ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT: The What & Why

She holds the needle steady, asking me to push the plunger in.

Photo by TSD Studio on Unsplash

This piece is dedicated to a friendship…I love you, always.

A ROCKET ON THE LAUNCH PAD

(ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT) : A significant halt in a person’s physical, emotional, or intellectual growth at a specific stage of life.

Imagine having the ability to relive your adolescent years a second time around, I have been blessed to do this daily. The win-win is having the wisdom & maturity as a 43 year old man, along with the vigor & carefree mentality of a 15 year old. That is my reality! I’m Tom Hanks in the movie “BIG”.

Arrested development often stems from childhood trauma, poor or inappropriate parenting, and/or a fear from moving into the next stage of life. For many of us living with this disorder we have a combination of all three causes in our background. In my case specifically, my emotional cut-off age feels about 15. The bullshit in my life began much younger, but once I was deep within the world of group homes, foster care, and institutions - All bets were off..

I have never attended high school a day in my life. In fact, after I failed 8th grade I dropped out of school all together, I later attended Job Corps when I was 16 and attained my GED. Missing out on my H.S. years were socially devastating! The interactions I would have developed navigating friends, enemies, cliques, sports, extracurricular activities, dating, and attraction is what would have given me that emotional intelligence and experience I needed in order to form an identity and engage with others in a healthy manner. There were no teachers, coaches, or friends - I had staff! My only comrades were other teens in the same shitty situation in life. No first car, no driver’s ed., no ambition to even think about transportation…there was only the institution, the rules, staff and my case plan.

As an incarcerated young person, I imagined for years what the “real world” was like. I considered what it looked like to be an adult with adult responsibilities. Here I am now navigating school, employment, social services, independent living, relationships, etc. It’s terrifying and beautiful all at once. While I was still inside, a person I knew told me about this trend taking place among a large number of young adults in society; “A failure to Launch” is what she called it. The phrase in itself is descriptive enough, imagining a rocket unable to takeoff. The epidemic in America of young males seemingly unable to sustain a career, healthy social interactions, or a zeal for life both terrified and perplexed me all at once. As my release date inched closer, this concept of “Failure to launch” nagged at me more and more. But why?

It was the great James Baldwin in his 1963 essay The Fire Next Time in which I recalled that same fear of failure, or a socially engineered rigging of the system that would keep me from achieving my goals, achieving success in life. It is in the following pages Baldwin describes the angst he feels as he sees his reality for what it is;

“I began to feel in my body that I was moving out of the world of standard, accepted reality into a world of my own making... I began to be afraid. I was afraid of the girls, too, and for the same reason: I was afraid that I would never be able to reach them, that they would never be able to reach me...

But I was afraid of the world, and I was afraid of my own body…The avenue, which was then, as it is now, one of the worst in the city, was filled with a certain kind of people... I knew that they were like me, and I was like them; and I knew that I was looking at my future...They were used to the streets, and they had been broken by the streets. It was as though they had been born into a prison. And I didn’t want to be broken. I didn’t want to be a part of that avenue, or a part of that crowd. I wanted to get away.” (pg. 16-20)

Baldwin experienced a moment of seeing reality as it truly was. I experienced these exact feelings as a 43 year old man about to be released into a new world. So many people poured their time, support and reputation into me, I could not let them down. A former friend whom I met just 16 months before my eventual release invited me into her mother’s home just minutes after my release, I mean if that is not love and trust what is? I had to do well out here…I had to!

A Rocket just about to take off.

Arriving in Buffalo in the dead of winter with nothing but a suitcase, my brown skin, and a felony conviction for a homicide invoked a vulnerability that is beyond description, yet I moved forward in life ready for whatever challenges awaited me. Armed with a mentality that I can do anything, I kept Ruby, Tamara, Jen Love, and John Jay close to my heart. “I’ve got this!” I constantly reminded myself.

Every introduction, every new face I encountered I would put my best foot forward. I gave everyone a taste of what reading nearly a thousand books in a dimly lit cell instilled in me. Only the most articulate and passionate speech came out of my mouth at every turn, my skin still had that prison glow to it, 25 years without eating a real burger, 25 years with no alcohol, 25 years of pull up’s, push up’s, and jogging in prison yards across the state. Praying, fasting, I was a fucking beast, mind, body and spirit!

Then it happened…

My optimism turned out to be naivety. My hopes, dreams and desires collided with reality. The reality that I was convicted of something that will forever be attached to me. Not convicted of selling drugs, a weapons charge, nor a robbery - I was sentenced to life for being part of the taking of a life. I was not released due to being found innocent after all these years, nor was I granted clemency. I served all my time and was found suitable for release at my first parole hearing - a feat in itself, still, I am seen as a murder loose. The mental, spiritual, and physical “beast” who developed in the world of prison, turned out to be that vulnerable 15 year old boy.

