Gangster Turned Guru Presents: Chapter Excerpt: Killer Canaan

“…I laid back down in my bed, put on my headphones to catch the local radio station news, when I heard “United States Penitentiary Canaan, is locked down due to the murder of office Erick Wilkins, by an inmate in the unit he was assigned to.”

“Oh shit P-Lee!” I shouted, shooting up out of the bed and snapping on the light.

“Yo! What’s up man?” raising from under the blanket, eyes squinting from the sudden brightness.

“We’re locked down because they killed a CO last night.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Eddie.”

“I just heard them announce it on the local news,” I said, walking over to the cell door to look out on the unit, “And the TV’s are turned off.”

“Oh shit, they’re about to put us through it.  They killed a fucking officer,” P-Lee said, shaking his head while climbing down the latter.

“I’m glad my mother brought the girls to visit last weekend because we’re about to be on lockdown for months,” I said, walking over to my locker and pulling out my bag of commissary to do a quick inventory assessment, preparing to ration out my personal food for the duration of this ordeal.

An hour later, the main unit door slammed shut and I heard the jiggling keys of the officers.  I walked over to the door and saw them loading cardboard boxes on the pushcart.

“Food trays are up P-Lee.”

“Good, I’m starving.”

Two officers were feeding the unit, coming to each cell door, unlocking the food slots and shoving in the two brown cardboard meal boxes, along with two cartons of milk.  This type of meal wouldn’t sustain a kindergartner, let along two grown men.  Watching the officers as they approached, I saw the anguish on their strained screw faces.

Rumor on prisoner.com said that allegedly, four officers that work on the compound were ordered by the shift lieutenant, to shake down an inmate named Jessie’s cell, which is a standard procedure normally done by the one officer working the unit.  For some reason, the shift Lieutenant, nicknamed “Big Show,” because he looked just like the professional wrestler, tall, overweight, bald with a thick mustache, directed the four compound officers to rip this particular cell apart, and they did.”

Gangster Turned Guru Presents: Chapter Excerpt: “Esco”

I have no problem admitting that my gangster mentality stemmed from a false self-perception and lack of self-love to all the various gang members I’ve had as cellmates.  When I discuss how I’ve refused to entertain those negative thought patterns to Bloods, Crips, Gangster Disciples and Vice Lords that I’ve bunked with, most couldn’t imagine changing their lives being apart from their gang.

This was especially true for a 24-year-old Crip, from Long Island named Esco.  Short, stocky, half black and half Puerto Rican with an innocent looking baby face that has fooled plenty of people when put to the test.  He claimed to love the gang life.  He swore he knew it all, talking me to death with his gang mentality from which he perceived the world.

Every day at 3:30 p.m. as soon as the cell door locked for the count, Esco would sit up from the top bunk, where he’d spend most of the day and start to talk.

“Eddie, these guys always come to you for advice. What they can’t think on their own?”

“Actually, for a lot of us, thinking on our own is what we’re learning to do.”

“You’re learning to think on your own? Who don’t know how to do that?”

“You’d be surprised, Esco. When you don’t know who you really are, you live according to the authority of others.” I laughed thinking about my own past identify crisis. “You of all people should know that.”

“Why should I know?”

“Because you’re a Crip and have to follow whatever your OG says,” I answered.

He climbed down the latter at the end of the bed, ready to debate. “Everybody falls under the authority of somebody.  You follow the authority of these CO’s when they tell you to stand for the count,” he fired back.

“They don’t have to tell me to stand for count.”

“That’s because you’re already standing.”

“Exactly, under my own authority,” I said laying back on my bed with my hands behind my head, cradled by my pillow.

“Aren’t your followers under your authority?”

“My followers?”

“Yeah, Twin, Paradise, O, Tone, Javi and all those guys in and out of here all day asking you what to do, how to do it, and they listen because you think you’re smart from reading all those books.”

“It’s not that I think I’m smart, they trust me to give them positive advice.”

“Why don’t they ask me?” he wondered pulling his chair up along the side of my bed.

“Probably because we view things from a different perspective.”

“How’s that?”

“Esco, you’re still relatively young, trying to prove yourself in an attempt to figure out who you are.”

“Prove myself! I know how I give it up!! Ask about me! My name rings bells out in the streets!”

