CEO Hood Square (eBook)
124 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-7333-4 (ISBN)
Knowledge B, also known as Abdul-Hakim Works and CEO Hood Square, is a justice-impacted author, journalist, blogger, entrepreneur, mentor, and aspiring motivational speaker. He is the CEO of Hood Square and the founder of the blog A Real Hood Square's Perspective-a national platform amplifying raw, unfiltered stories from incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals who are both streetwise and booksmart. Currently incarcerated in the Arizona Department of Corrections Rehabilitation and Reentry, Knowledge B has been behind bars since the age of sixteen. Refusing to be defined by his circumstances, he lives by the principle of never giving up on his life goals, in'sha Allah (God willing). From within prison walls, he has achieved significant real-world and academic accomplishments. He holds a GED, multiple certificates from Central Arizona College, an Associate in Applied Science - General Business with Highest Distinction from Rio Salado College, a Certificate in Leadership and Management from Southern Utah University, and a Competent Communicator certification from Toastmasters International. He is currently pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Communication Studies at Ashland University. Knowledge B is the author of the Hood Square Series-Tha Khronicles, Tha System, and Tha Lady Fierce Saga-as well as his acclaimed memoir CEO Hood Square: My Prison Memoir. He is also the lead author and curator of the groundbreaking anthology A Real Hood Square's Perspective: Stories From Da Pen, which brings together the voices of incarcerated Hood Squares from across the country. Connect with him across platforms: Dot com website/ tharealhoodsquare LinkedIn: Abdul-Hakim Works Instagram / TikTok / X: @ceohoodsquare Facebook: ceohoodsquare12
"e;My Prison Memoir"e; is a raw and unique view into Knowledge B aka CEO Hood Square's twenty years of incarceration. Discover the difficult journey of fire that has transformed him from a boy into the man he is today. He has learned to use his sense of being both Streetwise and Booksmart as a means to overcome the many hurdles that have been thrown in his path. To continue succeeding in life, he knows that his progress has to be just like his brand's motto: It's not a moment, it's a movement!
Chapter One:
Booking Number P028709
11/27/2004: the day that followed the night I was arrested for the first time in my life at only sixteen years old.
I found myself sitting alone in a cold, dirty holding tank at what was called ‘The Horseshoe,’ which was the unofficial name of the horseshoe-shaped intake area of the infamous Madison Street Jail, Downtown Phoenix. They charged me as an adult, along with my road dog Daruis Agboghidi, aka DeeRu. We spent our first night being housed at what was called Juvenile Durango. Once there, some faceless judge—a judge we never even saw—decided our case was too serious for the juvenile justice system to handle, which immediately kicked us up to the big leagues.
We had been arrested for getting caught up in a spree of violent arm robberies taking place all over the East Valley that prior Friday, the twenty-sixth, which just so happened to be the day after Thanksgiving. I still remember vividly my final night as a free man—if you can call a sixteen-year-old boy a man. A boy who had thought he had the world all figured out, all until he was introduced into a new world that demonstrated to him he didn’t know shit at all.
Please excuse my vulgar language, but looking back makes me have to be real with myself and that kid back then. Even though he wasn’t a bad kid, he still had some pretty messed up perceptions about what he thought was reality, which were mostly delusions he made up to justify some of the things he had found himself involved in—like gang violence and committing crimes to make fast money.
The crazy part, however, even with all the negative nonsense I involved myself in during my teen years, I was still a straight-A student. I found myself repeatedly on the honor roll each year until my arrest. As a result, I was not-so-affectionately called names like ‘Gangsta Nerd’ and my fondest one, ‘Hood Square.’ These things were my homies’ way of trying to ridicule me, but I always took them in stride and kept on striving academically.
Nevertheless, my after-school activities contradicted what I was accomplishing year-in-and-year-out at school. At the age of just twelve—going on thirteen—I had committed myself to becoming an active gang member for one of the South Side of Phoenix’s most notorious and well-recognized gangs. I had grown up loving to stand out, which included my favorite color: red. I wore it often, so it was only natural that the gang I eventually became a part of also sported it as its official color.
This came with its own assortment of problems because with my membership arose the inheritance of the bitter rivals we called ‘opps,’ which simply meant ‘opposites.’ I wasn’t clueless to the fact that I would have people hate me simply because of where I was from. To be completely honest, I was already used to it by then, even having some violent encounters with adversaries—often grown men. All I had done at that point was simply make myself official instead of being known as some hang around.
At the age of fifteen, I was introduced to what would take the place of football for me, which for years had been my primary source of getting an adrenaline rush. I loved the brutal nature of the full contact sport. But this new thing came from the most unlikely of places.
