WALLACE SIMPSON
PSU BLACK STUDIES, WINTER 2024
FINAL DRAFT
This corner store,
A constant reminder that every penny counted transactions and economics than this intersection.
this corner helped me find myself
With all the potential in the World,
But Stuck in the Streets like a man hole.
these Streets are gutter,
and I am its offspring
Slave to its teachings.
Constantly
overlooked, overwhelmed, overshadowed, and ostracized in a community that by right is mine.
this the trenches,
uninviting and unwelcoming
But this was all I had,
and for what it's worth the only thing that Stayed
consistent.
Round here
It's cold Blooded and cold hearted
But we was taught not to stress it ...
What do you see inside this image ?
I see some losses and some lessons.
A DOLLAR AND A DREAM
A dollar and a dream
on this block they came far few and Between
Affluence and opportunity round here.
Was quite rare
We try to outrun our nightmares in our nike airs
The pull of gravity on our reality was quite clear,
You either ignite your flight, or do life here
I’m from Where Being Stuck trapped Broken and hopeless is our life fear.
Our dreams constantly elude us
While society try and dilute.
Only role models I seen
Was pimps, dopeboys, and the shooters
father absentee
So street scholars became my tutors,
cone is the hoop dreams, visions of Becoming
Record producers.
Look at me now
Stuck in the trenches chasing riches
making money slanging cream,
now I’m Back Where it all started with
a dollar and a dream.
GIVE AND TAKE
This location is one of supreme importance and high value, it’s a place that has given me much. But has taken far more in return. This intersection on Kerby and Skidmore is where I learned to have heart and that being a man and standing on my own two feet really counted for something, especially here.
This is where I first encountered love outside of my home, perhaps one of the strongest forms of love that a young Black male will encounter, “homie love.” This love is in my opinion one of the strongest because it manifests not out of obligation but out of principles. Most other forms of love are manifested out of reasons that, for one reason or another, evolve or revolve over time, but principles last a lifetime because often times we find ourselves living by them. The love of my closest friends spawned right here on this block, my best friend lived in the second house from the corner on the left and another friend in the duplex just out of sight on the corner. Relationships were built here, some flourished while others fizzled out which only serves as a constant reminder, on this block only the strong survive.
However, despite all that was given, cultivated, and developed here, what stuck the most were the losses because they seemed to be endless and of epic proportions, and to be accompanied by a hurt that seemingly lasts a lifetime.
How many empty sacrifices do you make with the understanding there will be no return on these investments? I wish I knew, the answer to that question forever eludes me, continually subjecting me to the most compromising of positions between a rock and shard place or loyalty and betrayal. The way in which I love and loathe this place is like an abusive relationship, you love it with every fiber of your being for the potential of what it could become, only to realize it will never be more than what it is, leaving you with a decision to make. Do you continue to give until there’s nothing left to take? Or I take what you’ve got before there’s nothing left to give?
A DOLLAR AND A DREAM
Some of my earliest memories take place and unfold at this location. When I think about myself and how I came into my own, this location, the blue house across the street from the baseball field at Jefferson High School, comes to mind. For me it is the stomping ground that cultivated some of my first interests.
I discovered and fell in love with music here, my great grandmother had the huge heavy solid wood floor model record player that sat in the family dining area just off the living room. I remember being so inspired by the sounds of hip hop that I would put records on there and try to scratch like a DJ until somebody would grow tired and shut my concert down. Usually my cousin and myself would then be sent outside, so we would go across the street to the baseball field at the school. To this day, I can still hear my grandma’s voice as we were about to cross the street: "You better look both ways" so we would do just that stop, look, and listen for traffic before proceeding. Along the fence line on Alberta there was a mound of dirt next to a tree which we affectionately called the “rapping hill.” We would spend hours there free styling and learning how to rhyme about different topics and subject matters.
Another one of my first interests or first loves was also encountered here. Basketball was a big influence in my life, I had two older cousins that played varsity and junior varsity for Jefferson and my whole family would go. Those games and those experiences had a tremendous impact on me. Going to these games for me felt like going to a professional sporting event and the love they received was the equivalent, the outpouring of support and adoration looked the same and that resonated with me enormously. Even when I wasn’t allowed to attend the games I would watch from home on TV. I saw them as much as I saw the Blazer games, and I wanted that for myself.
I saw sports and music as a way to become important, a somebody. I seen the kind of support one received for being talented, when as a kid I was able to see no one pays attention to a nobody, that fueled my drive and motivated me to put in countless hours and work super hard to make the most out of the least. This was my sacrifice to my pursuit, of a dollar and dream.
LOSSES AND LESSONS
A large part of my existence unfolded at this intersection, and this corner store played a vital role. In my younger years, I ran countless errands to this store for my great grandmother for eggs, milk, butter and even for cigarettes. With a note sometimes because she had a credit line with the time owners (Helen and Mike).
As a kid I never received handouts and was taught to work for the things I wanted. When I wanted candy from the store my great grandmother would say in her strong voice “Boy put them bottles and cans in that little red wagon and carry them to that store and get what you want.” I remember lugging that wagon by the cold rusted handle three blocks each way to accommodate my sweet tooth.
I learned to count money, and that every penny counted here. I learned the importance of transactions and economics at this intersection, the exchange of goods and services. In my later years the store became more of a survival tool so to speak, I literally survived on the hot food counter when I left home and gravitated to the streets. I eventually sold drugs and found gangs here as well. To bring things full circle, this corner helped find myself and become my man. Some lessons came much harder, but in the end I found balance in all of my experiences and I'm thankful to say that there were no losses, only lessons. | WS