. “Then why are you letting her upset you. Does she ever smile? Do you ever see her in a good mood?” Hope shook her head No.

“Let’s move on. What was the topic of your Oral Report?” Dream asked. “How Black People Can Help Other Black People Succeed.”

“Did you believe the words you spoke?” Hope shook her head Yes. “Then you need to get some tougher skin. If you had the same opinion as them, they would probably still ridicule you. It’s not the message, usually it’s more about breaking the spirit of the messenger.”

“Your Mother. She is a lovely woman.” Dream uttered. “She has a job, owns a house, takes care of you, drives a BMW…”

“Yeah, I don’t get it. I study everyday, I teach myself new math, I do random science experiments, all in an effort to be like my Mom.”

“Your best friend is sliding down a pole.”

“Yes and I got Neighborhood boys trying to get in my pants. Do you want to hurt me more by making me repeat this day again in my mind.”

“Honey, Where are You?” Dream smiled.

“I’m in a dirty park, probably losing my mind, thinking I’m talking to a Ghost.”

“You are not in the house putting on make-up, you are not rubbing baby oil on yourself preparing to be groped by random Men; You are taking time to think about Me. Your dreams. You will not lower yourself for a Man because that’s Not what I’m about. You will continue to speak over criticism because My voice is Loud. You will start to SMILE when you face opposition because You’ve seen ME, and you know I’m Real. You will wait for a Good Man because You are Not willing to sacrifice Me.”

“Come with Me Hope, I want you to meet my best friend, His Name Is FAITH.”

The Point

Our dreams are never going to appear out of thin air. Our dreams are never going to fight for our attention. “All the world’s a stage, and all the Men and Women merely Players; they have they’re exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his act being 7 ages.” In other words, everyone will play their position. The question then becomes What’s your Position?

The Teacher

This does not just apply to School teachers. This applies to anyone who is supposed to supply knowledge, but takes offense when surpassed. Your Character’s focus should be on inspiration. When did it become more about your pride than their growth? Why try to bring them down a peg or two, when you helped them climb in the first place?

The Mother

Once again, this does not just apply to ‘Mothers’. This applies to people that have made it, but encourage you to follow a different path. They entered the military as lost souls, found themselves, came back knowing exactly who they are and what they want to be; but will tell you, there is nothing to be gained in the Military. They sacrifice to get accepted to a Great College, then instead of telling that story, they fight for Affirmative Action. Character is built through struggle. They struggle and succeed, then expect you to succeed without the proper sacrifice. Question Motives.

I just have to throw this in. I asked my Cousin; How many people in the hood do think would be good repairing a Helicopter? She laughed and said NONE. I didn’t laugh. I said, “How do you know, when they’ve never seen Helicopter, except flying overhead.” Little Lessons.

The Uninspired

These are the Name Callers. These are the ones’ who have nothing to say, but they want to be heard. They don’t want to listen but want your attention when they lay out their excuses. They know that things aren’t good, but they don’t know how to fix it; so They Do Nothing. Except criticize those who make an attempt.

The Forgotten

Every man plays different parts during his lifetime, but I’m sure all of us play this part at some point in time. Like that neighborhood boy. He could’ve been waiting for the next basketball game, but because of his location and appearance, Hope could’ve judged him as a Dough Boy. Like the Best Friend. How do we know she was stripping? She could have a part in Musical. She could be skipping school to improve her dance. They hire dancers on talent, Not on Grade Point Average. But the money amount would cause you to assume.

For what ever reason, we all get overlooked. It might be the color of your skin but it also might be the tone in which you chose to speak. It might be the fact that you’re a woman but it might have something to do with the way you carry yourself. It might be because your broke but it might have more to do with your broken spirit showing through. It might be that nobody cares but it might be everyone who does care; you criticize, you ignore, or you just treat as a Forgotten.