“I never heard of you!” I said shaking my head flashing a grin.

“That’s because you been locked up for so long! Call out on the streets and you’ll see. I bang! It’s what I do!”

“But what does it get you?”

“Respect!”

Squinting my eyebrows together I asked, “Banging gets you respect?  What are you banging for?” sitting up from my laid back position, giving him my full attention.

“For my set, my block! It’s what I do! I wasn’t a pretty boy, getting money type like you Eddie.  They call it gang banging because I bang!” he emphasized all hyped up, pounding his fist in his chest like a silverback gorilla.

“And all that banging is causing you those problems out in the streets.”

“What problems?  I’m good in my hood.”

“Esco, you sit here every night and day telling me your war stories against the Latin Kings and the Bloods.”

“Cause I give it up on those mother fuckers!”

“And they give it up on you!  The Bloods ran up on your girlfriend’s car and shot you in the leg.  The Latin Kings, shot up your baby mother’s house, thinking you were there.  Your son could have got hit.”

“That’s because they’re scared of me and know I’m a threat!”  He defended, raising up out of his chair, walking over to the cell door to stare at himself in the six magnetic mirrors I have on the door.

“Who’s scared of you?”

“They’re all scared of me!” he said, looking back over his shoulder, nodding his head.

“They’re not scared of you, simply because they’re banging on you and although you’ve gotten away, they killed your cousin Russ on his 21st birthday.”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, Esco. It’s a consequence of the lifestyle you’re choosing to live.”

“But he wasn’t banging, he was just with me all the time.”

“And somebody banged on him, for what?? Your set? The block?  Does it mean that much?”  I asked, leaving him silent for a few seconds, which is a difficult thing to do.

#gangsterturnedgurupresents

#eddiekwright

#respect

 

Gangster Turned Guru Presents: ‘And so it begins!’

This young Haitian guy Stevie, but calling himself Hyena, came back to the unit after spending 40 days in the hole.

He’s 21 years old but when I tell you he looks like he’s 12, I mean it. He’s shorter than my 13 year old daughter and weighs about 100 pound soaking wet. If we were free in the world together, I’d take him right to my Princesses middle school to beat up all the little boys that want to be her boyfriend.

Hold up, that was the over protective father, triggering my past gangster mentality taking over.

Anyway, Hyena lost his mother in the earthquake that devastated Haiti and came to live with his uncle in Brooklyn. It didn’t take long for the lure of the streets to take hold and he’s since found himself as a member of the Cripps.

Charged with armed robbery, the Feds offered him 10 years on a plea deal.

He came to my cell, asking me for advice.

“Eddie, ten years is like life,” he said with his strong Haitian creo accent.

“That’s how it seems now, but your young, you’ll be all right. Take that!”

“You say that like it’s nothing because you have over 13 years in already.”

“No” I corrected, “I say it like it’s a good deal and if you think about going to trial, they’ll knock your head off with twenty years or more.”

“Well, I’ll go to trial and they’ll have to give me that!” He said.

I’ve heard this argument many times before and I recognize it as the fear talking.

I also understand that he’s looking towards me for advice because he’s scared for his life.

“Hyena, your running around on gang time. You just got out the hole and your chasing the next high smoking all that K-2.”

“I been a Crip before I came to the Feds and I’m Cripping until that day I die. I get high all day cause there’s nothing else to do.”

“There’s plenty to do. Your not making the choices to do it.” I said continuing, “You have to want better for yourself and that means you’ll have to do change.”

“Change for what? They want to give me 10 years!!” He said leaning forward in the chair, running his hands through his mini-afro.

“First of all, if you start changing now, you won’t loose your good time and you’ll be home in like eight years.”

“Eight years!!”

“Listen, this is what comes with the lifestyle your choosing, so get used to it. You want to be a gangster, bust your gun, wave your flag while throwing your little hand signs, then be prepare to do more time after that because you’ll either be killed or come back to prison, those are the consequences.”

“I want like two or three years,” he said like he didn’t hear what I just told him.

“That’s easy to say but the way your thinking and the actions your taking in here are attracting a different result. Take that little bitty 10 years, hopefully it will be enough time for you to wake up and live your true potential.”