During the summer break of 2003, I started my second summer job. It was a hookup from my grandma, Ms. Etta Mae Doss. The job itself kind of sucked to be completely honest; this was how my younger self felt at the time. I was not the season vet I am now, a man who would be grateful for any opportunity that pays more than a few cents per hour. Even though summer jobs for teens are nowhere near a high-paying job, the gratitude my younger self rejected would exist in me now.
For my second summer job, I helped out with janitorial work at Rose Linda Elementary School, which was a mostly Hispanic school in a mostly Hispanic populated area in South Phoenix. I didn’t like the job at first for multiple reasons. For one, I was only one of three black teens assigned to that work assignment. The rest of the teen crew being Hispanic. So the racism we faced at work was of the blatant in your face type. To make matters worse, the other two black teens just so happened to be brother and sister, and they came from a rival hood. Subsequently, I didn’t immediately find any allies there, and I felt stranded on some desert island, like the old Tom Hank’s movie Cast Away.
After working there for almost a month, I had finally become cool with my fellow black teen coworkers due to the racial hostilities we all were facing from both our other fellow teen coworkers and some of the adult staff that worked for the school. This was your classic ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ which, in this situation, turned out to be the case.
My new homie KC, who was a year or so older than me, quickly showed me some other ways to make money that weren’t of the legitimate fashion, but he was effective at what he did. He also had a sort of professionalism about himself as he did it, which was burglaries. He taught me how to scope out potential marks and to never eat where you shit because you didn’t want to one day come face-to-face with someone who could recognize you. Something that could spell disaster. Therefore, we would travel all the way to the West Valley to find some of his favorite hunting grounds.
I was hooked after the first day and quickly learned everything he knew to become good enough to implement some things I felt were needed to improve our modus operandi.
One thing led to another, and before long, we found ourselves making some pretty decent money—especially for two teenage boys who still lived under the same roof as our parents.
Speaking of my parents, I have to give them a shout out every time because I had back then and still have right now both my mom and dad in my life. I give all praise to Allah for them because they provided what they could for me and my siblings, but I made my own choices to pursue the lifestyle I lived back then, becoming the negative product of my environment.
Once summer ended, I went back into full student mode and ceased doing any more burglaries because I had my hands filled with my academic responsibilities. I also had my responsibilities as an athlete who played both football and ran track plus tended to do boxing training in between the football season and track season to help me stay in shape. The reason for this was, at the time, my little brother DeAndre Works aka Outlaw B was a full-time amateur boxer boxing out of the Salvation Army. Many of the youth from our part of the South Side went to enjoy the many programs they offered there.
All this changed when my family was forced to move from the South Side to the deep aves of West Phoenix, which was uncharted territory for me from living my whole life in the same part of town.
My little brother had started having major behavioral problems, and to this day, I regret my part in being a bad influence on him by pushing him into the gang lifestyle and following in mine and our big cousins’ footsteps, just so we all could be from the same gang. I had noticed my brother hanging out more and more with a homie of his who had ties with a rival gang who wore the total opposite color as ours, which was blue. To add insult to injury, I watched as my little brother seemed to lean towards this. So, in my young and naïve mind, instead of pushing him away from gang banging, I pressed him hard until I had him quoted on.
What you all got to understand about my little brother is that he is a monster at what he does, and my go hard don’t have nothing on the go hardness of his. Even to this day, my little brother still goes harder than me. It’s just now we try to be on something bigger and better.
Nonetheless, back in 2003, when we had to move to the other side of town, came a new high school and an unfamiliar sports program, which led to me not liking my new environment. This part of town also didn’t like people from my part of town, especially those who rocked the colors I did.
It seemed like most of this part of town back then loved to associate themselves with being a Crip, even if they weren’t officially from a hood or set. On top of this turmoil was the fact that I had recently lost my potential first child. My high school sweetheart had been forced to have an abortion by her mom. This made me feel powerless as I had become excited at the prospect of becoming a father, only to have it taken away in such a fashion. I quickly resorted back to my summer activities of committing burglaries with the homie who had originally put me on.
All this focus on the streets made me ramp up on improving my street credentials. I began to gang bang even harder than ever before on the Wild Wild West, feeling like I could potentially mark out my own territory because the South Side was super small compared to the wide open territory of the West Valley which included the West Side of Phoenix and the suburban cities of Glendale, Tollison, Avendale, and Peoria, which I explored like Dora.
I started off doing my own personal tour of visiting different high schools all over these cities. This led to me meeting a bunch of new people I would of never met any other way. You have to remember, this was...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 12.12.2024 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3509-7333-4 / 9798350973334 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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