'Man, Dad...'-- Locked Up Youth Write Father's Day Greetings to Dads Who Weren't There - Youth Commentaries,
Compiled by Michael Kroll,Pacific News Service, Jun 06, 2003

Editor's Note: Incarcerated youth in the San Francisco Bay Area reflect on fathers who were rarely there but, sometimes, are loved anyway.

 

Dad

Peace dad
I get mad
'Cause you don't even deserve
That label
You left me a fable

About a man who works for

AT&T cable

As I sit at this table

That's bolted down to the floor

Livin' behind a four-inch steel door

With time to think

All these questions start to surface

My mind

They hurt so much

Smoke drugs so now the answers

Are hard find

So many questions

So much time

I find you didn't care

It isn't fair ....

You were gone

Like the wind

My momma was strong

Even under the pressure she

Didn't bend

We men

My only question is when

You' little boy

You never bought me one toy

I'm go'n' leave this unfinished

Like you left us

I got to make it for me

And that's a must

--Deep Speech, San Francisco County

My Dad

Well, my dad was like this,
he was in the game for a long time, ever since he was 13.
I was born when he was 16.
He got put into the Ranch when I was a 1-year-old.

When he got out at 18, he got me a JR50 dirt bike.
He had a 25KTM, and we did a lot of things together.

Then my little brother was born so my dad had to get on the grind hard,
and every time my dad did one of his jobs I was there.
When I turned 6, my dad got shot five times
for beating up my mom in Shoreview Hunters Point.

(I'm skipping a few parts 'cause of emotional reasons.)

Then three days after Christmas -- Dec. 28th, 1994
-- he got killed in front of me and damn near my whole neighborhood,
including one of my closet homies, JC.
Like that, my daddy was gone.

Then my grandmother and my grandfather did their best to raise me by staying on my ass real hard.

I still miss my dad very much, and I hope to see him again one day.

At the age 12 I started smoking weed.
Then I started popping stunnas (Ex'os) with my big homie.
We got em' on real big.
I miss my ninjas and my girls,
but I will be back soon to do better.

RIP Daddy, I miss you.

--Cudabeez, San Francisco County

---

A Fathers Love... A Son's Pain
 

Many inmates have grown up without their father.

Does that makes us what we are? Is that the reason?

That man who left my mother, brother and sister to come,
to better our lives by joining the Army, never returned.

That man, instead of returning,
made his roots as a drug dealer after going AWOL from the Army.

That man beat me since I was six.

That man took his sons' and daughter's money
to pay off his drug debt.

That man kicked me out when I hit 17.

That man still grows his money in my closet.

That man locked me in my room seventh, eighth, ninth, 10th grade...
no TV, no radio -- just my thoughts.

With each crack of his fist, each kick,
he took my heart out of my young chest,
but it still beats in the palms of his hands.

I may not have a heart... but it still beats....

I sold drugs but never cheated anyone.
I still live the streets.

He may have created me, but I am still here, he will not destroy me...
I will destroy me.

That man... who is that man? My father without a heart...
(which still beats in his hand)...
I still love... that man....
that man... my father.

Cry for that!

Why do they call me 100 Namez?
'Cause my father used 100 names for me!

--100 Namez, Alameda County

---

A Real Man

A real man to me is someone like my father.
My father is an honest man who loves all his children and treats all of them with respect.

He does his best to keep us satisfied,
buying us what we need and helping us with our problems.
He tries his best to keep us on the honor roll in school.

He shows us, meaning me and my little brother (Lil' Mannie) -- how to be real men.
And he teaches us to do right instead of wrong.

--Gos, Alameda County

---

Dad Where You Been

man dad where you been

now you come in my life

trying to get me to act right

it's been so long since i've seen you

i was about three or four

coming to see you locked behind closed doors

i'm a grown man now

too bad you couldn't watch me grow

you want me to come live with you

but you're so far away

but don't trip 'cause i'm coming

to get us on the right track

i'm still in the game

and pimpin' and doin' my thang

it's in my bloodline

that i got a thug mind

you can't get mad

'cause i got it from you

but i'm giving you a chance

so we can come anew

--Lil' Teddy-P, Alameda County

PNS contributor Michael Kroll (mkmitigates@hotmail.com) works with juvenile hall writers for The Beat Within,
a project of Pacific News Service. The Beat can be found on the Web at www.thebeatwithin.org/news/.

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