Standing up, offering his hand, shaking his head he said, “Man, you say take 10 years like it’s nothing. I can’t hear that right now.”

“You don’t want to hear it, but I speak the truth to the youth!” I said as he turned and walked out my cell.

As much as I would like to grab Hyena, sit him back in the chair and talk to him until he’s ready to change, I know that he has to want better for himself first.

He has no idea that the patterns of thoughts he’s entertaining are setting the laws of attraction in motion to draw his experiences.

He’s convinced himself that he’s a Crip in his mind and speaks without understanding that our words have the power to become the results of what’s spoken. Hyena can’t see the logical conclusions of the path he’s currently on and when I was his age, neither could I.

I try to discourage those headed on that path, but in the mist of doing time, it’s a difficult barrier to conquer.

Instead of focusing on how much time I’ve done or have to do, I pay attention to what I’ve accomplished and my future goals.

Right before we locked in that night, I passed Hyena my “Day in the life with coffee and Paradise” book.

He gave it back this morning, having finished it since it’s only 30 pages.

“Does life really work like that?” he asked.

“That’s a question you should be able to answer if your honest with yourself. Think back to how you were thinking in the past and what lead to where you are now.”

“I like the way you break all that down with the laws and principals. Do you have something else to read?”

“Of course.”

And so it begins.

 

#eddiekwright

#voiceforthesilentfathers

#gangsterturnedguru

#fathersonrelationships

#unconditionallove

#inmateauthors

#blackauthors

#mwrightgroup

Gangster Turned Guru Presents: Current Events: Puerto Rico/Trump/Kaepernick

One of the challenges with writing about current events while in prison is that unforeseen obstacles can delay my post even more then the slight delay system I’m dealing with in having to have a third party post on my site. This post is almost two weeks overdue because the day I went to type it out, two MS-13 members attacked and stabbed a member of a rival gang on my unit, triggering a chain reaction of events throughout the prison.
In the past two weeks while I’ve been locked in my cell much has gone on with the continued neglect of Puerto Rico due to the hurricanes which is Donald Trumps “Katrina” moment. I kept waiting to hear one of the Puerto Rican entertainers pull a Kanye West and state “President Trump doesn’t care about Puerto Ricans!”
Instead of caring support, he sends insulting tweets. Two days after Haiti’s earthquake, there were 20,000 American troops deployed to help a foreign country. It took over a week to deploy half that amount to Puerto Rico, a territory of the United States. In two weeks time Haiti had 300 U.S. military helicopters deployed to transport the sick, deliver water, food and supplies. It’s been over two weeks and Puerto Rico has received only 40 military helicopters to assist in their recovery. The brutal attack by Trump on the female Mayor of San Juan who was only trying to get the help that citizens of United States deserve once again reflects the character of our President.
Although I was prepared to write more thoughts on the Puerto Rico catastrophe, the recent Las Vegas incident is now overshadowing all else so I had to mention the Puerto Rico condition which affects the lives of millions of Americans. I’ve written a separate piece on Las Vegas.
But I still wanted to also share what I wrote prior to being locked two weeks ago which may read like old news but I still think is worthy of a read.

President Donald Trump never stops giving us incredible opportunities to express who we are in response to the tweets he sends out and the statements made, not only at his rally’s when he’s specifically speaking to his fan base but when standing on the world stage in front of the leaders of the United Nations where he actually threatened to commit a war crime saying he would “Totally destroy North Korea” prompting their equally crazy leader to respond with similar threats. This is reality TV at it’s best!

Now Trump calls on the NFL owners to “fire any son of a bitch…” that peacefully protest the injustices in America by taking a knee during the National anthem in unison with the movement started by quarterback Collin Kaepernick, which resulted in him being blackballed by the owners of the NFL organization, in an attempt to silence his voice.
The first Sunday of football games after Trump’s directive resulted in over 150 players locking arms or taking a knee in solidarity which isn’t disrespecting the flag or our country, it’s actually reminding us of the freedoms that the flag is supposed to represent.

