How can I help you….

How Breaking My Cycle Almost Broke Me, Employment Edition, Pt. 1: A Past of Prostitution and McDonalds



I had a desire to make money as far back as I can remember. In fact, if I had known I would be working so much I probably would not have started so early. I can’t blame it on my mom even though we were homeless, I didn’t realize how poor I was until later on in life.  Living house to house, or in a motel on the track was fun in the beginning.  Besides, she made sure I always ate and had clean clothes even if she had to sell herself and wash my clothes in the tub, she made it happen.  I believe I was between the ages of 9-10 when I held my first unofficial job at the local 7-11 right next to the Brighton apartments on Rainier in the Southend of Seattle.  It was owned by a Black couple who probably noticed that we would come in and steal food (Aliyah, Tan, and I) and instead of sending us away, they hired us to put prices on the items we had been stealing… The irony.  On top of giving us food for the day they would send us home with money in our pocket. Not a lot but enough to play video games with and have bus fare. I remember they were really nice and believers in God; I believe the husband was a Pastor. Fast forward to about 13 when I held my first official job at Taco Time.  I definitely looked 13 but when you have a will, a way, and a mom who was determined to try to redirect my trajectory to a life of prostitution, we made it happen.  My mom erased the year on my birth certificate, and I took it to Evergreen H.S., and retyped it in my typewriting class and wah-lah I was 3 years older when I went to the DMV to get my first identification card.  When I would run away, I would still go to work or go on job interviews, after I had quit the previous jobs because something in my life had happened.  I never let the chaos disrupt me from making money, if I could help it (were talking major crash out when I didn’t have money) even if the chaos was a part of me making money.  I had so many jobs I can’t even remember them all.  Kind of like the men in my past (paid and un-paid, I honestly forget them). 

I can honestly say that my employment history complimented my life in prostitution. I definitely knew how to placate a man to avoid getting hurt further due to my exploitation.  Furthermore, I could discuss anything, and if I didn’t know about it, I would learn about it. I was polite and used to dealing with customers as I had worked at jobs like Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, Microsoft, and Seattle Times, just to name a few.  When I first worked for an escort service, I was told to think about all the things I would be able to buy for my baby, and to treat them like they were a customer, which is what they were just the goods were me versus a product or a service from a company.  When I started dancing my customer service was what I relied on.  My ability to talk and connect with the customers had me sounding like a bona-fide pro because it damn show wasn’t my dancing.  The level of nervousness cannot be measured, as I would sweat and shake. I was very uncomfortable with my body and being stared at on or off the stage.  The only way I could combat my nervousness was to drink and smoke.  My dancing had the customers saying things like “you don’t belong here,” or “this isn’t for you.” Once I was loaded enough to not shake or freeze on stage I would dance, dance.  I’m not talking about the seductive, sultry tease one might imagine in a strip club.  I was doing the running man; the cabbage patch kid, and I never knew how to truly pop it until my dancing days were well over.   I think I got more money out of pity than anything and of course it was usually stolen by the other dancers who would watch me get loaded and steal money or attempt to set me up some other kind of way.  The customers were right, I was not made for dancing in a strip club, I belonged in someone’s office answering someone’s phone anywhere but there.  I really don’t think I had a choice in that matter at first. One might say that I had one later when I decided to do it on my own, with the exception of when I was forced, coerced, etc., (better said, a lack of choices and examples).  After having witnessed my mom in the lifestyle and others around her; After being exploited as a kid; and later on turning a date with one of my mom’s tricks when she wasn’t home after he decided to stop by the house when I was a teenager (Sneaky Pete was what my mom called him, and he was sneaky alright, snuck right into her house when she wasn’t home and propositioned her daughter).  I was destined to follow in her footsteps, I could’ve said no to him, but I wanted the money and by watching my mom and living life I learned to get them before they got me, or did life teach me that? I don’t remember.

Either way, I graduated High School with an emphasis in Jack-N-The-Box’s menu and no idea that I could be successful in college without a scholarship or money.  In contrast to the majority of my homies, I entered the workforce and kept a job.  I kept a job even when I was hitting licks and no one even knew it.  My mom eventually found out; however, I suspect she had always known long before I started dancing.  She didn’t put me down for it, she just wanted me to be safe, and she wanted me to provide for my children because she would have to watch them.  As long as I was coming back with money so that we could live and I wasn’t paying no nigga, she was good.  I just wish that I had known that coming out about what I went through and even put myself through, would come back to haunt me. I didn’t think about how admitting that I was something that most people detest would make it even harder for me to obtain employment or be used against me when I stood for values and so on. No matter what I was doing (in the Life or in the workforce) I had niggas trying to ruin my income because they couldn’t control me. If it wasn’t some nigga showing up to the club where I worked at, calling them to get them to fire me; they were reaching out to the client driving them away, not coming back with my car etc.  Even when I didn’t have a nigga blatantly blocking my money, I had professional women and men (sometimes at the welfare office) turning down their nose and opportunities for advancement using my past against me if I spoke out about things, or wanna-be clients in positions of power standing in the way as gate keepers to my success, misconceiving my past with my future and purpose.  Once you’re in the Life, you’re in the Life; I’m convinced you will never live past that label (in the broader scheme of things) Even after being in the life I experienced prejudice for identifying as a survivor both in seeking resources that would support me and in employment.  I can’t verify that, that was the reason, but I’ve spoken to other survivors and those that don’t identify at all who stated that this agency would not hire you if you identified as a survivor.” Even if you didn’t agree with one of the speeches or presentations, I have given or the film highlighting the impacts on Black women and girls, for prevention and education purposes, to openly look down on me for things I could not control or to get in the way of me making better choices by obtaining honest employment is heartless at Best.  And let’s not forget that I’m Black and on the bottom of the “Whore-archy,” where I end up experiencing discrimination on both sides; and the criminalization because of the melanin in my skin which increases my vulnerability and access to services that can change my life…. It’s not just people bent on keeping me in my place, it’s my criminal background and the debts that I have as a result of me being in the life and being exploited that follows me. Even with the help of an agency my past still comes up.  I had to practically beg to get my current case management, after they removed me from the waitlist instead of putting me at the bottom like I was told they would, when I was unable to make it back to Texas to get case management, I was told I had to start all the way over, which resulted in months with no help.  Only when I contacted the Director after being stonewalled, and explained to her that my issue was not with their waiting list policy like the screener had said but with how I was handled in that process. I was told I was put where I should have been based on the time I reached out; and had it not been for me having some clue of what was available to me I wouldn’t have been considered for the application process to have my debt reviewed to be removed.  I had to ask my case manager to give a warm handoff, otherwise she would have just had me reach out to them on my own.  I had to explain that a warm handoff is what was needed and she agreed to do “2 of them only and I would have to introduce myself to the rest of them.”  Realizing that this meant that this would be an upward battle, I continued to focus on employment, the only way to take care of myself, the only way to survive….

Taking a double take at the screen on my phone I was surprised that McDonalds had responded with an interview even if it was the AI virtual agent Olivia.  In Portland I couldn’t get a job at any of the fast-food places (including McDonalds, no one would hire me but that’s a different story) and it seemed to have followed me here as well up until now.  I chose the soonest interview, which was the next day and since McDonald’s was just next door to the 3rd sober living house I was living at, at the time, that would be right up my alley.  I arrived 10 minutes early and sat at one of the tables to the side of the cash register.  Once it was time I approached the woman at the cash register and asked to speak with the manager stating that I had an appointment.  I noticed they were super busy when I first walked in but they the one’s that scheduled the interview at that time, so they must have someone available I thought.  The lady seemed agitated when I stated that I was there for an interview and not a Big Mac.  “I will go get her,” she said as she turned away and begin to bag an order.  Remaining patient, I took a different seat this time right in front of the cash register so I could see behind the counter, and they could see that I was waiting.  Everyone was super busy and by everyone, I mean the 2 to 3 Black people sprinkled amongst the multiple Hispanic women rushing to pack orders speaking to one another in Spanish and occasionally glancing my direction.  After about 20 minutes I walked back to the counter to the left of the cash register and waved to get someone’s attention.  “Hi can you let the Manager know that I have an interview at 2?  “I just told her, she didn’t come out?” “No,” I stated as I looked at my watch I had been waiting well over 30 minutes.  “I will let her know again, were just really busy,” she said as she headed towards the back of the kitchen.

Glancing at my clock well after an hour later, I approached the counter attempting to get a response one more time; I smiled and waved at a short Hispanic woman who had been giving orders mostly in Spanish to the other employees.  Stopping and turning towards me she gave me a look of confusion followed by “Yo no hablo ingles.”  Smiling inside I responded, “Es tu jefe aqui, yo tengo una appointamente?” Quickly turning from me, she laughed as she begins to speak to the other employees way faster than I could hear over the loud noise of the kitchen.  Never turning back to acknowledge me, I felt defeated as I resigned to the fact that although I had asked multiple people for the manager or the interviewer, they weren’t coming.  A few days later I followed up by calling the store and even spoke to 2 different men, on 2 separate days, who both got my name and placed me on hold, without ever returning to the call. Fast forward to a month or so later I receive a call asking me to come back in for a 2nd time.  This time there was a lady sitting in the lobby waiting, so when I asked an employee for the manager, she eagerly pointed her out.  Sitting down across from her I was ready to discuss my shift manager’s skills, and she seemed responsive and receptive.  Giving me the job after asking a few more questions, she went on to describe what the position would entail stating that “I would be able to be trained in all the positions before being a shift manager,” and that I would be able to “work at least 40 hours, possibly more.”  Leaving the interview, I remembered that I had forgotten to ask about the pay.  Quickly I googled what shift managers make in Fort Worth, and it said, “between $17-$21 dollars an hour.”  After texting her and asking her she responded via text with a simple response “13 dollars.”  That would be her text M.O., very short precise answers if at all, as she eventually stopped responding all together.  When I asked where else or whom else I could call, I wasn’t given an answer and she eventually stated that she wasn’t receiving any of my text messages, she gave me her home number too, but nonetheless she stopped responding.  My first day was good.  I knew I would have to be very careful due to my environmental sensitivity, so I was ready with 2 masks in hand.  I was told I would be working alongside a gentleman for training, and I would start at the first drive-thru window.  I listened for about an hour and was told I could start by taking the order over the headset.  I was given a headset that was missing a cushion which made it very uncomfortable.  I asked the Hispanic male, (we’ll call him Jose) for a new one and he said, “there were no more.”  Pushing through for the sake of work, I begin to take orders and as soon as I begin to do well at taking orders a bunch of co-workers begin to walk past and have side conversations with Jose while he was training me.  Even the maintenance guy took this opportunity to get a ladder and open up the ceiling right adjacent to where I was standing followed by 2 to 3 other employees standing by him.  There were so many people either talking to Jose who was on the other side of me or standing around the guy in the ceiling, I wondered who was cooking the food or taking orders?  Then I began to hear a lot of banging coming from the kitchen.  I guess they were trying to break up the meat, which made sense since it was kept in a freezer, but it almost felt excessive. This was right around the time I heard a voice over the headset “take her off drive thru,” or something to that affect and right away Jose was grabbing my headset and sending me to the front.  Bang, bang, bang, I heard as I walked past the area designated for making hamburgers etc., to the front of the kitchen. This would be common if I walked by that area, everyone working in the kitchen would begin to make lots of noise.  That’s if they knew I was there because there would be times when I would pop up and they would be so busy they wouldn’t see me and there would be no excessive banging.  There would also be a lot of times when I would ask for orders specifically mine, where they would say they didn’t speak English or “yo no hablo Espanol.”

