I teared up watching The Family that Preys...there was a homeless man named Nick, that would come into the diner and Alfre Woodard would feed, clothe and bathe this man...and it hit my heart so hard...I have such a desire to help those truly in need...you never know what someone has gone through to be in those situations...and so often we are so content to accumulate our own wealth, or hoarde what we have...but God says you shall get what you give, good measured, pressed down and shaken together...I don't have much, but such as I have I offer to those who need it...I remember eating biscuits and syrup for dinner as a child because we didn't have anything else...I recall my father taking me door to door asking for money...the more I can help not to have that memory...the better...it's just so hard to watch others suffer...so many have such a lack of compassion...I know that not every homeless or poor person DESERVES any kind of help....but if you honestly thought about all the chances you've gotten to get it right...how many of those did YOU deserve? If God gave us just what we deserved...most of us would be dead or crazy...*sigh* I know that's all heavy...but my goodness...so many things in movies remind me of things I've encountered in my life...I've thought of writing a book...not sure who would want to buy it...but hey...hmmmmmmm...I feel so heavy with it all...I think I'll begin...at the beginning...a lot of this some of you have heard...but it's on my mind...in my heart...so again...these are my memories...such as they are today...
As a little girl I lived with my mother...happy enough, spoiled...none of my brothers lived with us, so you could say I was an only child...anyway...my mother apparently got sick...I recall going wig shopping...that wig shop is still open down on Michigan Street...I remember her getting a breast removed...and I remember the day my father and stepfather told me she died...I went to school...it didn't seem to mean much to me then...no reaction...I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral...and so I went to live with my father...the man whose name I shared...I no longer saw anyone from my mother's side of the family...he was a drug addict...I remember one night, he had me in the car with him, going to pick up some dope no doubt...and the man tried to stab him...he took me home, and him and my uncle left...I remember living in a duplex, just he and I...funny thing, two doors down lived the current mayor...they still live there...but where we lived, oh, it seemed worlds away...I don't know what my father did...but when he wasn't home I was not allowed to leave the house...that ended up being most of the time...with no cable, all that left me was a radio...and my barbies and paper dolls...and books...you know, a lot of my relatives stay after me about not keeping in contact, or calling, or coming to visit...and I just think to myself...I spent my entire life...alone...in some form or fashion...so it's in my nature to be so closed in...but back to the memories...they are really crowding me right now...we had a willow tree in the back of the house...my father used to soak the switches from that tree in the bath tub at home...I remember one time I had gotten a whoopin...he made me get in the shower directly after...and my brother Fontae, the oldest came by...that's the only time I remember seeing my brothers while I was living with my father...at some point...he took me to Chicago to live...I don't know how old I was, I don't know how long it was...but I remember when we got there we walked for what seemed like forever...and he left me...that man left me there...with people I didn't know...it was a crack house...and there was this woman...she had in the bathroom...and she touched me...and I don't remember the details...but I remember she touched my private parts...and then I remember...one day my uncle...my father's twin came to get me...and I was back in South Bend...but when I got back...I felt so...separate...I didn't feel a PART of my family...there was no love there...none...so...my father was sick too now, about a year after my mother...or two...he was imprisoned...and was sick with leukemia...he died...I lived with my uncle...and my cousin, his daughter...once again, living in a house, where you couldn't go outside, couldn't go around the corner if he wasn't there...and he worked nights, and would be at work when we got out of school...so we were pretty much always at home...rules were...be in your room, or the basement...don't sit on the porch, don't sit in the living room...don't sit in the kitchen...sometimes if we got in trouble he would lock the phone in his room...and when we got whoopins...which felt like it was about just anything...it was a shoe, or a belt, or his hands...and God...we were bitches and hoes and whatever else...I personally never thought we were that bad...we couldn't do anything, so how could we be? But hey...I became so detached...but I could see how it began to affect my cousin...hell, that was her daddy...I can't imagine what it felt like to hear that from your father...I mean...I knew my daddy loved me at least...but anyway...during these times, I was very close to only one person...my uncle Christopher...he was my world...only two years older than me, and he loved me as I loved him...and when I was ten, he got hit my a train...and he died...I cried that whole day...I loved him so...in the mean time...life is what it is...as soon as I was old enough, I started working...had to pay for my own clothes...lived in a house where we weren't allowed to cook really...had freezer dinners, and frozen burritos and whatever else microwaveable...lived pretty poorly...and I still hadn't seen anyone from my mother's side of the family...when my brother Fontae would come by or call, they'd tell them I wasn't there...even though I was...the night of my 8th grade graduation...we saw my brothers afterward by happenstance on the street...they wanted to know why he hadn't called and told them...don't remember that explanation...so anyway, I'm working, going to school...always taunted because my it was so easy to get me upset...temper flares up easily...I know why...other people didn't, so they kept picking with me...anyway, one day, there's a call to the house...I answer, and a woman asks for Jeri...I said, this is she...she says, no, I mean my father, Jerry Austin...I'm like...I'm Jeri Austin...my father's name is Jerry Austin as well, but he died around ten years or so ago...she starts crying...this is my sister...my uncle walks in, I tell him what happened, he gets on the phone, talks to her, and then tells me that he had kids before me...possibly two or three boys and that girl...wow...and that was that...I still don't know them...they are from Chicago...so...I finally have kinda gotten in contact with my brothers, and my oldest brother one day asks me about my money...I'm like, "what money?". Apparently, when your parents die you get money...go figure...well...I never saw it...none was saved, we lived like poor people...so I'm wondering where this at least $500 a month had been going since my mother, then my father died...my uncle also had a job, and it wasn't like he was buying us stuff left and right, so as soon as I was old enough, I left...but before leaving...I discovered my sexuality...and it quickly became a replacement for affection...but there is one experience I will never forget...this guy I knew...and had briefly "talked to" one night pulled up at my friends house, and he was related to a friend of mine, so I had no reason to fear him, but he sent a message that he wanted to talk to me, wo I went outside...it was cold, so he told me to get in the car...I did...and he took off...took me to his house...he was drunk...I was nervous, but didn't do anything...he got me on the bed, and I tried to stop him, but couldn't, and I just let it happen...and I still feel like that was my fault...the one time I felt like someone made me do something I didn't want to do...and I still can't bring myself to say he raped me...I feel like I brought it on myself...so when I hear other girls say that...I know what they mean...but in the mean time, I had discovered my faith in God...thank goodness...but I was looking for a family, a father, a mother, some peace, some joy...I went to school on a scholarship, and couldn't focus on anything...I got caught up with some boy who became my world, I was looking to be loved...I was depressed, coudln't figure out where I was going to stay for the summer because I had no home to go home to...I was put on academic probation...not because I couldn't do the work...but I wasn't going to class...at all really...I screwed up again and got dismissed for the semester, ended up back in South Bend...I began to blindly follow some things, just because I was looking to be guided...I remember at one point I was making $6 an hour, and paying $300 a month in rent...some times things were so hard for me I couldn't see a way out, and it's a wonder I never contemplated suicide, but I NEVER did...never really have...I've been so hard all these years, and now it's closing in on me...so I figure it's time to release...I have a desire to help young people in tough situations...I know this was long, but I hope it has given some people a little big of insight into my life...
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