I’m not surprised that Trump thinks since athletes are paid large salaries by these team owners that they literally own them and they lose their constitutional rights, especially when expressing that right goes against his overall agenda, clandestinely stated with slogans of “Taking back our country” or “Making America great again.” At least Trump is blatantly honest in his opinions that a black man peacefully protesting by taking a knee while the national anthem is being played makes you a “Son of a bitch.” But as long as you’re a white nationalist, marching at night holding tiki torches shouting “You will not replace us!” resulting in a woman being run over and killed, the president stated his opinion saying “Some of those are good people.”

NFL owners were forced to recently come out in public support of their players because of the Presidents statements and tweets. Collin Kaepernick probably feels those owners are a little late, especially when they were in 100% compliance with assuring that he no longer had a job in their organization. Maybe if he chooses to fight dogs on the side or physically abuse his wife, he’d at least earn a couple of million as a substitute quarterback, but to peacefully protest the undeniable injustices in the black communities of America wasn’t going to be tolerated. Hopefully, one of these owners will come to their senses and have the courage to offer him a contract, particularly since he’s a better quarterback than some of this seasons starters.

The president injection into this football topic is possibly a masterful distraction from other significant issues such as the third failed attempt to repeal the Affordable Care Act. The Republicans, who for the last seven years did everything to criticize our health care system, haven’t taken the time to create a better comprehensive program equal to the needs of all American people. There are no perfect Health Care policy’s, but there are systems in this world that work and can be improved. The biggest problem America has concerning Health Care is that it’s based on a profit margin, which automatically institutionalizes discriminating practices between the have’s and the have not’s.

Late night talk show host Jimmy Kimel entered the health care debate after his newborn son had to receive open heart surgery and he realizes that if he wasn’t so well off financially, his infant son wouldn’t have received the same quality of care, and there is something inherently wrong with that. We live in the richest nation in the world, yet can’t come up with a method that provides equal and adequate health care for all? The truth is that we choose not to by continuing to allow pharmaceutical manufacturers and health insurance conglomerates that make hundreds of billions of dollars in profits dictate the rules to the game. I’m sure those same companies can still do their research, provide adequate health care to all while continually earning enough to provide for a luxurious lifestyle.

Or could it be it wasn’t the health care issue, but a distraction from this Russian investigation? President Donald Trump is exposing how the laws in America are applied differently based on who you are. Being a guest of the federal criminal justice system for the past 13 years, I’ve witnessed and experienced what little evidence is needed for a successful criminal indictment. Government officials have been caught lying under oath and changed their stories after their lies have been exposed. The FBI director in charge was fired by the President who was under FBI’s investigation.

This Russian debacle isn’t a republican or democrat issue, it’s an American one and it would be hypocritical to lay all the blame on the Russian government for succeeding in the manipulation of our elections. Let’s not forget when the Palestinians held democratic elections and the leaders of Hamas won. Instead of respecting the rights of the Palestinians choice, regardless if we agree with them or not, the United States chose to physically put in place a government and president of their choosing, not of the people.

But the problem here in America is that those in the Trump administration, prior to him being President, actively sought help from a foreign government to gain an advantage in our American elections, which is treasonous. That’s been admitted to by Donald Trump Jr, after months of denying that any meetings with Russians took place once that meeting was exposed.
How deep does that rabbit hole go? We have yet to know, but if there was half as much evidence in a regular criminal conspiracy, because this is what it is, not a collision it’s a criminal conspiracy that would have seen swat teams deployed kicking down doors, assets being frozen and anyone who knew anything being charged with a statue that carried a mandatory minimum sentence to force them to talk regardless of the role they played. This double standard of the law is just what it is and nothing new.
Who knows’s what’s going to come of this Russian investigation, the racial discussion from the NFL protest, health care or the two psychotic egomaniacs both threatening nuclear global destruction? Only God.
As chaotic as the world appears, I never lose sight of the fact that life is based on a Universal spiritual system. That’s difficult for many people to comprehend, especially in the violent conditions of a Penitentiary where your faith and goodness of life and God is constantly under attack.

But I’ve long ago learned the secret power of not having to prove myself right, admitting when I’m wrong and accepting that I don’t know the answer to a lot of things. Yet I do know that God is all there is so regardless of how divided America or really humanity as a hole may appear to be, there is an inseparable unity that we share which is the Divine energy of life. That’s the first fundamental principal I try to keep at the forefront of my mind, which isn’t always easy when interacting with gang members or correction officers who don’t recognize the divine essence within themselves.