It was evident that my co-workers, mainly in the kitchen, did not like me.  They didn’t outright say it, but their actions spoke louder than their Spanish words.  Know matter how I tried to speak Spanish, they still acted like they couldn’t understand me.  I knew it was intentional especially when I would be complimented by Spanish speakers on how well I spoke Spanish at the cash register.  When I would ask for my food while on break, I would be given really old meat or burnt buns and way too much sauce.  There would be times I would get physically ill after eating or drinking food that they had made.  I thought maybe it was from the exposure to the fryer as it would often smell as if they were burning the food intentionally when I was there.  I eventually caught one of them reaching way into the back of the heated drawer where they kept the meat to make my sandwich.  Asking for another one that was freshly cooked; “necesito una pienza de pollo recien hecha por favor?” Again, they acted like they couldn’t understand my broken Spanish causing me to say it multiple times.  I started asking for my food then going to the side where I could watch them and then my manager told me I couldn’t watch them make my food.  Like I actually got in trouble for watching them make my food. “You need to go to the front and wait,” she yelled over the noise of the kitchen.  I just stopped eating their food and stuck with the drinks but after getting nothing but coffee grinds in my coffee, and catching my assistant manager about to put bleach or putting more bleach into my drink that was the last straw.  Of course they would try to give me old fries as well, but I started making my own and if I couldn’t make it because we were too busy, I would go hungry.  Around my 2nd day I met my assistant manager who got so close to me I could feel his breath on my face as he told me, “Wait til you work my shift, I do things different.” Stepping back for breathing room I asked him what he meant by this, smiling he said we just “keep things moving.”  I responded, “that won’t be a problem, I’ve worked in fast food before.”  I would routinely get ignored by the manager in training while he would complement others.  I would politely say to him that “it was nice to give everyone encouragement” and his response would be more like “I don’t have to, I don’t work at this store I’m just training.”  All this before I was on the schedule all the way.  By that I mean I would have to show up to work even though I wasn’t on the schedule.  Often getting yelled at for being there and not being on the schedule by that same short lady who now could understand English.  I remember one time specifically when I got there the manager told me she “didn’t know if I could work because there were already too many people there.”  I explained to her that I had traveled a long way and she just completely ignored me and went to the front of the kitchen.  Staying back in the back room I thought it not a good idea to follow her when Jose came up to me and said that the manager had said that “I was being aggressive.”  Shocked I was like “how by asking if I could work on a day that she told me to come to work?” Smiling, he shrugged his shoulders and I just passed it off as a miscommunication; eventually the manager came back and said I could “work 3 hours.”  I did notice that while they had begin to put me solely in the front mainly responsible for the front cash register, and keeping the bathroom, the main lobby and the children’s play area clean; the rest of the employees got to rotate taking orders, working the cash register, bagging and running the food, even sometimes even in the kitchen etc. (except for the kitchen they worked the kitchen only) I paid it no mine at first, but I begin to hurt myself from constant cleaning every day.  When I said something to my manager, she hinted to the fact that the other employees “didn’t want me back there with them.”  And when I would be allowed to prepare food at least bag orders, someone would intentionally not be on the fryers, or someone forgot to put ice in the soda machine causing everything to get backed up, or they would start putting the sandwiches on the other side (I didn’t even know that existed) so I would be waiting and asking the kitchen for food that was already prepared only for it to be out of sight. It was always an emergency if I was in the kitchen otherwise if I was in the lobby or at the cash register things would go smoothly.

One day while working under my assistant manager I ended up burning myself on the burner that I didn’t know even heated up until I burnt myself. Asking my manager for a band-aid, he first said he didn’t have one” then I guess after digging another manager came with a small bag of Band-Aids.  My assistant manager hinted to me that I was “being a baby” for asking for a band-aid.  Ignoring him I continued to ask for one as I worked the next day, however I was told “there were no more band-aids and to use some butter.” This went on for days, with no band-aid until I went and bought my own band-aids. The behavior wasn’t just my manager or assistant manager, or shift managers it was everybody.  I was told by one of the other shift managers that “I was too nice” and she “would show me how not to be so nice.”  I politely declined that offer and that was the last time I was able to work the drive-thru.  One day sore from all the cleaning, I was asked to run some food to a customer waiting outside.  They had made it a habit (although they weren’t supposed to) to say they didn’t know where the customer was waiting so I would have to go to every car and ask them was such and such their order.  It was really hot so I said I would take one order at a time to prevent having the hot Dallas wind knock over the tray as I went from car to car seeing if the food, I had was their correct food.  As I was going out the door I heard someone say, “she’s slow, why she ain’t taking all the food at once?’  After finding the car and going back to get the second order and finding that car as well. Things had slowed down enough where I was able to address the front of the kitchen “who said I was slow?”  Immediately, my assistant manager said it was him. Controlling my tears I asked him to not “call me that.” Leaning on the front drive-thru soda machine he smiled nervously and doubled down saying “I meant not smart, slow bus, retarded“ and some other not so nice adjectives to describe me.  I eventually let him have the last word as all the other employees begin to laugh.  I honestly didn’t think it was him that originally said it but he definitely followed suit and so did others especially after that.  I was routinely bumped into when there was plenty of space, I was waived off or ignored when I asked shift managers and others for advice.  I was even told that I was “from New York” by a co-worker who was adamant that I was lying to her when I said I was from Seattle.  My assistant manager would constantly reference “a ho, or that ho’s gonna be gone soon.” Things like that.  I had another manager who flat out told me I was lying about receiving money from a customer because the cash register was saying that the order was still there, but it was a similar order and when I tried to explain that it wasn’t the same order he made me go get the receipt from the customer which resulted in me digging in the garbage for it. He didn’t even apologize.

And of course, I was constantly texting my manager and now the owner as I eventually got tired and did what the sign said to in the back of the break room. I was scared to take it beyond that as my assistant manager would have multiple family members up at the job.  I just was hoping things would get better if I worked harder.  But nope it didn’t and still no answer, and no response from the higher ups.  I just left multiple messages about what I was experiencing.  I continued to ask about an employee number and was never given one.  “They are working opening another store, you think they are gonna just stop what they are doing for you?” I was like damn my manager don’t care no one cares, I thought. So I continued to try to ask for certain days on paper because I couldn’t log into the system without an employee number. I continued to be low-key verbally abused by the assistant manager who seemed to get a sick kick out of it, often saying he was the “devil.”  This time I had to tell on him in front of everybody because she wouldn’t make him stop if I left a message.  I had to ignore it all, I had to keep working even if I now had a sharp pain that went from my back all the way down my right leg.  It was crippling.  I would try to go to the gym and get in the hot tub to try to alleviate the symptoms, but it wasn’t enough.  It got to the point where I let the manager and assistant manager that I couldn’t do mopping and sweeping I was in pain and I needed to heal.  I was looked at and ignored.  The manager even knocked over a drink while she was sitting with the manager-in-training and called me over to come clean it.  When I re-explained to her that I was still in pain she just looked at me.  I went from 35 hours to 6 or 7 hours a week.  I was devastated, I couldn’t live off of that.  Remembering I had put in for cashier at a place around the corner I went there after getting off of work and wouldn’t you know it they were opening the very next week.  I took the opportunity that I had with Texas Fish an Chicken and made it work.  However I was encouraged to quit McDonalds and work for him full-time.  He said he wanted to look out for mee and would give me a car because he wanted me to be there early and ready to work.  He went on to say that I could work as many hours as I wanted and again not to worry because he just needed to do a few minor repairs and I could have the car.  This place was super busy but I was able to maintain.  When I say I did everything in that store except cook, I did.  I had to ask him to bring someone else to help me (I would later on regret that) but it was a lot.  There would be times when I would help close to 200 customers throughout a single day by myself.  My manager at Texas Fish and Chicken kept pushing for me to quit McDonalds and after being called “slow” again by another shift manager there, I left early and told them I was taking some time off until I could get a car.  I mean I really wanted the job, the ability to train and be a shift manager but not the treatment, not the overworking by making me basically just clean.  It was so bad that customers would see how I was being bullied and say something to the manager and it would never get back to me, there would never be a change of behavior.  I remember seeing my assistant manager from McDonalds come into Texas Fish and chicken grill and he just looked at me with his hands crossed and walked back out.  I told my manager at Texas Fish and Chicken that, that was my manager and he said laughingly, “the way he looked he didn’t come in here for food he came in here to see you.”  I agreed, I really just wanted to put everything behind me; I really just wanted to take care of myself and get on my feet.  Even though I had experienced repeated workplace comments and inconsistent application of company policy, along with formally documenting concerns; all known and seen by people in power and still no one did anything, no one except God that is….

Colossians 3:23-24 (KJV)
“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance; for ye serve the Lord Christ.




References:

Polaris Project: National Survivor Study
National Survivor Study – Polaris

Polaris Project: NSS Findings, Full Reports, and Issue Briefs
National Survivor Study Findings and Resources – Polaris

Counter Trafficking Data Collaborative
Polaris Data Overview | CTDC

Consumer Financial Protection Bureau
https://www.consumerfinance.gov/rules-policy/final-rules/prohibition-on-inclusion-of-adverse-information-in-consumer-reporting-in-the-case-of-trafficking/ – Google Search

Consumer Financial Protection Guide
I’m a victim of trafficking. How can I block items from my credit report that are the result of trafficking? | Consumer Financial Protection Bureau

Debt Bondage Repair Act- SharedHope
What is the Debt Bondage Repair Act?

Bible; King James Version
Colossians 3:23-24

For me, thoughts of my Grandma were almost always centered around the Red House,

whether I was surrounded by my older cousins, or just me and Grandma hanging out

Grandma was always there for me, there was no maybe,
You can etch that in stone, I was Grandma’s baby

All my favorite moments as a child happened at the Red House

Whether it was camping out in the backyard, playing smut, or spoons, or enacting one of my older cousins imagined cartoons

Reminiscing in detail Susie was always there, not quite in front and center, but in the background somewhere

Susie was the epitome of Black Girl Magic if you ask me. 

Every time she was around, you were guaranteed not to hear a sound

Her presence demanded all the kid’s attention
She would captivate the room like a special kind of hypnosis, creating a trance like intervention

Her math was always math-ing, she was something like a whiz

When she was around problems would go down, and we would be lined up, all of us kids

You could say she was an extrovert; everyone knew or heard of her as soon as they came through the door

2nd to me, her and Grandma were really tight, I mean they were really close, Susie was there day and night, together they would do the most.

