Pongo Poetry Project’s mission is to engage youth in writing poetry to inspire healing and growth. For over 20 years, Pongo has mentored poetry with youth at the Children & Family Justice Center (CFJC), King County’s juvenile detention facility. Many CFJC residents are Youth of Color who have endured traumatic experiences in the form of abuse, neglect, and exposure to violence. These incidents have been caused and exacerbated by community disinvestment, systemic racism, and other forms of institutional oppression. In collaboration with CFJC staff, Pongo poetry writing offers CFJC youth a vehicle for self-discovery and creative expression that inspires recovery and healing. Through this special bimonthly column in partnership with the South Seattle Emerald, Pongo invites readers to bear witness to the pain, resilience, and creative capacity of youth whose voices and perspectives are too often relegated to the periphery. To partner with Pongo in inspiring healing and relief in youth coping with mental and emotional turmoil, join their upcoming training on May 21.
NO HOOK
by a young person, age 17
My life’s a game of chess — you make the wrong moves, you get your life taken. Sometimes I have nothing but my brother, I followed his steps. I regret choosing this life — my mom tried her best. But when I grow older I’m gonna get rich, put some money in her pockets and buy her a crib. The only plotting I been doing is up in my cell, Caught a fade once or twice and sent them to hell Got respect on my name my name ringing them bells Call me lefty in these streets I never will tell.
Pongo Poetry Project’s mission is to engage youth in writing poetry to inspire healing and growth. For over 20 years, Pongo has mentored poetry with youth at the Children & Family Justice Center (CFJC), King County’s juvenile detention facility. Many CFJC residents are Youth of Color who have endured traumatic experiences in the form of abuse, neglect, and exposure to violence. These incidents have been caused and exacerbated by community disinvestment, systemic racism, and other forms of institutional oppression. In collaboration with CFJC staff, Pongo poetry writing offers CFJC youth a vehicle for self-discovery and creative expression that inspires recovery and healing. Through this special bimonthly column in partnership with the South Seattle Emerald, Pongo invites readers to bear witness to the pain, resilience, and creative capacity of youth whose voices and perspectives are too often relegated to the periphery. To partner with Pongo in inspiring healing and relief in youth coping with mental and emotional turmoil, join their upcoming training on May 21.
STREETS COME WITH THAT
by a young person, age 16
I never realized the streets come with all these feelings till I was in my cell thinking about what the judge said after the sentence not knowing which of my brothers turned into a witness. I never went into the streets for attention, just trying to take me and my mama out the trenches. But I keep going to jail. Can’t help it because people keep switching. Tryna to do good but charges keep popping up because people keep snitching. It’s like a double-edged sword ’cause every time I go to jail it’s like an intervention to get away from these streets that feel like hell but they get so cold though. All these dead brothers — I cry every time I see each one’s photo. I’m trying to grow. I’m trying to stay on my 7-4.* I can’t fold. Can’t let them see me crumble. It’s like every time I f*ck up, the whole team fumbles.
Got to march through these units and always stand tall. Especially in my cell, staring at these 4×4 cell walls. Dealin’ with all these suckas in these halls. But they wouldn’t try me though, they don’t got the balls. I’m just tryin’ to make it out, but this system’s so flawed. It wouldn’t be a fight at all if these lawyers did their job like when that police got off when they outlined my brother in chalk. And it’s like I can’t even go out to walk without being scared that I’m the next one to get shot. It’s crazy to think after all my ancestors fought, this is all we got. Tryin’ to get money to get my peoples off the block but I just keep getting sent to jail to rot.
