Page 1 of Chapter 2 - Tha Problem Child (Part 1) from "Traumatic Memoirs - Gangsta: To Be or Not To Be (Book 1)

From age five onward, I can pretty much remember everything in my life. I also can’t forget it because that was when I started noticing a lot of changes in my mom. She started neglecting me and my sister (only to show favoritism to my sister years later). She talked down to me and always tried to use me as a scapegoat for my father’s mistakes, saying things like “You ain’t gonna be shit, just like your daddy,” “I wish your daddy would come and get you,” and “I wish I would’ve never had you.” That hurt me a lot. She didn’t know that hearing that type of verbal abuse regularly would play a big role in my becoming a rebellious teenager and getting involved in my first gang activities.

Like most parents, my mom never had any regard for my feelings or opinions about anything dealing with my childhood. A lot of parents fail to show their children the love and support they need to be successful at anything they do, whether it’s getting a good grade in school or achieving in some other area. Parents always, always need to show interest and congratulate their children on the good things they do. Kids need their confidence built up from an early age so they can set goals and pursue the career choices they made while growing up.

I’m a parent myself, and I have decided that I will never make the mistake of neglecting my son. I promised myself that I would be a better parent to my son than my mom was to me. He deserves a better life then what I led. He needs a chance to get all the love and support he wants in order to make it in the hard world we live in. I’m not going to deny my son the proper parenting he needs to one day become successful. I’m going to love him and be there for him regardless of what he does, because I love him and he’s a very important part of me. I’m going to start now, while he’s young.

In 1974, I was five years old. We had just recently moved to Atlanta, and we were staying with my Aunt Betty and my grandmother. My Aunt Betty kind of spoiled me; she bought me candy and took me on bus rides. I had grown fond of her. She always told me, “You’re so cute, gimme some sugar.” She and my grandmother used to watch us when my mom wasn’t around, which was quite often.