“Iron sharpens Iron” they say, well Grandma sharpened Susie every day

Smart as a whip, strong as a bull, Susie stayed in shape when Grandma was in the room

She was so popular, not just with us kids, the adults around would speak of Susie’s biz,

And Susie she had her favorites as well, if she really liked you, everyone could tell

Which brings me to the last time that Susie was around
All us grandkids were outside the Red House, horsing and playing around

Grandma had warned us to stay away from the Bee’s nest

I couldn’t have been but 3 feet tall if that, there was no way I was involved in that mess

Well boys will be boys you can guarantee that, and next thing you know everyone heard hollering and hooting coming from the back

As little as I was I still knew that this meant trouble, there was so many of us when one was impacted we all got in trouble

Grandma with Suzie in hand, lined us all up there was no way I was going down for this, enough was enough.

With every ouch and ooh I moved one person back, by the time I got to her they would both  be tired, that’s a fact?

Besides, I was Grandma’s baby, there’s no if and’s or maybes, she would take it easy on me

Well wouldn’t you know I was the last kid standing, nerves intact, quenching my buttocks I moved towards the door,

Grandma grabbed me with her left hand and held on to me giving me more, more of Susie that is,

I screamed out in pain, Momma I called, what kind of sick game…

Through the door I could see my mom and everyone else smiling ear to ear
There was something not fair about this whooping I feared

Why did everyone else get to walk through the door, while I got held back, my portion of whoopin was way more

That day I learned what it meant to be Grandma’s baby,

That meant I got extra of everything, her time, her love, and her friend Susie

A hard lesson I learned there is no going around,

Whether it’ s God or my Grandma a chastening is never lost on those that have been found….

Revelation 3:19 (KJV)
“As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore, and repent.”

“NOT AT 7425” you won’t and I guess she was right.  Why did I even go back there, the Lord only knows why.  After going there the last time and being ambushed while I was depressed due to my past employment issues; basically kicked while I was down by my own aunt for saying “nigga” to her, then being told I could only leave through the front door, down the front stairs that were covered in ice and snow basically so I would fall (I’m assuming but what else would have happened had I even attempted it). I had to have been insane thinking it would have gone any other way….

Was it for closure, or because I didn’t have anywhere else to go?  Was it because I wanted to see my daughters, and that was my best chance?  Or was it because I wanted to cook for my moms birthday since I couldn’t face the way she was taken from me, the way I was excluded when she couldn’t even make decisions for herself, the way I couldn’t save her, the things I witnessed her go through by her neighbors and the very family who did nothing while she suffered but who doubled back, the things she told me she went through that I brought back to life (with her permission) that my own uncle told me ” never to speak of” and punished her for doing so before she died? I mean I didn’t even come for the celebration of life, was I even invited after not being able to face her death? Yea, it was definitely all of those things or maybe it was none of them.

-Some Text Messages from Monday January 19th-

(Text from me to my aunt)

“YOU NEVER SAID IT HAPPENED TO YOU BUT MY MOM AND LINDA SURE DID.

AND IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT MATTERS IS HOW MY MOM WAS DONE AND HOW YALL TRYING TO SWEEP IT UNDER THE RUG.

I TOLD THE TRUTH IN THE VIDEO AND I DID NOT SAY YOU JUANITA GUY GOT RAPED ON THE VIDEO.  HO WATCH IT”

*GO WATCH IT SINCE YOU DONT BELIEVE ME.

“as far as the text maybe I accidentally inserted your name where my MOM’S should’ve been and if I did I apologize.

I did say that Ron said he wanted to fuck me because I was trying to stop him from anusing Jordan and I got kicked out because I couldn’t talk to him right after he said that.

And all yall didnt try hard enough to help me with my mom I said that.


Don’t you worry I’m not done talking about what Calvin and your brothers did to my mom.”

“A whole month I was kept from my mom and you didnt know, ok lol have a good day”

(Text from my Aunt to me)

“You said it in the text I read it myself and no I will not watch it, You can stand by whatever you want, I know that I played no part in her POA or medical decisions other than to offer for her to come here when she called me crying because she had nowhere to go, you even said that I made her leave because of Trent which was also not true, i didn’t put your Mom out nor ask her to leave, she left because she was mad at me because I told her she needed to do physical therapy so she could walk again, your blaming me for what you think I had a part in and not factual happenings”

Text (to my aunt from me)

“If it was in the text it was a mistyped.

The rest is what matters to me.

And its all gonna come to light don’t you worry, like I said the video was the truth and I’m not done so if anyone said they watched the video and I said you they lying, and if I typed that it was you I mistyped that and I apologize because you never said you and aunt Linda only said Calvin “tried to have sex with her”

Also my mom was not in her right mind when she left your house.  She went back to her apartment and those people took her to the bank and she supposedly gave people money who did not like her, people she didn’t talk to after Trent and his brothers were doing stuff to get her to leave while you were at work”

*Text (from my aunt to me)

“I don’t worry I  sleep with a good conscience, you can say and do whatever you want I have nothing to hide or be worried about regarding your Mom”

-Text Messages from Wednesday February 18th (My mommas Birthday)-

1st Text (From Me to my aunt, 9am)

“Happy Birthday Momma”

2nd Text (from my aunt to me)

“Happy Birthday Barbara 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 “

3rd Text (From Me to my aunt, 1pm)

“Hi, when you get home from work can I come over and make me a crab boil with my moms butter sauce?”

4th Text (From my aunt to me)

“Are you asking to come cook at my house for just yourself “

5th Text (From Me to my aunt)

“I only have a little fs left.  Im happy to share what I’m able to afford.  You no we don’t deny people food

Crystal Trent’s sister denied me food and gas money to try to go see about my mom in the hospital in Washington, but we not them”

6th Text (From my aunt to me)

“I knew whom, but what does what someone else did have to do with me and my household, you should reach out to Laylay because she was thinking of cooking a meal in honor of your Mom that way there will be enough for the household”

7th text (from my aunt to me)

“So funny she just reached out to me.  Did you reach out to her?”

8th text (from my aunt to me)

“Yes”

9th text (from me to my aunt)

“Oh, ok, well I think she wanted to cook something different so we can put them together because that’s what I want to cook”

*I was making a point, my apologies for the confusion, like a misplaced joke..lol

“Can I wash a load of clothes and my bedding = 2 loads?”

10th text (From my aunt to me)

“Ok you know my washing machine does not take full loads, its only meant for a household of 2, your bedding alone would be 2 loads”

“Are you going to need to go to the store”

11th text (from me to my aunt)

“I have the comforter you gave  me and 3 pillow cases = 1 load + my clothes (1 load) = 2 loads”

“I dont sleep on the sheets/blankets here.  I just wrap up like a like a burrito in what I came with..lol”

12th text (from my aunt to me)

“I thought I gave you sheets as well”

13th text (from me to my aunt)

“Yes I need to go to store is Trent at work?”

14th text (from my aunt to me)

“He will pick you up on his way to get Laylay so yall can shop together I don’t know exactly when, you can ask Laylay”

15th text (from me aunt to my aunt)

“Im a call him”

“🫶🏾”

“Trent said he on the phone with the IRS”

“He has them on speaker and asked me to call you”

“So I wont get to your house because he stopping everywhere wont take me to the store he said he would  so I might get there at 6 or 7 after he rushed me at 2 pm to leave Matt Dishman”

“Sandra’s coming but the way I’m being taken everywhere else and they chilling I will be there late.”

“Im waiting for my Lyft from Safeway.  I dont have power that’s why I didnt answer”

-End of Texts from that day and between me and my aunt-

February 18th (My account of what happened)

I felt weird my mom not being here. I was too tired to go to the gym and I had been crying all night, all morning for that matter. I decided to text everyone else happy birthday to my mom since I couldn’t text her.  So I texted my daughters, my aunts,my uncles some of my cousins, I even texted “the love of her life”/abuser turned “devil”, Keith.  I wished I had her phone which had that guy Larry’s number (Keith’s cousin).  Why was he texting my mom like that.  Why was he all in her phone and Keith’s no longer in her phone.  They took everything that could prove what she had been going through but like my mom would say “keep it moving baby, you got this!”  No one texted back except my aunt and Dalayjha and thankfully After I was given half-assed permission to cook at my aunt’s house.  It didn’t seem like she was too excited about that.  Dalayjha didn’t seem the same, and I have to accept that something happened and I hadn’t spoken with Paris at all but I was still thankful.

Trent had said to “be ready at 2” and he would pick me up from the community center, so with tears running down my cheeks I gathered my energy together and got off the floor to brush my teeth, grabbed my towel, swim clothes, and hygiene and was out the door.  As I passed by the New Seasons I decided to go in.  Immediately the counter containing fresh baked goods caught my eye, the chocolate cupcake specifically that I used to buy her were glistening through the display case, lingering there for awhile I could feel the tears beginning to well as I turned away to hide them from the baker as she asked me if I “needed anything?” “No, no thank you” I said deciding against buying anything as I walked out the store. Crossing the street I allowed the wind to dry my tears turning my head upwards I could feel her through the sun beams on my face, through the cloud breaks in the sky, through the squirrels crossing my path stopping to give me a knowing glance as I marched onwards.

After a short while I made it to Dishman checked in, and noticed I had a few hours so I headed to the gym to shoot some hoop.  Somedays my accuracy is better than others but baybay when I tell you I made almost every shot. Thanks to my skills and my angels guiding my ball. After working up a sweat, I made my way to the pool in my yoga pants and sports bra and began to warm up by moving my body in the water.  Emerging my whole head in the water I attempted to touch the bottom of the pool and after unsuccessfully trying a few times I went to the hot tub to let the jets ease my muscles that had been aching and contracting as always lately. After the hot tub I went back to the pool took a deep breath blew all the air out and jumped into the cold water, sinking all the way to the bottom until my feet touched it.  I did this a few times attempting to shock my nervous system back to health.  After a few Tabata’s and a couple laps I felt rejuvenated so I made my way to the locker room to see that I had 3 missed calls.  I looked at the clock and it was 1pm. Half holding my towel I dialed Trents number back, “yea what’s up,” I said. “Are you ready come outside, I’m out here.” “I asked you to come earlier and you said “no” that you would come at 2, I’m not dressed yet, give me 30 minutes I just got out the pool.” Hanging up the phone I felt as if I hadn’t even had gotten in the water.  Every bit of joy seemed to melt off me as the realization that this was not going to go as planned.  10 minutes later the phone rang again and I ignored it trying to do something to my hair with conditioner and grease only. Looking in the mirror I chuckled to myself as I felt like I didn’t even know myself anymore. I used to do my hair or at least I had a way to do my hair, I used to care about my clothes but as long as they are clean I would wear them again. Grabbing my things I exited the locker room as Trent called again. “I’m on my way outside” I said as I hung up the phone not even waiting for a response from him. By the time I made it to his truck he was on the phone so I sat outside the car because I didn’t care to hear his conversation. He motioned to me to get in the car but I acted like I didn’t hear him. I truly did not like this man anymore. I could see through his facade and I guess he didn’t like me either, and that’s ok. I finally gave in and got in the truck as he continued his conversation. I don’t know why he was rushing me because he literally sat there talking on the phone for about 10 minutes before starting to drive slowly down the back streets. Everything in my body wanted to scream “F-ing DRIVE!” but I practiced patience, I practiced using the fruits of the spirit (peace, love, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control). I just wanted to cook for my mom’s birthday. I just wanted to celebrate her. I just wanted to know what happened, why they allowed her to be taken from me, why no one told me she was there, why???? I was focusing on thinking about the end result. He eventually turned towards me and told me to call my aunty stating she had tried to call him. I texted her and let her know and continued to try to self soothe myself as he was driving in the slow lane allowing every truck to get in front of him. After around 20-30 minutes we finally made it 3 miles at the least (by freeway) we stopped at a store where we were to and pick up my daughter. Trent asked if I could get him a water so I went in the store and grabbed his water and me a beer. Eventually my daughter came and I got in the back so she could be in the front. On the way back to the NE Trent said he had to stop and pick up his grandkids. I asked “could I please just go to the store first?” His response was something like it wouldn’t take to long and we needed to go to a different store (Wincos) on the side of town that we just had came from. My blood boiled at that point however, I maintained self-control but I was crying on the inside. Like why wouldn’t you just drop me off. Why didn’t you say this earlier? All these thoughts came rushing through my head all at once.

