Success
Seeker:
Rachel
Lloyd
Scars
That Heal
My journey started
in England in a neighborhood where young people’s options were limited:
boys got locked up, girls got pregnant. Nobody expected you to finish
high school, much less go to college. For a young woman, success was defined
as staying with your “baby’s daddy” and dressing your kids
in name brand clothes. I always knew that I wanted more but my circumstance
never seemed to give me a chance. At 13, I left school to support my alcoholic
mother, and although I started off working hard in factories and restaurants,
it wasn’t long before I found there were easier ways to make money.
My criminal activities earned me a lot of fast cash along with a police
record. I began to drink heavily, smoke weed, and sniff speed and coke.
I moved in and out of relationships with older men who never provided
the security and affection that I had hoped. Finally, I was raped, and
then hospitalized for three suicide attempts. Social workers, the school
board, the police, lawyers and psychiatrists were all involved with trying
to help me but I continued to slip through the cracks of a system that
would eventually give up on me.
At
17, I moved to Germany in search of a fresh start but quickly found myself
penniless and desperate. I turned my first trick in a strip-club in Munich.
Tears ran down my face the entire time as I told myself I would do this
only until I could make enough money to go home. The days turned into
weeks and then months; the money and fast life were addictive and I soon
became unable to imagine any other life for myself. I numbed myself every
day with drugs and lies and accepted that I was and always would be a
prostitute. I worked as a prostitute for two years, getting out only after
my crack-addicted pimp tried to murder me. I found a church where they
offered spiritual counsel, as well as a home, a job, and the unconditional
love and support I needed to begin my slow journey back to health.
It’s been
six years since I started my life over, three years since I moved to the
US, and two years since I obtained my GED and went to college on a full
scholarship. Along the way, I gained confidence and realized that I had
potential that I had never tapped into and that I could use my experiences
to help heal others. In 1998, I was a delegate at the first International
Summit of Sexually Exploited Youth and wrote a Declaration that was presented
to the United Nations. The experience changed the course of my life.
I
began to work with adolescent women in prison who had gone through many
of the things I’d experienced. In these young women. I saw so much
promise that was being hidden under layers of abuse and pain and felt
that it was my calling to help them recover and find success. I started
GEMS (Girls Educational and Mentoring Service), which has now been in
operation for almost 18 months.
There
remains a deep scar across the palm of my right hand, seventeen stitches,
a vivid reminder of the last fight with my pimp. It’s a reminder
that I almost didn’t make it, a reminder of how many physical and
emotional scars years of abuse can leave. It’s what makes me stay
committed to a girl that everyone else has given up on. It’s what
makes me get up in front of a room of strangers and share my story. It’s
what make me sure that in five years the girls themselves will be running
GEMS and helping lost and lonely young women to become what I know that
I am: a Success Seeker!
Rapper’s Realm:
The Dreamer and the Schemers
“Tupac,
Mos Def, Master P, Nas, Outkast, even Jay-Zthe
brothers don’t have nothing on me”
BASTARD
Sean “Deep” Lynn
HAD
TO GROW UP ON MY OWN. IT WAS A HARD LIFE.
SOME
BROTHAS TALK WHILE OTHAS WALK UNDER DA STREET LIGHTS. PRAYING TO AN ALTER
FOR DA FATHER WHO NEVER BOTHERED.
RAISED
BY MY MAMA. IF NOT FOR HER I’D BE A GONNA.
AND
WHAT’S SCARIER, WHICH HAD MY HEART FULL OF TERROR, DA ONLY MALE ROLE
MODEL I KNEW WAS STANDING IN FRONT OF DA MIRROR.
HOW
CAN I BE A MAN WHEN I WAS ONLY A KID?
WHEN
I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT IT IS TO LIVE.
I
GUESS FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH, SINCE MY BIRTH, THAT I’LL BE DAMNED
TIL I’M DEAD ON THIS EARTH.
HEADSTRONG,
MY MINDS GONE. WHO CAN BLAME ME FOR IT?
DA
STREETZ RAISED ME CRAZY! AND GAVE ME STRENGTH, BUT BEING A WILD CHILD
OF GREED FOR DA GREEN DA ALCOHOL AND WEED, REALLY NEVA ALLOWED MY MIND
TO THINK FREE.
I’M
ON DA BRINK OF INSANITY WHILE DA WEAK TRY TO DISMANTLE ME. UNTIL IT’S
UNDERSTANDABLE THAT THEY CAN’T HANDLE ME.
**AND
NOW DA LAST WORDZ FROM THIS DANGEROUS HAZARD.
U
CAN’T HATE DIS SNAKE, I WAS RAISED AS A BASTARD
STILL
TODAY, SEEING KIDS HAPPY WITH THEIR DADS, LEFT ME THINKING. KINDA HATING
AND KINDA HAD ME SAD.
U
MISSED MY FIRST FIGHT. FIRST RIDE ON A BIKE.
IN
SKOOL, A RARE GOOD GRADE. AND MY FIRST DATE. MY FIRST ATHLETIC EVENTS
AND OTHA IRRELIVANT S#%!
