My name is Joseph Dews. I come from a place called Venice, California.
People think Venice is a nice place to visit or live but not for us African Americans.
I grew up in Venice and it’s always been rough. I come from a place where you become a gang member or you’re an athlete.
Many people choose the streets even though they were good in sports. I come from a place where you can barely go outside at night because of the different gangs.
I remember this day perfectly. There’s not a day I don’t think about it or see flashbacks about it in my head. I don’t talk about it much because I hate the memories it brings back. It reminds me of how broken my family is.
Whenever I get home, home doesn’t really feel like home.
Being home should feel relaxing and peaceful so you can just forget about the day. For me it’s the opposite. Before that day I was used to coming home to a perfect family and a home cooked meal.
It was early April and spring semester of my freshman year was coming to an end. In computer class I was talking with my friend Guila when he walked in. Tall, brown, and his light brown eyes glowed at me as they caught my eyes glaring over the most masculine figure I had seen around school. He was a new student. He’d transferred from a school across town. A month went by, and I had been dying to say at least one word to him, a “hi” maybe? My friend told me that he was interested in getting to know me, but I didn’t even know his name. I didn’t believe her until she gave me a note during class. It read: “I'm transferring back to my old school, I didn't get a chance to talk to you so I asked Guila to give you my number. I hope you call and if you don't then I'll understand that too.” It was signed “Allen.” His name was Allen. I thought it was a nice name.
I Don’t Need Him
18: Holding anger at a man who couldn’t stay around to be a dad, but a dad to another non-marriage family. One word, COWARD
17: Jealousy. Seeing everything on social network. It seems so perfect, trying to kill my vibe, but in my head I’m like wait for it, KARMA
16: Papa is on his fourth kid, a boy
15: Feeling unwanted by Papa, didn’t show up for my 15th birthday but attended uncle’s wedding, LIAR
14: Finding out Papa has a new family, tear running down my face, thinking, “Why couldn’t this woman respect my parent’s marriage?”
13: New man in the house but I can’t call him Papa, it doesn’t feel right.