Once we made it to the NE, my daughter asked to be dropped off at my aunts which he obliged no problem. Once she got out, I stayed in the back seat and he/we went to pick up his grandkids. Little cuties they were. That actually made me feed better. I asked Trent “could I just go to Safeway or Fred Meyer nearby.” He responded “that’s too expensive Joy.” I was like “I don’t care” I want to go to the store. I don’t remember what he said about the store but he said he had to go pick up his daughter now. At that point I put my head in my hands and looked at the babies, and turned on my music to keep my spirits up, to keep me grounded. After picking up his daughter I was told we had to go to King School to either pick up another one of his grandkids or drop off his sister Crystal’s grandkids. I’m not sure at this point as it is close to 5pm and tears were actually falling. Once we got to King School, Crystal’s daughter and a few other people were there that Trent was either related to or knew. It was at least 3 cars and they were all talking and chatting. As calmly as I could I was like “you told me to wait until 2 and then you rushed me, and then you say we have to go to a specific store and I have my own food stamps, and you won’t even take me to get my clothes so I could wash, what the fuck is going on?” Immediately, his daughter grabbed her baby and Crystal’s grandbaby and said “your doing to much cussing.” This left me and Trent in the car. I ignored her and continued to ask Trent to please take me to the store.” He said something along the lines that we had to wait. Someone who was parked behind us who I thought was just someone waiting for their kid came up towards my window and started talking to Trent who stayed in the car. I had a feeling that I should just go, if I was ever going to get to the store I should just go, so I grabbed my wallet and pushed the remainder of my stuff underneath my swim clothes and I just walked away. I turned my earbuds on high and sang to the Lord, sang to myself, sang to my mom as I walked to Safeway which was about 3-4 blocks away. Once I made it to Martin Luther King it begin to rain. Passing by the meat market someone was grilling ribs and I jokingly asked for “a rib.” That seemed to make him chuckle, but I was serious. Making it to the store I bought potatoes, shrimp, crab, seafood boil, corn, a cupcake pan, onions, peppers, rice (I spent all my stamps and the last of the money I had and I assumed my aunt had all the seasonings I would need. The guy at the counter was nice enough to package all the seafood and I made my way to the checkout counter when my aunt tried to call me. I didn’t have much battery left so I let it go to voicemail and she hadn’t texted so I didn’t think it was important. I called the Lyft and went outside to wait when a lady asked if I had some change. I told her I didn’t but I would go buy her something, so I did just that. It was my last, but it made me feel good to be able to give. Walking back to stand in front of the store I began to feel a bit of relief. I had managed to get to the store and now I would be able to cook for my mom, in tribute of her for her birthday.

Pulling up to the house I immediately felt a sense of despair. One of the garage doors was open and I could see my aunt standing in the dark. Now, it was dark outside but not completely so it didn’t quite strike me as too weird. Grabbing my groceries 3 at a time sitting them on the curb, I looked once more inside the Lyft to make sure that I didn’t leave anything. Picking up 2 bags I walked up the incline leading to the open garage door saying “hi,” I took 2-3 more steps towards the garage door that led to her kitchen and I lost balance and fell with my groceries in my hand. Walking from her car she made it right towards me and said “Jordan put that there, are you ok?” “I’m fine,” I said lying, because how come you didn’t let me know there was something in front of the door and you seen me get out of the car and come this way and why are the damn lights off. I stuffed those emotions down picked up my bags and the items that had fell out and walked them up the stairs to her kitchen and went back outside to grab the rest. Once I got inside with all my groceries Leeko came around the corner with lot’s of energy and I matched that trying to mask my sadness. “You making sweet potato pie Joy?” “No but I’m making something close, sweet potato cornbread,” I said. “That is a nice necklace you got,” I said. “Here you want to wear it?” Sure, I will try it on. “Is this cubic zirconium?” He laughed at me as I posed and took a photo and posted it right to my Twitter (X). Giving him his necklace back I begin to prep for the seafood boil chopping up the onions, bel peppers, sausage, and potatoes when I realized I didn’t have any seasoning salt. I looked in the cabinet and there was no salt, pepper, garlic powder nothing. Walking to my phone, I grudgingly tried to call Trent to ask him if he could bring some seasoning as I noticed my aunt walk from the living room heading down the stairs “hey can you see if there’s some seasoning downstairs,” looking at me she nodded her head and went down the stairs. Leeko began arguing on the phone and I walked past him into the upstairs living room where I saw the twins sitting in the dark as well. “Why y’all in here with all the lights off, I didn’t even know you were here,” I said as I turned the lamp on so I could see them clearly. I haven’t saw y’all in a while, y’all are so big now. Turning around I went back into the kitchen to look back in the closet like the seasoning was gonna reappear when it seemed like my aunt, my daughter, and Leeko were all in the dining room as Sandra showed up as well. “Aunty, can you please call Trent and ask him if he could get some seasoning please?” “I’m not calling him and asking him anything and neither are you!” “Wait, why not?” I said surprised as her tone was one of disdain to say the least. “I just want to cook for my mom,” I said as I turned around the knife flew out of my hand and hit the butter dish and it cracked. Fuck I thought as she said “get out my house,” “Wait, why I just want some seasoning, I just want to cook!” I turned back towards my food and tried to keep chopping as Leeko came over to me saying “put the knife down.”

Everything immediately went from 0 to 100 real quick. ” I’m not leaving, I need to cook all this food I bought!” My aunt yelling responding to my comment “we bought all that food, you breaking shit get the fuck out!” Ignoring her I turned around again and tried to continue cooking and here come Leeko again, “Joy put the knife down you have to leave!” “This is not your house so stay out of it,” then here come my daughter all yelling at me, why because I accidentally broke the butter jar, or is there more to it. At that point I just pushed all that shit on the floor including the knife because that’s all I need is for them to say I was trying to cut someone. Walking over to my phone that was plugged in here come this little nigga getting in my way. I grab my phone, he knock it out my hand as he trying to push me towards the garage. No, no, no, no, no, I thought to myself and with one more swipe I grabbed it as he pushed me almost to the garage door and as I stood basically toe to toe with him I said again, “please stay out of it, this is not your house!” His response was to yell at the top of his lungs “Get out!” Now I knew this was real and this was happening. As he grabbed me again all the fight in me just left and I fell to the floor. Trying to turn on my camera so I could record what was happening he grabbed at my hands in an attempt to knock it out my hands. I heard him yell to someone “grab her hands” and next thing you know I have him and his daddy standing over me grabbing at me. Together they picked me up and carried me through the garage outside and sat me on the pavement. I got up just in time to see his daughter looking at me as she put the car in drive and smashed off with my bags in it.

What in the hell was this, I thought to myself. I got up and honestly I wanted to run, so I did I ran towards the street and I heard Sandra calling my name and I stopped I had never heard her cry and she was crying. Just felt like a failure, more of a failure. “What is going on, go get my wallet, why did she leave with my stuff,” I asked Sandra like she had the answers and like clockwork Keith started calling my phone back to back, text messages from my aunt and cousins all at once. Was this a coincidence I thought to myself, nah couldn’t be. I called 911, and Keith kept calling even while the police were there and once they came they were successful in having Trent call his daughter to bring my stuff back and after asking Sandra if she wanted to come I left crying, defeated with Keith still calling every couple minutes laughing at me, laughing at the loss of my mom, laughing at my pain, “you need some help,” he said laughing through the phone (this was the first I had heard from him since my mom had passed), everyone laughing, everyone is laughing, I thought as I walked in the dark, knowing that my bestfriend was gone, my bestfriend was my mom!

“As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you; and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem.” Isaiah 66:13

Continue reading My Bestfriend Was My Mom, Pt. 1: To Cope Was To Die! →

“I wanna be Cloister F&#$@d” was the passphrase that I had to answer to join the GroupMe for the sober living house I had been accepted to. I responded “No” and It was at that moment I received my 2nd red flag that this was not going to work. When I asked the President housemate if she had seen that phrase when she joined the GroupMe chat in “October,” her response was “no I never saw that before, but it must have been done before I joined.” Of course, that math wasn’t math-ing but I let that go because what did it matter. The first one was the evident switch of my housemates tone when I questioned my inability to leave my luggage on the porch or behind the house. I was in the car with the couple that were leaders in the church community getting a ride back to where I was floor surfing when I had texted her that I didn’t understand what she was saying, at that point a different housemate called me using the other housemate’s phone. “What don’t you understand” she said with force in her tone.  I guess this was her way of saying hi.  Half nervous, half surprised I said, “I’m in the car right now getting a ride can I call you back?” Once I got to the house I called back and the whole tone had changed up and I was allowed to explain what I didn’t understand at that point and it felt like it was well received or I just wanted to be received I’m not sure.  I don’t think they thought I was going to be able to come when they accepted me, honestly.  It had been close to a week and a half when I initially asked to join Cloister and had been denied from 2 other houses.  So, yeah my money was low but I was able to reach out to the community group after we met on Sunday after church, and share my situation and my urgency for leaving.  They agreed to help which was a blessing.

The whole airport visit was a nightmare.  I called myself trying to get there early but still got there right on time.  Something must have been wrong with the scale because it was now saying my luggage was 20 pounds overweight.  I had to throw more clothes away and what I couldn’t throw away I folded them around my arm, put my teaching bible in another bag and prayed for the best as I watched the airlines worker throw my poor luggage with disdain on to the conveyor belt.  I asked if I could get assistance getting to the plane and have a wheelchair as I was tirrred. 

The lady who would accompany took forever signing me in.  It almost felt as though she was stalling but I very well could have been over stimulated and was.  She kept asking me if I wanted to stop at the bathroom and I politely told her no twice.  I had never had someone so concerned with my bathroom breaks but she could have just been a very concerned person.  I’m so glad I didn’t have to go because after being held up by TSA due to my private area lighting up and having had one of the most intimate searches I have experienced (with the exception of having to squat and cough multiple times in a week in segregation cell where I was only allowed out once every 3-4 days).  By the time I arrived at the gate they were calling for anyone who needed extra time or those with disabilities to join.  I thanked the lady for assisting me to the plane and boarded early to find I was seated all the way in the back up against the bathroom.  It was a window seat but when I tell you I smelled so much gas back there it was crazy.  I know I have the smelling sense of a K-9 but this was something different.  It was like gas was leaking in from under my seat or something.  We stayed on the tarmac waiting for what the pilot said was “last minute fueling” meanwhile I felt like I was the one getting gassed and not the plane.  To top it off everyone that used the bathroom that I was up against seemed to slam something in the bathroom. 