I’ll admit it took a lot of work and spiritual soul contemplation to expand my conception, detaching myself from what appears to be and trusting in God’s overall plan. I know that sounds a bit cliche, but my faith and conviction of God has given me the ability to accomplish far more then when I felt I had to do this life thing on my own. So regardless of how much political turmoil there is, don’t loose faith in your higher power and rely on your spiritual relationship more, that may be the reason things seem so chaotic on the outer world, from failing to recognize the divine essence of life which we all share within.

Gangster Turned Guru

#gangsterturnedgurupresents

#voiceforthesilentfathers

#puertorico

#Kaepernick

#currentevents

 

“I’m Glad Trump Is President!”

There hasn’t been a day of this year where I didn’t have the urge to shoot off my opinion about the ramification and the underlying meaning of what President Trump brings to the table.  At first, I was disappointed, especially in my current position as a federal inmate.  The momentum of the prison reforms in an attempt to correct draconian mandatory minimums laws that were put in effect back in the 80’s came to a sudden halt.  Although I wasn’t a Hillary supporter since it was Bill Clinton’s administration and Joe Biden’s articulate drafting of the mandatory minimum laws that continue to disrupt communities across America, they did attempt to right the wrongs of the past with the Fair Sentencing Act (the name in itself reveals just how unfair it was) by supporting the Obama’s administration’s criminal justice reforms.  That was really my only issue as far as who won the Presidency.

Once Bernie Sanders, who was my preferred candidate, got cheated, I knew the fix was in.  That fix happened on both sides, so who could really be mad?  I’m actually glad that Trump is our president, and when I said this to my mother in the visiting room triggering the rage that’s been eating her from within since the November results, her eyes got watery, and her face turned red with a volcanic fury, gripping my arms, digging her nails into my flesh intending to draw the blood of her only son. Glaring her squinting blue eyes, slowly shaking her head through clenched teeth she said, “How dare you say that to me!”

My mother was a hippy, who’s been marching for civil rights since the sixties so she lives and dies for that love, peace, and happiness movement.  She’s a white woman who in 1969 married my father, a big strong bald headed black man when interracial marriage was still ILLEGAL in some southern states of America.  Just because interracial marriage was legal in New York, it didn’t stop a local racist from attempting to burn a cross in my parents’ front lawn.

That was one of the proudest stories she told me about my father, catching the ignorant fool in the act and my dad beating the shit out of him.

My mother raised two black children on her own in an all white community, suffering her share of racist insults like being called a nigger lover.  Derogating stares, humiliating whispers behind her back but loud enough for her to hear, while walking by with my three year old sister, holding her hand and cradling me, a new born on her opposite shoulder keeping her head held high, ignoring the hurtful taunts, that in those days people felt way too comfortable expressing.

The strength and fortitude my mother displayed to change the world that my sister and I grew up in was always evident. Taking us to marches protesting nuclear facilities, demonstrating for women’s rights, painting our faces with flowers and peace signs to spend out childhood Saturdays, walking with thousands of people for whatever cause my mother felt needed to be addressed, was normal for my sister and I growing up.

Jean Wright was grooming me to be the first black President, after a revelation she had when she took me to the 20 year anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s march on Washington.

Although she loves President Obama to the point that she’s probably on some governments watch list of those willing to martyr themselves for his cause, she resents him just a little for taking my spot.  But it wasn’t Obama’s fault, I was a rebellious confused teenager that took to the streets.

When I explain to my mother the politics of living in the Penitentiary, between the different races, gangs, and religious groups, most of the time I’m able to equate the same or similar issues to the outside world.  When I’ve shared certain situations where I’ve had to intervene by resolving a peaceful solution, she’s proud that I’m finally channeling mementos of the political ambitions from her vision she had while standing with me bare foot, knee high in the Washington memorial reflection pool.

For me to support Trump in any manner was a betrayal, the kiss of Judas in my mother’s eyes.  As she released her imprinting nails in order for me to explain why I would make such a cruel statement, I asked her to breathe and calm down while I explained my train of thought.