The Dream

I bet you taught this position wouldn’t exist, HUH? You thought it was the imaginary character. The disappointing fact, It IS. The plays that really need these characters find them none existent. The students who would have an excellent chance to excel in college but doesn’t have one person to help get them there. The boy or girl that gets beat up everyday in front of everyone because Gangs have more Respect than Police. The girl that sees a way out of abusive household by having a baby.

Where is their vision of a Dream? Will an Angel appear out the Thin Air and tell them which path to follow? Yes. We are out here, strong. We just haven’t found you YET. But don’t worry; The Calvary Is On The Way. We’ve been through your struggles and made it out. We’ve be judged, overlooked, kicked, then kicked again when we were down; We’ve been criticized, felt humiliated and lost, and scared to move forward. But we won’t stop because we know The Dream is Real. We see it in your need to question. We see it when you stand up when everyone else would have you on your knees. We hear you when you cry out for help. And we are Coming. If we’re not coming fast enough, then seek us out. I know I won’t turn you away, and I’ll assure you, I’m not the only one.

My Favorite Hope

We all have Hope in Us. Most of Us want Good Things for our lives. We hope to get a good job. We hope to find the right mate. We hope all our basic needs as humans are met. But some of Us don’t like the sacrifice it takes to get there. The price is so high, we focus on the negatives and forget about The Hope. When the Hope is gone, We fill the empty space with excuses.

But what if we stopped and looked at the people who were trying to take away our Hope. They say, those who can’t do, Teach. So if you’re surpassing your teacher, do not allow their words to stop you. You will be greater than them and they know it. If your “Mother” is Bitter and Angry because she can’t find a good man, don’t listen when she stakes your future on finding one. If you know some one has no hope, don’t waiver in yours because they insult you. But don’t Overlook them either. That may be the only way they know to ask for help. At least make an effort to be someones’ Dream. If they don’t accept it, Fine. God accepts your actions, not their response.

Faith

None of these things would be possible without FAITH. If you don’t have Faith, it’s a pretty safe bet your hopes and dreams are Lacking. Now I Love the Lord, with all my heart and soul, but that doesn’t have to be your source of Faith. It can be your refusal to make the same mistakes as your parents. It can be your acceptance that life isn’t perfect, but if I do right, I’m going to be Okay. But nothing feels better than dropping to your knees, telling God what pains you, and leaving that pain with him. Problems don’t seem that insurmountable. Haters don’t sound that Hateful; more envious. And Hopes and Dreams flood the spaces once filled with pain, then anger, then excuses.

I’m going to Quote Jay-Z. What More Can I Say?

A Time For Change: Chapter 3

August 10th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

From inside the cab I called Travis and gave him Big sistas number. One call from me and he gets $1,200 and sometimes long life clients, even though in this business that could be short. If I wanted to hustle myself I could control this town. Everyone here is weak and not about business. That made doing business to damn risky.

We pulled up to the border of Lynnville projects. It must have rained when we were in the club. The night air was crisp and just on the brink of being warm. Early spring my favorite time of the year. I told the driver to pull over. I offered him the amount shown on the meter. He refused. I said okay and flipped a $20 over the front seat.

“You shouldn’t be walking out here all alone, ma’am.” He said poking his head out the drivers’ side window.

“To me, this is the safest place in the world.” I turned my back and walked away. He stayed there for a moment, then quickly pulled off when a group of local thugs got to close to the side of his cab.

I didn’t like living here. I got the money to move someplace nice, but no place nice could be as safe.

Goldie, by far the scariest of all the rats around here, was the best person to do business with. He didn’t speak to me when we weren’t talking about business. When he did want to do business he always had the money, he was always on time, and he told me I can walk safe in his hood. So I dropped the cost of his inventory. Now he supplies to most of the little rats around here, and most of the city. He never tells anyone where he gets his work, so the whole hood thinks he’s banging me. And that’s cool no one fucks with me. It works for me.

I walked down the street. It seemed to be dead tonight. I bet I’d get a delivery soon. There were no fiends, no little kids outside playing way past their bedtimes. Silence and that was worrisome the longer I walked and the quieter it seemed to get. I quickened my pace and made my way into the dirty corridor that led to my apartment.