When I say the whole ride including the hour and a half wait on the tarmac I heard bang, bang, bang, every time someone went to the bathroom.  I didn’t have to use the bathroom but I had to go see where was that sound coming from.  I even tried to slam the door when I entered the bathroom and that wasn’t it.  As I scanned the bathroom I looked at the baby changing table and opened it and closed it, and that was it.  So everyone who used the bathroom on my side was opening and slamming the baby changing table but they didn’t have babies!  Was this intentional, maybe, was I sensitive yes!  By the time we made it to Dallas I had one of the worse headaches of my life and I could barely walk straight as my chest remained tight and my eye was twitching again.  I mean I was struggling trying to off the plane.  In addition, I had been told that I had until 4 to make it to the house because there needed to be 2 people there so that they could let me in. I was so thankful they kept track of requests for help and had a wheelchair waiting for me.  I gladly plopped into the chair and held tight to my bags.  She quickly took me to luggage claim which made me even more grateful I had asked for assistance because I would not have gotten there that fast on my own.  It was odd because my 2 suitcases were in completely different locations and later on it made sense as they had went through my luggage as well.  I gathered my luggage and sat to the side so that I could put the stuff back in that I had to take out and to text the housemate:

Monday March 2 Text Interaction via Phone
Me (2:46pm PST):
It looks like I’m coming in the morning.  I will text after my life coaching meeting at 3 or once they send details
Housemate #1 (4:47pm CST)
What time is it there
Me:
Almost 3
Housemate #1:
Ok so we should know something in a few hours?
Me:
Yes if not sooner.  Looking at a flight in the am
Housemate #1:
Ok
Me:
Hi, I will arrive at 1pm tomorrow
Housemate #1:
At the airport
Me:
Yes and I will look up the direction from there?
Housemate #1 (7pm PST):
We are looking forward to seeing you.  As of now the earliest we can get you moved in is 7pm, can you wait at the airport for a few hours before coming to the house?
Me:
Can ya’ll pick me up?  I don’t think I want to wait in the baggage claim area for 6 hours. Is there a library around y’all.  Yea I will go to the closest library to yall location and wait there.
Housemate #1:
I don’t have a car or I would come get you and the other girls will be at work til late.
Me:
Ok so the soonest anyone will be at the house is 7pm. I think the library will be closed before that so I will just be chilling outside until someone comes
Housemate #?
I’ll be home but the girls won’t be and Housemate #3 will be home by 7pm I’m waiting to hear from our newest girl so then you can come sooner than 7.  I should know by 8pm tonight.
Me:
Ok cool, is there public transportation?
Housemate #?:
Yes
Me:
Cool, is there a way I’m able to put my luggage behind the house so that I don’t have to carry it with me all day?
Housemate #?
I check for you, we need 2 people to be here for to do that and I will be the only one here so we’re so we’re not able to do that.  We’re excited to meet you.
Me:
I’m just gonna put my stuff by the front door and then go find a meeting, ok? Because it says I actually arrive at 12:30 and I can’t push around those bags for 7 hours.
Housemate #?:
I’m sorry but you can’t be on the property unless 2 people are inside the house and the earliest time 2 people will be available tomorrow is at 7pm.  Sorry for the inconvenience.
Me:
I’m gonna call you when I can because I don’t understand
Tuesday March 3:
Me: Emoji of an airplane taking off sent (6:09am PST)
Housemate #1: Yay (8:24pm CST)
Me (1:30pm CST):
Just landed.  Headed that way to drop off my bags then to go find a meeting and to the library.
Housemate #?
Are you taking the bus?
Me:
Yea, or whatever connection I’m able to.  I will get there before 4.  I had to get extra patted down I guess for not wearing underwear… lol  Anyways it’s not he first time I’ve been mishandled at the airport. Lol  Long story short I’m about to look
Housemate #?:
Ok
Me:
It took the plane an hour and a half to take off.  It says I get there at 3:55pm  But it costs like $60 to get there via Lyft, so I’m a take a bus half way there then take a Lyft the rest of the way.
Housemate #?:
Ok, are you still arriving at 3:55
Me:
Before that
Housemate #? (3:07pm CST):
What time
Me:
OMW, eta 20 minutes
Housemate #?:
No good news Housemate #3 just arrived from work so you can come in we will UA first thing then I’ll go over everything with you.
Me:
That’s what’s up
Housemate #? (3:18pm CST)
Just in time lol because she has to leave again
Me (3:20pm CST):
Tell her thank you
The traffic is getting in the way.  Now it’s sayine eta 20 minutes again.  The driver was just sitting a block away for 20 minutes.. lol
Housemate#?:
Well if you get here before she leaves then you can come in.
Me:
When is she leaving?
Housemate #?:
IDK
Me:
I will just leave my stuff outside if I have to.  It’s all good.
Housemate #?:
I’ll let you know through text if she leaves
Me:
It’s ok. I will just leave my stuff outside and walk.  I’m a big girl I will survive.
Housemate #?
I know but if she is still here I want you to get in
Me (3:25pm CST):
K
Housemate #? (3:43pm CST):
It will be 7pm, I’m sorry
Housemate #? (3:48pm)
How far are you
It’s too late
End of  Text Messages for that day

Once I had texted them about my eta, I did my best to quicken my step as I looked at the time and made my way outside to find the train.  I knew I had walked outside the airport too soon once the Dallas heat begin to hit me, and I was practically dragging my bags for what felt like miles under a covered area adjacent to the airport before I was able to make my way to the train.  I had thought of calling a Lyft but it was almost a hundred dollars and the community group leaders only gave me $50 for the Lyft to the airport and it wasn’t enough.  I tried to ask someone which direction I should go and they were just as clueless as I was at that point.  However, the train conductor happened to be taking a break and he suggested I get on the train and get off at the next station and the Lyft wouldn’t be so much.  I got on the train and welcomed the cool air and a chance to rest my feet.  For a moment I felt good and hopeful to be back in Dallas for what seemed like it could be a new start.  Instead of getting off at the very next stop I let a few stops go by and randomly got off at a hotel/outdoor convention hall. 

I took my luggage to one of the outside tables they had for their event and walked over to the statues that seemed to be drawing me to them.  Oh this was a site to see, the closer I got to the statues it was as if the noise from the traffic surrounding the outdoor convention center got louder and with every step I could hear the roaring of cars fill me with what I can only describe as electricity.  It’s like the noise was cheering me on which is completely the opposite effect that car revving normally gives me.  It was the Grapevine Prairie Peace and Friendship Circle of 1843, dedicated in 2021 and I was in Grapevine Texas! (https://www.grapevinetexasusa.com/grapevine-main-station/peace-circle/). As the revving continued to charge my body with energy, I moved closer and I immediately was drawn to a statue that revealed itself to be one of the Caddo Peoples, Chief Red Bear.  Chief Red Bear “was among the “Kadohadacho” elders/leaders spearheading the movement to unite the Caddo peoples as they were pushed out and displaced from their lands.  According to the website for the Peace Circle it says that Chief Red Bear was  “determined to lay down the hatchet against all white and red men and seek a country of peace.”  In addition, the Caddo people were known to be “fierce warriors that were skilled in fighting, bow making, and trading.” A powerful people caught in the cross hairs of the struggle for territory between “Texas, Mexico, and the Comanches,” that originated from what is now called “East Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Oklahoma.”
Oh “this was good stuff” I said to myself as I moved to the 2nd statue of 11: Biloxi Chief Hoyo Tubby, who met with President Houston and signed the treaty at Bird’s Fort in 1843.  While the treaty was one of few that was initially honored by the Republic of  Texas Senate, according to the website, like many Treaty’s that were forced on Indigenous populations they were later violated.  Unfortunately it only took “16 years” before the Treaty at Bird’s Fort, designed to represent “peace and friendship” to be broken and plagued with inequitable harms like 2 justice systems that allowed white men to kill with little or no punishment while Indigenous were given death sentences for crimes against white men; and forced removals from their Texas homelands to reservations in Oklahoma.  While a selective few of the Biloxi peoples remained in what is now called “Bell County” they were eventually forced to join with other nations like the Seminoles to remain on their lands, however they eventually collapsed under pressure from the white man and their weapon of destruction and genocide, colonialism. For the purposes of this article, I won’t go in depth about each Indigenous leader represented in the Grapevine Peace Circle, however it is important for the readers to know that each Nation represented is just as important as the 2 described above.  All the stories are similar in that they trusted the wrong people, signed documents that outlined rules that were intentionally meant to be broken, given poison and disease in the guise of the white man’s comfort and ease, compelled to fight for what was theirs, and pitted against, or forced to join other Indigenous tribes in order to remain on their lands, and to their detriment banished to reservations as the white men deemed them savages and unworthy of what is rightfully theirs. Nations Represented at the Grapevine Peace Circle:

Cherokee Captain Chicken Trotter
Chicksaw Captain Ishteukatubby or Ishtayakaat abi
Waco Chief Acahquash
Anadarko Chief Jose Maria or Iesh
Keechi Chief Kateahtick or Kottanteek
Caddo Chief Red Bear
Biloxi Chief Hoyo Tubby
Delaware Chief Roasting Ear or Pacondalinquaing
Tawakoni Chief Kechikaroqua
Chief Towaash: The Inoni Peoples
Republic of Texas President

I implore you as the reader to do your research on each Nation represented here and throughout what we know as America. What should be noted, is that today we live in a land that is big on “land acknowledgments” in fact you can find websites that will break down whose land you’re on, and where those people are today.  With whole months dedicated to a people in remembrance of the contributions made, of those that have built the society that so many reap the fruits from except the descendants of those people who built it.  And with all those acknowledgments and dedications no reparation has or ever will be given because if it was our society as we know it, as the privileged know it, would collapse because they would have scraps comparable to nothing and they just can’t have that, they just can’t have what we have that would be a human rights wrong made right, but a crime to the color white, a white collar crime.
After taking what photos I could I grabbed my luggage and walked to the hotel to call my Lyft.  Once I ordered it I noticed that the car was just sitting in one spot for what seemed like 20 minutes.  I sent a message asking the driver to cancel the ride if he didn’t want to come.  As I did so the car began to move.  After a while a Lyft arrived and of course we ran into traffic.  My nerves were on end because I was trying to make it to the house before the other housemate left.  They were nice enough to change their minds and allow me to put my stuff on the porch, but I was tired and wanted to rest.  As we pulled into the driveway I received the final text saying that the other house mate left.  I had stopped texting because it was causing me too much anxiety trying to get there in time.  I got out the car and knocked on the door and it took about a minute or 2 for them to come to the door.  Hi I said I’m sorry about all that, the plane was late and the driver was just sitting there and then we ran into traffic.  No problem you’re here now let’s give you a UA.  I pushed my luggage into the entry way and went into the bathroom where I was handed a UA cup with a plastic sticker around it.  It seemed like the sticker had been removed and put back on as it was kind of lose and had more indentations then it should’ve but I’m no urinalysis agent.  I was told that they both had to watch me go to the bathroom, which seemed strange.  I mean it seemed strange to have one person watch me but 2?  I hurriedly went to the bathroom and immediately Housemate #3 said “it’s positive for Benzos” I responded what, do you mean I’m not on any medication and I haven’t taken any pills.  She hurriedly snapped the picture and as she turned around stated she was going to her room.  I was left with the other roommate as I begin to panic as thoughts filled my mind that I would not have a place to stay and be forced into a houseless shelter in Dallas again.  Housemate #1 said it’s ok I think you still passed the line was faint.  I didn’t understand however I responded that I wanted to take another one but she said that wasn’t necessary.  I don’t think I seen Housemate #3 even leave like she said she was while I was rushing to get there but that’s neither here nor there. 