The worst and most embarrassing feeling is having great initial job interviews only to be told that I did not, cannot get the job. No! I cannot prove it is due to my incarceration, but the let down always happens after the background check. I learned to stop updating friends and family about potential jobs I applied to. Fear, embarrassment - A Failure to Launch.

“Can you imagine what I’ll do once I get my State I.D?” I asked my friend who had witnessed up close my release and reentry.

“Yeah, you're gonna fly!” It was the response that initially reinforced that “superhero” mentality I once possessed. Today, I still know that I am overqualified in mind and spirit. But in this world, a background check delays my takeoff.

A heart locked in a prison cell within a black male chest

TRAUMA BONDING

“You say hurtfully shit! Your an asshole Tony!”

“Yeah well, you lie and your life isn’t shit!”

Is what Jaslynn and I yell at each other every other day.

Yes! I built my personal philosophy on a foundation that we as humans have a responsibility to care for one another. However, in my personal relationship I am a 15 year old (adult) in a relationship with an adult woman who possesses trauma issues and stands on nearly every level of intersectionality - we came together like magnets. In all honesty we appear terrible for each other. One of the tell-tale signs of trauma bonding is the zero to one hundred pace that the relationship takes off at.

I am intertwined in my first real relationship with emotional inexperience in a world of technology. I can block and unblock several times a day, I can ignore texts, etc. I attempt to adapt to all aspects of what it means to balance intimate moments, personal time spent together, arguing, and vile remarks with my partner. Then there are the profound moments that are captured, watching her inject HRT estradiol (Hormone Replacement Therapy) deep into her arm. She holds the needle steady, asking me to push the plunger in.

Executive Dysfunction: The adult brain knows what to do, but the emotional brain feels too small or unequipped to handle the consequences.

I have made many poor decisions since being out, I have attempted to do every immature, outdated, cliche thing I yearned for all my life. Not once have I envied anyone for their freedom, but what I did covet was their lifetime of memories. In those moments of trying to live out a 1997 rap video, all I wanted to do was create memories, so I can say; “Yeah, I did that too!”

Handling frustration on this side is a new exercise in patience. Conflict resolution in prison does not last long and often ends in extreme violence, but the urge to tell people out here to “Suck my d*ck” every time someone aggravates me will get me nowhere fast.

What would have diverted the Arrested Development in my life? Of course prison was a major contributor, but that adult presence was so badly needed! I just needed some clothes so I didn’t have to skip school nearly everyday in the 8th grade. I needed an adult to guide me with emotional structure, I needed a social system to recognize that my household was unsafe and traumatic. Ace’s (Adverse Childhood Experiences) was not a widely known thing back in the early-mid 90’s

Now as I build my life, goals I once had are competing with scrolling online for hours. Money that should be saved is spent on Granddaddy Purple. Can you for a moment imagine what it is to suddenly ask Google, A.I., or Youtube anything!? I spend hours just satisfying my curiosity looking up old interviews, 90s hip-hop videos, and all the cultural moments I missed over the past two and a half decades. Do you know what it means to me that I can watch any Michael Jackson video on demand? Laugh at the silliest Facebook shorts? Or try to avoid porn even though I have access to regular intimate encounters? I’ve been thrust into a world that feels like a freight train has collided with me at full speed.

As my first summer approaches and living on my own becomes more serious, I have pure angst coursing through my body. Not wanting to disappoint myself and others, I remain cognizant to keep achieving small positive goals - I am dedicated to that. However, the urge to do immature stupid shit pulls at me. Can I Live?

GRADUATION! (TAKEOFF!)

Walking across that stage at the UB center for the arts represented my forward progression in life. My parole-issued ankle monitor represented that my past will always be attached to me. With my mother, sister, nephew, and close friends cheering me on, I felt one step closer to Atonement, Redemption, and Grace. I owe a debt in life, and on the evening of May 20th as I moved across that stage and shook hands with University at Buffalo elites I paid a significant amount back.

I hate this new world. I love my Liberation. I am depressed throughout the day, and up all night with anxiety - I am on my own here. Rent, food, clothes, transportation, bills. I am a 15 year old 43 year old, and I’m scared. I’m scared all the time.

I got through my prison time by simply waking up everyday and leaning on hope. I wake up everyday out here and submit to reality.

THERE IS NO CHURCH IN THE WILD