I checked the halls, both ways, twice. Something just didn’t feel right. I opened the door and went in fast. I bolted all five locks from the inside. Took off my knock Vera Wang slingbacks, and began to move close to the couch.

He startled me as he began to move around. I knew that he was still having those bad dreams that haunted him the 2 years I’ve known him. I heard him softly murmur ‘I don’t want to be a gangster. It costs to much’.

My heart broke looking at him, remembering how alone I used to feel. Shit, used to feel. The way I have always felt. I stayed a safe distance from his swinging range and called his name sereval times raising my voice each time until he opened his eyes.

“They almost got him tonight.” He didn’t have to tell me who. I knew. Goldie had started making a lot of enemies. He had such low prices on his work, no one else could compete. “I put $135,000 in your safe. Do you mind if I crash here tonight?”

“You know you don’t have to ask. Go get in the bed we’ll talk in the morning.”

“I’ll make you pancakes.”

“I can’t wait.” I said as he sauntered off into his bedroom. He was 13 and on the fast track to taking over his father’s business. He had no fear in dangerous situations, because he had nothing to live for, but boy is he smart. I let him have unlimited access to my apartment as long as he brought good grades home. So, he did. I even had to go to the school and get him put in advanced classes so he wouldn’t be bored.

I can’t have kids so he’s the closest I’ll ever get.

My Ghetto

August 8th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

A quarter for frozen Kool-Aid

Hydrants sprouting water

Mother’s watching all the kids, not just theirs

It was my ghetto.

My Moms made us clean up trash

Help older neighbors unload groceries

Turn down tips to get more frozen Kool-Aid

Be home before the street lights come on

Don’t dare judge someone by what they have

It’s by the grace of God you are where you are

That’s a strong black woman

Neighborhood boys didn’t post up by playgrounds

They stepped in and stopped fights

In their own way; doing a little good

I had one say, “You gonna be bad lil mama,

Don’t let them play you”

To young to know exactly what he meant

But I remember those words

Thank you for the advice, brother

That crazy old lady that chased you for no reason

Forcing hugs and kisses upon your face

Smelling like a concoction of all bad scents

Never knowing until to late

The pain that got her there

Husband killed fighting in War

Two sons killed fighting in the streets

A soul lost to TOOO much pain

I would’ve hugged back had I known

Green Eyed Brown Skinned Girls

Judging you by what they see in the mirror

To insecure to ask for help

They hate you for having the answers

Because you were born to look like you do

You can’t be smart and talented too,

Why can’t I?

While you dance and prance

I read and write

While you fix your hair

I increase my vocabulary

Whose wrong?  Whose right?

And yes, I would like that supersized

I’m out the hood now

But I Remember

My Moms (God rest her soul)

My neighbors

My Post-up boys

My Crazy old lady

My Ghetto girls

And I am thankful

I didn’t have the material things

But I had what I needed to make it in life

So many lessons from my ghetto

A Time For Change: Chapter 2

July 30th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

I snuck out of the club a few minutes after Sky left. I only came out because I wanted to get Sky out of that dank apartment. She was so beautiful; I don’t understand why she just wastes her life away stuck inside the house. If I had those long legs and a smile that lights up a room I wouldn’t be in the situation I’m in now.

“How do you know Sky?”

The voice was one I had never heard before. I turned to look and there was the cutest white boy I had ever seen up close. He had a short hair cut, and the light hue of his hair made his hazel eyes so sexy.

“How do you know Sky?

“I don’t.” I lied knowing he could tell.

“Tell her it’s time to stop running.” He handed me a card, turned and began to walk away. Every girl waiting for a cab on the corner was checked him out as he walked away. With their eyes on him, it was easy for me to snag the first cab that pulled up to the curb. If Sky was running from him, she was a fool.

I stuck the card in my bag and told the driver ‘643 Telsa, please’. I closed my eyes and imagined how wonderful it would be to be Sky. Hell, right now I would be happy to be anybody but Atrishia Baxter.