I was tired so I was fine with Housemate #1 going over the rules and regulations as she had stated needed to be done before settling in.  We sat down at the kitchen table and she began to read me the packet.  I could feel myself dozing off from the days journey and I asked if I could just read it out loud.  She said ok and I began to read and sign and she stated it was ok if I did the rest later.  She showed me my room which I was getting a double bed with a bathroom. Wow what did I do to deserve this big room with my own bathroom and everyone else had to share (red flag # I don’t know) I quickly noticed what looked like mold and rust in the fan that didn’t work in the bathroom.  I said something but didn’t go into depth because I needed a place to stay and I could see me mentioning it made her uncomfortable.
She then showed me my space for my dry foods and then took me into the garage where the 3rd refrigerator was located.  There was just enough space for me to get to the refrigerator and a small pathway cleared out to get to the garage door and that was it.  The rest was piled with boxes and clothes and what looked like everyone who had once lived here’s memories.  It was stuffy and above the refrigerator there loomed a big gap in the ceiling with what looked like a broken fan.  That’s the best way that I can describe it. I opened the refrigerator to see a bunch of empty to half empty containers of modly food that I was told was Housemate #2’s stuff.  I asked if I could clean it out and she said to leave it for Housemate #2 to do.  We quickly walked back into the kitchen area and I was given the ok to settle in.  She sent me the invite to join their GroupMe and with that invite I was given a question in the form of a phrase “I wanna be Cloister fu$%#d”  I typed in No, but it didn’t go through and so she said she would ask one of the other housemates and would re-send it later. She acted surprised to see that and said she didn’t have that experience when she joined the GroupMe.  This was the one of the many uncomfortable moments at Cloister House. There was me asking if there was any shared food to which Housemate #1 stated “no.”  Out of hunger I asked where was the closest store and she stated Albertsons.  She said she could walk it in around “20 minutes,” and she quickly went out the door while on the phone right after that.  I thought to myself what is up with everyone’s abrupt leaving but my hunger called my attention so I went ahead and googled it and went about my journey to the store. 

Of course, I forgot that there aren’t many sidewalks in Texas and the sidewalks where there were some were narrow as a pirate ship walking plank or a circus tight rope.  When I tell you I could feel the breeze of the cars going by as I tried to navigate the narrow path and the emanating presence of the thousand pound machines right next to my body indicating that that with one wrong move I could very well be splatted on the street because it wasn’t enough room for me on the sidewalk.  The walk was nice once I got to the residential portion of it.  The streets were sprawled with what looked like little mansions.  I got to Alberstons and headed for the deli to get some quick food to eat.  Once I got back to the house Housemate #1 was back and looked at me stating that I “looked tired” I responded I’m not tired I’m hungry even though I was tired and hungry but how dare she say I looked tired, tf.  I asked her if I could use her salt and pepper to which she went and grabbed it out of a cabinet that Housemate #4 later told me was the shared cabinet, that and one other cabinet and 2 shelves.  Go figure that, I could’ve gotten food here had I known that.  I didn’t address it because I was just thankful to be in a place. For 11 days I experienced micro-aggressions, gas lighting, and less than respectful communication via GroupMe.  This included being micro-managed about cleaning dishes that I was told they didn’t even know was here.  This included being ignored when I stated I needed an accommodation, or asked about a shared item in the house, lack of communication about men being in the house, or having left the house, lies about there being shared food, asked about if I touched the computer, having the wifi turned off on me while I was watching the tv, asked about eating chips that had mysteriously migrated to the shared shelf.  And then once I shared about my disability then there began to be the excessive spraying of perfumes then the spraying of perfumes in the vents that no one either answered or they just didn’t know.  The turning off of fans with the response “I’m too short to reach it” however it’s turned on by 2 light switches on the wall. I was told that my Mp3 player was too loud in my room even though it just sounded like someone with there door closed watching television at a low volume. 
Quiet time hours were from 10pm to 8am but it seemed like everyone else didn’t have to obey that rule as they were loud, stomping talking until they were tired.  Again, I was just thankful to have a place, so I didn’t say anything until the first house meeting where I was confronted with being “passive aggressive.” Then it was downplayed and dismissed after I apologized for doing the things that they said I did, but they actually did.  All this and some was done but I just let it go.  People are gonna be people and “we fight not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and things that slither in the night,” right?

I just prayed and got up every day and went to libraries, applied for jobs, went to meetings, went to church and bible study, and went to go workout.  I just did my best to get myself together.  But it seemed like it wasn’t enough.  If I asked about a shared item for the house it was ignored and I would have to ask again and then I would be reprimanded for using too much of that item, to which I would apologize and restate that I would buy more once I gained employment.   I began to notice that when I would say something to one housemate immediately all the other housemates would join in.  Even on GroupMe but I wouldn’t say anything until yesterday when I asked a Housemate if she could wait to wash her 2nd load in the morning because it was quiet time.  It had to be 11:30 pm.  One housemate answered the question and then another one, everyone except the person I asked.  I then asked if she could respond and she finally responded “no.” The conversation went downhill quick.  It basically ended with me being told I could go to some shelter called the “24 hour club” if I didn’t like the way they responded all because I asked if a rule could be followed.  Mind you my environmental flare up was on 10.  It had been since I got off the plane, honestly.  I had been asking the church leaders, who for the record had already did enough in helping me get here, if I could get help with a air purifier and at that point I was asked why.  To which I responded that I had a Dr.s note essentially prescribing it.  They said they would ask the community group and the church as a whole but I was told that things were moving slowly, and they hadn’t received a response. With the heat from the dryer and the repetitive spraying of perfume, my heart was pounding.  I mean it felt like I was inverted on a roller coaster.  So I got up and began to move my body.  I went into the bathroom to the window to try and get some fresh air and it wasn’t enough, so I put on my clothes and went outside.  With my music I began to move my body to shake off the trauma and to warm up.  I stayed outside for about 3-4 hours until I felt some relief.  Mind you every time I was outside, I would get what felt like gassed by cars that either didn’t have emissions done in a while or something.  It was very debilitating and coupling that with the spurts of 60 degree cold air blowing out of the vents in the house next to the ceiling out of nowhere I couldn’t catch a break.  My body was absorbing so much that I sprayed the Dawn dishwashing spray on a dish and immediately went into a coughing fit. Back to the present moment, I came in the house around 4am and tried to lay down and I couldn’t go to sleep. 

My body was twitching, my lungs felt like they had a stack of books on top of them and my head hurt to name a few symptoms.  Once it was 8am, I got out of the bed and begin to call the welfare office so that I could get Medicaid so I could go to the hospital. While I was on the phone I let the GroupMe chat know that I had reported what had been done to me and that was returned with a reminder of my behavior of leaving the door open to get fresh air and being late to my first and only weekly meeting. I apologized again for both instances and then I was told there would be an emergency meeting that night.  I responded that I was going to the hospital and I wouldn’t be able to respond for awhile however I would attend once I got out the hospital.  Yes, I had finally reached the pain threshold where I was willing to put aside everything that had been happening to me, all my fears of being at the hospital and go by myself.  I had asked multiple people to come with me recently, but no one would.  I tried to get the case management here again, but by the time I got to Dallas they had removed me completely from the wait list even though they were supposed to put me at the bottom of the waitlist.  Thank God I was able to speak to a higher up and explain that I wasn’t challenging their waitlist policy like she indicated, I was challenging the fact that I couldn’t get case management anywhere and I couldn’t get down here to get the case management when I was on the top of the waitlist, and I had been told that I was going back on the waitlist.  She said that it could be the end of the month before I could get help. Back to that moment, I waited on hold, and went online and tried to apply for Medicaid but the system couldn’t verify the truth about who I was so I was kicked off  with know explanation and once I called I was told I needed to come in, in order to apply.  So I just went to the emergency room with the hopes that DHS would be able to backpay them.
At the ER they got me right in and ran multiple tests to make sure it wasn’t blood clots but that test came back inconclusive however the Dr said she was able to see that I didn’t have massive blood clots.  In hindsight I should’ve asked do you see little ones?  It was so painful I was told even though I didn’t move the anxiety or pain I felt caused the test to not come back correct.  Well, I googled it and that’s not what AI or google said but who am I to question the technician.  I was able to get my steroids, and my headache and left lung pain had subsided significantly.  Then this random lady walked in my room stating “what are you doing?”  I responded half shocked and amused “waiting for the Dr.”  Pointing at the wall she said “why did you do that”  I looked at the wall to see a open cable box that had apparently become dislodged from the wall.  My response was “I didn’t do that,” She said “well it wasn’t like that when you got here,” and turned around and walked off.  I smiled and shook my head, nope not falling for that, I said to myself.  Right after that what looked like a medical assistant came over to the room next to me and I asked him what her name was as she was seated about 2 long desks from where my room was. 

His response was that he could not give me her name, but I could ask for the charge nurse.  I stated I didn’t want to do all that I just wanted her name.  So when my nurse came in I asked her what her name was and that’s when she told me that she was the receptionist, and she had told her that “I think I upset your patient.” Laughing I said she thinks, who wants to be accused of jumping up and pulling something down from the wall.  She intentionally did that to get a rise but it’s ok.  I was discharged with prescriptions that I didn’t have the money nor the insurance to fill but at least I have them.  I asked for non-narcotic anxiety meds and the Dr. happily gave them to me and gave me some at the hospital which helped my mood a little bit.  I walked back home but stopped at the store to get some food to eat.  I warmed them up and then sat on the couch trying to watch tv.  I was so tired I noticed myself falling asleep, so I went to my bed and as soon as I fell asleep or shortly after I heard the housemates come in or open the door, I’m not sure.  Then I heard “man in the house” and I was like really; she is bringing her boyfriend for the emergency meeting.  Then I heard another knock followed by another “man in the house.” I then got on the GroupMe and asked if we were still having the meeting because all I could here was cheer and little bits of laughter.  No one responded to the GroupMe, so I asked again citing “that I still wasn’t feeling all the way well and I was tired and I wanted to know if we were still having the meeting?” That’s when one of the Housemates came to my door stating that the “meeting was mandatory.”  So I pushed myself out of the bed to see a table full of people and a dining room full of vapor smoke.  I was asked to sit down to which I declined.  I asked why there were so many people here in total 5 extra people to which I was told they were asked to be here.  They then begin to say how I had been disruptive and had not taken accountability for this or for that.  I was so taken aback by this but remained calm in an attempt to plea my case.  They begin to bring up old things and when I would make a point then another person would weigh in on what was considered my disruptive behavior.  I was then told that I’m just repeating myself but to that point I said well I’m having to explain it to 3 people so maybe that’s why you are hearing it multiple times.  Finally, the housemate that gave me the faulty UA slammed down the pen and began to yell at me and followed it with a motion to expel me to which they all quickly agreed.  Then they started laughing and went outside to celebrate while the additional 5 people said they had a space for me to go to as I was only given an “hour” to get my things and vacate the premises.