MY
FIRST HUSTLES AND ALL. FIRST TOUCHES WIT DA MOBS AND FIRST BRUSHES WIT
DA LAW.
IT
LEAVES DEEP EMOTIONAL SCARS. MY HEART DON’T PUMP NO BLOOD CUZ I WASN’T
SHOWN NO LOVE.
NOW
IT’S DRIED UP, AND ONLY PUMPS VENOM.
I
KNOW IT SOUNDZ SICKENING, BUT THATZ MY STYLE NOW OF LIVING.
MY
HEART WAS TORN APART. CUZ ALL U HAD TO DO, AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK, GIMME
A CALL. BUT NAW!!!
NOW
TELL ME DO U THINK U DESERVE DA RIGHT FOR ME TO CALL U POPPA. AND LET
YA BACK IN MY LIFE.
WELL
WHO DA HELL AM I TO STOP U.
*CHORUS
NOW
A DAZE, I’M GLUED TO DA VIEWS ON DA NEWS ABOUT DA YOUTHS BLAMING
THEIR CHILDHOODS AND USING THAT AS AN EXCUSE.
FOOLS
DOIN UNEXCUSABLE RENDEZOUS.
I’M
NOT SAYING IT’S MY EXCUSE, I’M JUST TELLING MY TRUTH.
MAYBE
IT IS IN MY ROOTS. OR I LEARNED IN SKOOLS.
MAYBE
IT’S GENETIC. WHETHER OR NOT LIVING LIFE STRESSFUL AND HECTIC, AIN’T
PLEASANT.
IN
A TIME OF GREED. I NEEDED A HERO. BUT INSTEAD I CHILLIN WITH VILLIANS
AND HANGING WITH NYMFO’S.
SO,
IN UR EYES, I SEE UR SURPRISED. DIDN’T YA REALIZE,
THIS
GUYS MENTALITY WAS AS SOLID AS A BOULDER?
WHILE
DA REALITY IZ I’M A TOLERANT SOLDIER.
EVERYTIME
WHEN MENTIONING MOMZ IZ STRAIGHT NEGATIVITY.
WHAT
DA DEAL, FOR WITHOUT HER THERE IS NO ME.
I
KNOW WITHOUT U. THERE IS NO ME TOO. BUT AT LEAST WITH COUNTLESS ENCOUNTERS
SHE’S SEEN ME THRU. U KNOW?
GIMME
A SEC. I MEAN NO DISRESPECT DAD.
BUT
AS A MATTER OF FACT, WHY DON’T YA JUST STEP BACK.
ON
DA REAL, U MY HEEL, AND I AIN’T GOT NO TIME FOR THAT.
TRUE
TO DA GOD’S GRASP, IF I CHOOSE FOR OUR PATHS TO CROSS,
WATCH
WHAT U SAY AND DO.
I’M
HIGHLY PISSED OFF. WHEW! AHH! I JUST NEED TO COOL OFF.
(DEEP
BREATH)* CHORUS
The
Real Oppressor
Helina Metaferia
“The
pale and pink faced men in ties are the source of my pain.
They
hold my people down with invisible chains.”
“Poverty
is the government’s creation.
They
uphold it while pretending to support liberation.”
“There’s
this system, a cycle that can’t be broke.
Society
has sentenced me, and left me provoked.”
These
words are echoed by the many who dwell on “the system.”
Those
that a make a list of the oppressors responsible for their condition
Somehow,
the real oppressor is rarely mentioned on this list
The
one that stares at us in the mirror and shares our fingerprints
Along
the way, we’ve become our own oppressor
When
we let our ignorance to matters swell and fester
When
we tease the child that dreams of escaping the projects through books
When
we hail the blood that glorifies ignorance in redundant song hooks
When
we say it’s hopeless and we’ll never gain progress
But
procrastinate to call the unemployment office
When
we scorn the youth for street warfare and fronting like they’re hard
But
encourage victory if our child engages in a fight in the school-yard
When
we insist our clothes must be designer and our manicures filed
So
we can strut into our roach invested tenements in style
If
we can’t acknowledge the faults we present
How
do we dare take credit for our achievements.
Day and Life
Armone
Washington
It
seems every time I try to find
Peace,
serenity, and solitude
All
of a sudden I get interrupted
By
some cat being rude
He
givin' me mugs
Yo
this kid think he a thug
I
brush it off and still give
Love
But
naw, he don't want to hear dat
He
rather hit me with a bat
However
I am clever
I
stand strong thru all my righteous endeavors
You
see I don't want no beef
I
wanna walk the streets in peace
I
got no time
For
no misdemeanors or felonious crime
Yeah,
I know and he know
Yo,
we all know
Police
would love to see me run amuck
So
they can lock me up
But
no, see
That
Thug Life mentality messes up
My
economic opportunities
I
am a lone warrior
I
have to choose my battles wisely
I
have visions of entrepreneur
Not
a cell space in the upstate penitentiary
So
all in all I avoided a brawl
That
day was not my final call
Mind
moves at the speed of light
So
I spread my wings and take flight
I
bid you a farewell and a good night. |
