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La’Shawn K. Nicks-Bey
Born the youngest of six siblings on Oct.1, 1971 at Michael Reese Hospital in Chicago Illinois, I was raised in a housing project called the Dearborn Homes, where for me, life seemed to be a never ...ver maisBorn the youngest of six siblings on Oct.1, 1971 at Michael Reese Hospital in Chicago Illinois, I was raised in a housing project called the Dearborn Homes, where for me, life seemed to be a never ending struggle, but despite the gangs and all the violence that was around me everyday, I always maintained my ability and my passion to write and to be creative.
My father worked for the steel mill and was a bouncer at a club in down town Chicago at night where he eventually lost his life, I was either 4 or 5 years old when I lost my father, but I still have vague memories of him, then at the age of 15 I lost my mother to cancer, and since then, I've been raised in the streets and by the streets, because after my mom died my family just went their separate ways, so at this age I was forced to live a life that my mom had always sheltered me from, in this life I learned the real and true meaning of hustle and survival, and in this life I've done almost everything imaginable just to live to see another day, the organization that I was affiliated with became my second family and my loyalty was to them. Although I did two prison terms in Illinois, all of my willingness to write was forgotten until I was doing my first prison sentence in Minnesota for Aggravated Robbery, my passion for writing was renewed and it was the first time that I decided to take my writing seriously. In 1996 when I was released from that term, I got back to hustling, but still I appeared on a top Minneapolis radio station to say a few of my poems, I even remember a few people calling the station to say how much they liked what I had to say, it was all good, but poetry wasn't putting no money in my pockets, so I kept on hustling and writing until on Jan.11,1999 when I got picked up for shooting 3 people in North Minneapolis for beating up a relative of mine, I got sentenced a year later to 163 months and my life as I knew it was over, I lost everything!!! I felt bad for losing all of my material possessions, but nothing came close to the pain that I felt for losing my wife and our daughter, right now as I write this I could feel a cold emptiness inside my chest, but still I stay strong with the hopes of re -establishing the unity and the bond that I once had with my family. But in light of everything, I want the words of my poems to touch the hearts and minds of people like me, I put true life experience in every word, Real will recognize Real, so peep game.ver menos