President Donald Trump has removed the veil that a big portion of this country has hidden behind for years.  Now that he’s so boldly put out there what many of us have known, but couldn’t prove without sounding like a conspiracy theorist or bitter fools, is the reason I’m glad he’s president.

Trump exposed how easily people can be manipulated and controlled by ignorance, fear, and anger.  There was no doubt in his display of insolence for women, blatant racist remarks and overtly prejudice policies, that he planned to implement once he was in the office he now occupies.

President Donald Trump is not the problem and he’s defiantly not the solution.  He represents a time of a not so distant past that he camouflaged in his campaign slogan “Make America Great Again.”  Donald Trump is nothing more than a reference point, an indicating marker of the type of character that appeals to enough voters to get him elected.  That in and of itself reveals a lot more to me than anything he can say or do and that’s why I’m glad he’s President.  The power is in the people and like it or not, the people have spoken!!

But now my dear reader, what are the people saying?   Eight months in and it’s scandal after scandal, some are just distractions from what’s really going on of course.  Look how close we came to losing the Affordable care act, and more importantly look who saved it, Republican Senator John McCain.

Quick side note: Why is it that we have Universal health care for prisoners but can’t figure a way to provide it for every other American?  Better yet, why is it always the lack of money which seems to be the excuse for not saving peoples lives but there is an unlimited about spent on bombs and weapons of war to kill people?  But let me get back to this topic.

I’ve hesitated on writing politically because so many people are already doing it and I’ve somewhat detached myself to try to stay focused on the bigger picture with my spiritual perspective with all things.  When I said to my mother, “God must have wanted Trump to be president”, I saw that her faith and belief in an all loving God begin to falter, and that’s the last thing the Gangster Turned Guru intended to do and what inspired me to write this piece.

Currently, there are protests over Confederate statues, some for them and some against them.  Donald Trump made it perfectly clear where he stands on the issue.  Who’s surprised?  I’m not.  It’s comical when the argument is made that the Confederacy is part of our history, which is true, but a statue or a confederate flag is honoring that history.

Why is it that Germany doesn’t have statues of Hitler in state parks or streets and colleges named after him?  Is Adolf Hitler not part of Germany’s history?  Why is it that there is only one African American museum dedicated to the history of slavery, yet there are over 50 museums dedicated to the Holocaust that didn’t even take place in America, well the Jewish holocaust didn’t but the American Indian holocaust did and I’m not even sure what the number of holocaust museums dedicated to that atrocity is, if any at all.  What about that history?   The Confederate flag, statues and all that the Confederacy represents is a silent acknowledgment and honoring of an institution of oppression which still exist, although it’s cleverly veiled from most.

Many thought that the institution of oppression was gone once Barrack Obama got elected, but those that are really conscious couldn’t be lulled back to sleep so easily, but enough of us were.

It’s still a shock to some that Donald Trump is the president, but his presidency is not a mystery to me.  This experience of Trumpism is necessary for our countries unfoldment in representing who we are.  The spirit of one’s character is revealed in one’s personality.  The protesters marching, CEO’s resigning from Trump’s cabinets and Republican Senators speaking out against their own party all reflect a unifying indication of morals and principals that this concept of America is supposed to represent.

We are one nation under God and the collective consciousness of our Nation will attract the experience to match the predominant mental attitude of our ideas.

To think that an eight year Obama administration would wipe clean the slate of the effects and consequences over two hundred years of institutionalized oppression has caused, is idiotic.

So when I told my unconditional loving mother that I was glad Trump is president, it’s not because I believe in any of his policies or the character he’s displayed, it’s that he continues to inadvertently reveal the core mental attitude of an overwhelming portion of this country.

Unlike my mother, I’m able to maintain my peace of mind with Donald Trump being President, mainly because I never lose sight of the fact that we come from One God who’s ultimately in control and allowed Trump to be President for a reason.

Listen, I’m the first to admit that I’ve disagreed with the way God has done things a number of times in my life, but looking back from who I was to who I am now, I’m able to recognize the infinite Source of life was always in control.

President Trump is the ultimate wake up call, for those that have eyes to see and ears to hear.

We each have a personal responsibility to respond accordingly.  By maintaining positive, peaceful, constructive thoughts we’ll attract the experience that reflects our inner mental attitude.