My response of course was shock and fear.  I didn’t want to go to a house that was so readily to accept someone who was labeled as being disruptive without an interview.  I was told that they needed help and I could potentially get a job if I went to that house.  In my mind I was like they were trying to put me out yesterday and clearly all of y’all were on board because y’all already have a house for me to go to even though I was told because I didn’t sit there like a good girl (I’m paraphrasing it) then that’s why I was being expelled.  I explained that I hadn’t did any of the things that would warrant expulsion therefore, I shouldn’t have to leave let alone pack up my stuff in a hour and go in the middle of the night.  Then they all came back in from celebrating my expulsion in the back yard and once they heard that I wasn’t leaving that this was unfair they begin to yell “get the fu&% out bi%$#,  I mean they were doing everything that would warrant an expulsion in front of leadership and they just sat there watching it.  A man and a girl got up and left leaving an X resident of the house who was close with one of the house mates and a man and a woman who were clearly on there side.  I asked them to stop yelling and they began to charge at me like they wanted to fight.  They called me psycho, schizophrenic, talked about my faith saying “the devil is gonna love me” calling me cunts all the while I was told that I need to get out.  I remained steadfast asking them to not yell at me and I begin to raise my voice but I didn’t once call them out their name with the exception of calling one of them a Karyn.  I also stated that they wouldn’t be acting the way they were if we were on the street and one of the sober house leaders man had taken it upon himself to tell them that he was there to “watch me.”  He then went on to say that “this always happens to me so I have to be the problem” (paraphrasing).  I was like I don’t even know you but clearly you know me and when I tried to ask him on camera, he switched that all the way up and denied it.  The housemates as well but eventually they couldn’t help themselves and they still began to cuss me out even when I was filming them.  They then would have moments when they would calm down and even called the police on me.  Then she went outside and turned the power off to the whole house.  I mean the privilege was privileging.  All the while my pleas for respect and for them to not talk about me were met with laughter and taunts and words like “stupid cu&t” and saying only the ones who video tape are doing things wrong etc.  I just continued to stay in the living room because the last thing I wanted to do was wake up to police standing over me.  It must have taken at least 2-3 hours for them to show up and when they did I opened the door.  They went and took everyone’s statement except the person who called them unless they did it outside and allowed her to go back to her room.  They addressed the Sober living Officer (there words not mine) who said that this was a “democratically ran house” and they had the right to put me out.  But after viewing my videos of them doing what they had done to me they agreed that everything they were saying I did, they in fact did and that the landlord would have to take me to court as I resided here and had paid my non-refundable deposit.  Side note, they were sahing that I would leave here owing $250 and have to pay another house the non-refundable deposit.  Talk about attempting to put me in a pit. 

Eventually they agreed that this house was not a democracy (in my opinion) and they couldn’t put me out that it would have to be the landlord who would have to file a civil complaint and then they left taking the sober living officer left with them, who was supposed to be impartial but wasn’t based off of his treatment of me.  In spite of that, I told him that I would call him in the morning and think about going to interview with the place that had accepted me without an interview.  As I slept or tried to there were about 2-3 hours of dragging and banging that I had heard in the kitchen area.  Then it got so cold I could barely sleep. Once the noise stopped, I got up to see that the temperature was all the way down to 60 degrees.  I couldn’t believe it especially since the air was no longer coming from the vents that had been blowing on me.  The sober living officer begins to call me back-to-back after hearing one of the housemates saying loudly that “she still is here.”  After that I decided that going to that house had to be just a different place for them to do the same thing.  I didn’t answer his calls, however I did text him letting him know that “I didn’t trust him, nor did I feel safe with him” after what he said to me and the other housemates, and that “I needed to rest and I would look for a place as soon as I could and to not text me anymore.”  Only for him to show up an hour later to the door and the housemate let him in and he lays on the couch without saying anything to me. Mind you this is the person that openly said that he would be alright with leaving me with the housemates so that they could “handle me” the way they wanted to.  So, I text him that I don’t feel safe with him here and could he please leave.  He responded “well then leave and go somewhere safe.” So I called the police this time,  and once I got off the phone another new person showed up.  I asked him why he was here and he stated he was the outreach person and that someone else would be coming.  I said I wasn’t in a position to have to rehash everything that happened to me again that I needed to rest, that I had just got out the hospital and had maybe a total of 4 hours asleep in the last 2 nights.  I asked him could he “please call that person and tell them not to come.” He said they were almost here so he couldn’t do it.  So I asked him could he watch the videos of how they were acting and I restated that I didn’t do anything but stand up for myself and after I explained that I had reported there behavior that’s when they told me to leave before the emergency meeting where they tried to expel me. 

While I was talking one of the housemates came up and moved my phone grabbed a paper that he had pulled out unbeknownst to me and put it on my door.  It was a letter to vacate for disruptive behavior and not paying my bill. I removed it asking “how could you let her do something that the police said they couldn’t even do?”  Removing it, I went back to trying to get him to watch what they had done to me when a lady came in saying she worked for the sober living house.  I tried to get her to watch it and her response was that she heard everyone going back and forth and she “didn’t need to watch it in it’s entirety to know what happened. She originally said she didn’t’ need to watch it, I quickly said yes she does and the more they both listened they begin to understand or I thought so.  There point was that I had mentioned something about race being a factor and I could go to this other house where there were people my same race.  But one doesn’t negate the other just because it’s white privilege happening here doesn’t mean when I go to that place just because they are Black they are going to accept me.  I said they should look into what a democracy is and what a autocracy is.  I was then told that they wanted to work with the housemates here so that they don’t do it to someone else again but me I needed to go where I was accepted to which I agreed but at this time I don’t have that place.  I needed time which is what I told the housemates even before they had tried to expel me…
They both left with my understanding that they “were going to do something” but would have to decide and that “I needed to do what I needed to do” in the meantime.  So what did I do.  I cried and I wrote, and I wrote and I cried, and when the housemate started trying to talk to me through the ring door, and tried to give me another notice vacate, I just ignored it.  When the house that they tried to send me to started calling me and refused to let me know who gave them my number, I remained polite.  And the next day when the Chapter Outreach person finally responded to my text and calls with resources I called him and he didn’t answer.  So I left a message and texted him.  Once I got him on the phone I asked him did he talk to the housemates and his response was totally different than what he actually said to me before he left the day before. When I tried to restate the fact that I was being put out for things that are documented that they did to me he said he has no control over that and he was just giving me resources.  Then a new person got on the phone (a woman) and she basically reiterated what he said.  I thanked them for the resources and asked could I speak to someone above the officer because the officer was a part of the harassment and wrongful eviction.  She said she would try to connect me with a regional officer.  And a few moments later the chapter outreach worker sent me a phone number.  With my threshold being short I responded that I would call him Monday but could he speak to the housemates and have them stop harassing me.  He still hasn’t responded because I guess to him this is legal.
So, I guess the point of it all was to Cloister fu%$ me and they outright asked me from jump.  But the God that I serve won’t have that, the God that I serve, that they talked about while trying to emotionally break me down, and try to fight me as a way to make me leave, still loves me and them.  I’m praying for us all!
Nehemiah 9:16-17 (KJV, Bible I was given while in Wise County jail)
“But they and our fathers dealt proudly and hardened their necks, and hearkened not to thy commandments and refused to obey, neither were mindful of thy wonders and thou didst among them; but hardened their necks and in their rebellion appointed a captain to return to their bondage: but thou art a God ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and forsookest them not.”

JDPBS4God4LifeWAMIGITYJ Amen

Heal or Jail, Write or Die….a survivor’s memoir in pursuit of the healing society said she needed: From where everything stays to where everything is bigger, Ep.2

Thoughts From The Present:

‘Hindsight is always 20×20” isn’t that the saying.  Well, I saw this coming, but if God is leading me how can I fail even if I fail (if you know, you know).  I can’t explain how I feel but I know that I have to write because I feel like I’m dying (still). Within the past 2 weeks I’ve had 2 lawyers in different states, for different cases try to abandon my case after they messed up trivial things like the time I was supposed to show up for court, or disclosing things to others that they wouldn’t share with me (what!).  For the 2nd time I got on a plane and had TSA agents flag me for my private area showing something there.  How embarrassing I felt as she walked away to handle something else leaving the screen wide open for everyone who walked by to see that my private area was lighting up.  She came back shortly thereafter to thoroughly pat me down, like she felt up and down my thighs on my tight pants I felt like I was being groped excessively.  My response was to say I hadn’t been touched like that in a long time, Jokingly I said I didn’t know if I should get her number after having her do that to me.  She said it was inappropriate for me to say that but what I want to know is how did that flag and I wasn’t even wearing underwear and how does that happen two times out of 3 plane rides?
2 days in the house where I’m staying and they already are at me, trying to get reactions out of me, testing my ability to handle conflict.  I was given a faulty UA when I got there, and when I asked for another one she just walked away and said, “it’s fine.” Leaving me there to just take it.  I even tried to go and buy one but was told not to. Umm you and another housemate got to watch me go to the bathroom like I’m on parole and then I’m told I have benzos by this test that has a faint line.  What!  I haven’t had any meds or pills off the street so where did that come from the edibles from the dispensary?  That’s a possibility but unlikely. I wasn’t told about shared food by the person who was letting me know about the house (I even asked before I walked 20 minutes to the store for food, but at least she gave me directions on how to get there). But when I returned she sure did tell me I looked tired and my response was that I’m hungry more than anything.  Later I asked her if I could borrow her salt and pepper and her response was to go in the cabinet and let me borrow shared food.  The very next day I asked someone else and she showed me 2 full cabinets and a shelf where shared food was stored.  Then I was accused of doing something to the computer, asked about the tv, asked if I left the house yesterday, and then right after she turned the Wi-Fi off ( I seen her reset the switch) all in one night.  I kindly asked her if she could give me heads up next time and then 2 other housemates who were having their own conversation stopped talking to answer for her blaming it on the lightning and flickering lights, but the lights did not go out and I saw her do it.  Moving forward I woke up with one of the worst headaches I have ever had and still have.  My hands are shaking even after being outside for awhile.  Anyways I messaged the house mates on Group Me asking if I could stay in because I didn’t feel well.  The response was to remind me about my Mp3 player playing church music after 8am. Which is during the time where you are allowed to watch tv etc. because “people work different hours” and I should close my door or wear headphones even if its ouside of quit time. It just seems like it is never ending.  It’s like when I’m around people they either give off ingenuine vibes or are blatant with their disdain for me.  It’s exhausting managing my mental health after having endured everything I have but when the disrespect is blatant, it’s validating because I know I’m not crazy, for example:
I went to the library yesterday and was standing outside when this random man told me, “to get out of here.”  He then came in the library and came towards me cupped his hands around his mouth and coughed directly on me while the other people in the library just smiled and smirked.  Well, with the exception of one person, who looked at me and displayed flickering empathy. I don’t know what I did, I don’t know why God chose me to endure this.  Right now, it seems like I just attract hate, conflict, and backlash, and no matter how humble, how gentle, how honest I am that is what I have receive, it is what I have to endure. Again, I know I should go to the Dr. but I’m afraid and the following story is a part of the reason why.  Nonetheless, I know I serve a good God and if he says I’m up for the challenge then so be it! With that being said I don’t want you to just feel my pain, I want you to enjoy it!

8/14/25 Journal Entry:
Bible: Jeremiah 36:1-7
“Take a scroll and write on it all the words I have spoken to you concerning Israel, Juday and all the other nations from the time I began speaking to you in the reign of Josiah till now perhaps when the people of Judah hear about every disaster I plan to inflict on them they will each turn from there wicked ways then I will forgive their wickedness and their sin so Jeremiah call Baruch Son of Neriah and while Jeremiah dictated all the words the Lord had spoken to him Baruch wrote them on the scroll, then Jeremiah told Baruch I am restricted, I am not allowed to go to the Lord’s temple so you go to the house of the Lord on a day of fasting and read to the people from the scroll the words of the Lord that you wrote as I dictated.  Read them to all the people of Judah who come in from their towns perhaps they will bring their petition before the Lord and will each turn from their wicked ways for the anger and wrath pronounced against this people by the Lord are great.”

Journal Entry from Where everything stays:
“Shortly later that day after sitting outside in a chair under a tree next to Dawn’s office I got really tired and even fell asleep.  Little did I know they were having a staff meeting right inside where they had decided I was making everyone feel unsafe because after being threatened then attacked physically and verbally I went to my room and went in the closet and began to scream that I wanted my momma after being prevented from attending a meeting that discussed what happened to me and how I was ignored that they said I would be able to because they felt I was too escalated but instead I needed to go to church.  I didn’t want to go to church, if I couldn’t have the meeting why would I go outside of the house around strangers if I’m too escalated.  Granted the young woman who said I “was shaped like a bag of potatoes, and was “withdrawing from crack” was funny it still hurt though after everything I had been through.  She followed that with stating “I shouldn’t be selling myself at 47 years old” and she was right, like I totally agree about that.” 
Me (8/15/25):
They decided that I was unsafe and I was asked to leave.  They called the other executive director who brought another lady with her and we sat outside where I had just fallen asleep and I was asked if I wanted to go to one of the houseless shelters or drug rehab.  She said she didn’t think I was unsafe like they were claiming so she agreed to send me to their sister organization where it’s bigger.  I was told that my flight was at 3 the next day so I planned to get up in the morning and get myself ready and pack again.  I begin to wash clothes but that was interrupted as the washer or the dryer started acting up so it took a little longer than expected.  When I went to go to get my clothes out of the dryer I found dryer sheets in there which I had spoken openly about my sensitivity to them.  I also was told at the last minute that I would need to be ready at 3am so here I was up at 12:30 rushing trying to pack my stuff.  I asked the staff who had been on shift for a few hours if I could have my file that stated what happened to me.  She stated that she didn’t have access to that and would reach out to the ED to get that.  I asked her could she call her. She said would text but was not going to call her.  I believe she said she would send that to me since I was going to a sister organization.  When I tell you I was up packing until the last minute I couldn’t fit everything back in my suitcases.  I was promised that they would send the rest of my stuff via mail.  So I left my daughters spare key, my deceased moms clothing, and my N95 masks for my environmental disability along with other items that were irreplaceable. I left them because I was promised that my items along with my file would be given to me.

Journal Entry 8/16/26 from where everything is bigger:

Dear heavenly father, the son and the holy spirit, the mother earth that you created, my ancestors whom you created, on whom’s shoulders I stand, in the bible, in my bloodline and chosen.  Thank you for always turning things around for your glory, even if it doesn’t feel glorious.  Thank you for waking us up, thank you for your protection, correction, provision, direction, and salvation.  I made it to where everything is bigger and it’s a beautiful house there are 2 residents here and after the weirdest flight ever (and I mean ever) where they made us wait at the gate for close to 10 minutes if not longer because of the young lady who was with me’s ID. (that was weird because why didn’t she just stay there and let me through because I had a passport and there wasn’t any problem with my ID)  Anyways they had 2 separate people that they had to call to come view her ID.  Loud-ass alarms were blaring the whole time.  Like I had never ever heard that kind of alarm at a airport and according to her she had never either.  As we went through the metal detectors or whatever TSA has my private area lit up as an indicator that something was there.  The TSA agent said that they had to pat me down and I had to take my shoes off and put them through a different scanner.  I looked at the screen and all I could do was laugh as my crotch was lit up bright red.  TSA agent was laughing and I could say was thank you Jesus, because you are so good!  Right when I got through I was given my phone back and I texted my youngest daughter and she called right back.  She didn’t quite sound like herself, she said she was alone but I don’t know if I believed her.  She said she hadn’t seen my oldest daughter but she was around her dude.  That was weird to me because why and how and that wasn’t like my daughter.  (I haven’t spoken to her since and I’m afraid for her) but I was so happy to hear from her it didn’t matter.  She said they let her cremate my mom but when I had called last I was told by the crematorium that they would “wait for me” to be able to get an autopsy but I didn’t press it.  I mean alarms were going off at the airport, and I had just been laughed at and groped (I had on underwear that time..lol), and it was just a lot.  I feel like I have brought things on my family for trying to do the right thing for me, but I also know we are generationally blessed and no weapons formed against us will prosper!  I’m sad about leaving where it stays, I’m sad that they called me a “witch” when I believe in Jesus and any gifts I have come from God, The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit. They laughed at my sorrow, my experience, my phobias everything they could.  Is it because of the anointing on our lives, is it because someone has been doing things in my name, is it because I made a mistakes, is it because I’m speaking on my story, is it because we are powerful by the blood of Jesus Christ, I say all the above.

Journal Entry 8/17/25 from where everything is bigger:
Bible; Habbakuk’s Complaint 1-11
My prayer:
“Thank you Father God for your son who died on the cross for waking JDPB up and everyone attached to us, help us to turn to you more and more each day.  Again I call on you for your protection, correction and your provision.  Show up and show out like never before, we need you God to go before us and make a crooked path straight, help us to be slow to anger, slow to speak and quick to forgive.  Thank you for Mother Earth, for my ancestors in the bible, my bloodline and chosen people, thank you for everything that nourishes and feeds us, most importantly help Mother earth she is hurting.”
Thoughts in the Present:
Some of the stuff that happened at where it’s bigger I didn’t write about at the time because how do you keep track.  I know the young lady that picked me up from the airport broke my suitcase zipper (while she was going through my stuff and tried to get me to keep my journals locked up), and didn’t even say anything about it.  I know that once I stated what I had experienced at where everything stays that’s when everyone started getting tight (I even said it to the therapist and she got tight too).  Was I supposed just forget what happened to me, was I supposed to forget how they still refused to mail me my stuff after asking every day and being told that the ED went on vacation and the person that promised me that they would send my stuff they did not have contact information for. Yeah that’s why I write everything down because I do be forgetting.  As I read this journal entry it’s honestly hard to read so I’m going to paraphrase what happened when the verbiage isn’t digestible.
“Yesterday was interesting as I’m finding myself having to be trauma informed when communicating with the staff that is supposed to be trauma informed.” The weekend staff while a lively bunch were very temperamental.  Like when she got mad she started stomping and everything.  “This is crazy, Jesus only you can save me.”

Journal entry 8/18/15 from where everything is bigger:
Dear heavenly Father, yesterday was just as I expected although I prayed things would be different.  I’m waking up having issues swallowing, stomach hurt and a bad headache.  I only have one mask and it’s ran through.  I keep asking for my stuff and I’m told to wait or they can’t get in touch with anyone.  I told them I need my mask and it’s like they don’t care.  My room smells and it’s not like that in everyone else’s room and with their permission I went in there and it didn’t (the staff called me “an investigator” but if I don’t look out for me they sure aren’t).  The water had a smell of feces coming from it. Even the other resident noticed it but none of the staff said anything about it and my self just drinking it because we couldn’t buy food.  I mean it smelled so bad that I had to put a cinnamon stick in my water bottle because the smell lingered and we had a water filter.  Our movements were very much controlled at church or at recovery meetings.  We had to sit where they said sit and not drink their water or coffee, it was weird.  I understand needing to know where we are but stating we couldn’t drink, and making us sit by you specifically under a vent was triggering for me because I can’t be directly under fans etc. due to my disability.

Thoughts From the Present:
I have to stop here, I don’t feel well and it’s hard for me to see the words.  I probably should go to the hospital but I’m scared to go by myself.  God help me. One thing for sure is my mental and physical state has only gotten worse and it feels like I’m being railroaded.

How Breaking My Cycle Almost Broke Me: A tribute to NWSA (Pt. I)


You know the saying “be careful what you ask for,” well I definitely do because I thought that breaking my cycle would be like, hey I’m speaking out about what I have been through, about how I could’ve been better as a person, a child of God, a friend, and most importantly as a parent.  Well it wasn’t that simple.  Who would’ve known that I would cause more harm to those that I love the most, just by sharing my story.  Anyways, I didn’t want to do it alone.  I mean I was a founding member of survivors who were working on bringing light to other survivors at that time (Northwest Survivor Alliance-NWSA) through spotlighting them and their contributions to the work, through policy advocacy etc. But the other members were not melanated so they couldn’t speak directly to what I envisioned.

I mean we even got to the point where (NWSA) we were going to collaborate with allies  to create a training for other survivors so that they would be more equipped to speak and share their stories. (I believe we were granted some money but I never saw a penny) Well that was until I shared what happened to me with them while trying to present in Chicago (the short film Can Oppression Be Liberation, that was supposed to be about the generational impact of the commercial sex trade on Black girls, women, and their communities).

I mean they switched up on me and acted like I did something wrong as I was accosted in this white lady’s house.  Then they (the remaining NWSA founding members) sent me an email saying that I was kicked out of NWSA and that they wanted to give me somewhere around $1000 dollars.  I was like no thank you and they just continued being NWSA until they stopped and an Ally began doing the training that we were (the members of NWSA) supposed to receive money to do.

Before that though I was given an opportunity to speak about Human Trafficking with the Port of Seattle through Business Ending Slavery (BEST for short in Seattle Washington).  My parameters was not to be in the spotlight with any police (because that would endanger my life) and I was told that was fine.  Well the popo being in the picture was thrust on me last minute, I didn’t have the chance to back out, and while I did well in the first conference after having been put through that I totally messed up the final speaking agreement.  I couldn’t get my words out, it was horrible.  All I could think about was how my rights were violated by an Ally that was supposed to be there for me, but instead they used me and discarded me. 

I was even promised by the Social worker who worked with the Port of Seattle that I would have the chance to redeem myself next year but when I reached out she moved to a different position and had no control over that sphere of the business anymore.  So I guess in continuation of what they did the remaining members of NWSA followed suit.  It’s funny how they just be ignoring what they did to me.  Showing up in shared spaces and never acknowledging how they did me.  I forgive them though.

#JDPBPhotography

I loves God’s creations and am blessed to have experienced them.  I pray this for all of God’s children.

#PeaceBeStill #BreakCyclesNotPeople #Jdpb4Life #GenerationalBlessings