God is good, which means there is always more good than bad in people.  Not only in Donald Trump because he is just one man, but also the abundance of good in the ones he represents.  There is always a silent power behind all things that attract the results of our thoughts and ideas.  So, if our dominate inner attitude is to be at peace, more harmonious with all people, not just Democrats or Republicans, but with humanity as a whole, reflecting that helpful, joyful nature, then by the year 2020, we should be cheering “Michelle Obama for President!!”

Eddie K. Wright, AKA The Gangster Turned Guru.

Sister/Publisher Mimi Here…

I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from Author Eddie K. Wright or myself but let me assure you that he has been hard at work on his next release “Gangster Turned Guru Presents: The Evolution of A Gangster Turned Guru!” As I’m reading through his next book, I’m often amazed at the memories my ‘little’ brother sparks in my mind! Memories of a childhood where we shared every experience while at the same time experienced life so differently!

Most of the memories bring a smile to my face and an uncontrollable laugh to my belly. Some bring a tear to my eye and a lump of sadness in my throat.  Others then give me a clearer understanding of why I do some of the things I do as a parent.

After reading a part of the chapter titled:  “The Beginning” I was filled with a sense of peace regarding a decision I made as a new mother that I KNOW was a direct result of my mother’s belief system!

I’m not saying I had the best discipline rituals with my boys (now aged 16, 18 and 19 with no behavior problems) but… Before I gave birth to my first child I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would NEVER ‘beat’ my children.  I made it very clear to my (ex) husband that neither would he or anyone who came in contact with my children.

Now I know why…

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…My childhood years were spent growing up in the suburbs of Smithtown Long Island where I realized early in life, I was on the ‘only’ list for a number of things. We lived on Twilight Lane where my sister Mimi and I were the ‘only’ kids without a father living at home. We were the ‘only’ black population in this town and probably for the next two towns over so Mimi was always over protective, being three years my senior. I was the ‘only’ one who had a sister who beat up the strongest boy on the block. We were the ‘only’ ones who’s hair little white kids were asking to touch like exotic animals that they previously read about and actually were able to pet.

When my mother would drop me off at school, I was the ‘only’ one asked by other kids if I was adopted and looked upon with such disbelief when I answered: “No, that’s my real mom.”

“But she’s white and your black” was the all too familiar response.

This was another subject added to the ‘only’ list. My sister and I were the ‘only’ mixed kids. Even the other two or three minority children at school had both parents of the same ethical background.

My mother was raised Irish Catholic in the same house we grew up in, nurtured in the hippie generation of love, peace, and happiness. She did her best to create a loving environment by herself from when my sister was three and I was just two months old. That’s when she finally had the strength to choose to change the direction of her life for the best by divorcing my father who I only saw a few weeks out of the summer. But even with such a limited time shared with him, he was still my hero. Big, strong, bald and black as the night. He always made me feel like I was the light of his world when my sister and I would visit him eight hours away in Rochester, NY.

I loved my summer vacations when spending time with my father’s side of the family and although I still felt some of those ‘only’ list effects, it was a different type of ‘only’. Now I’m the ‘only’ one with such good hair or the ‘only’ one with such a nice red bone complexion.

When living with my mother it was always a struggle for her to make ends meet and compared with everyone else in our town, we were considered pretty poor. But up in Rochester, I experienced what real poverty was like. Not so much with my father who had a good job and a decent place to live, even if it was for a period of time in a trailer on the grounds of the industry juvenile prison where he worked as a guard. It was when he took us to our grandmothers in the city or any one of my 18 aunts and uncles houses, that at a young age I realized how much my mother provided on her own.

In all our years of visiting my father, my sister and I were only allowed to stay over my favorite Aunt Linda’s house because she was married to my Uncle Eddie who together provided a beautiful home, was successful, heavy into the church and the only one who gained my mother’s trust.

My mother’s wrath concerning her kids was well known as my father once made a crucial mistake when he got an unexpected call into work when I was five years old and left me in the care of some girlfriend he had. At the end of the day, around 4:30 p.m. he pulled up to the curb and found me sitting on the front porch, bottom lip puffed out, eyebrows scrunched together and my arms wrapped around my chest. He knew something was wrong.

Normally, when he comes home from work, as soon as he steps out of his van, I’m running arms outstretched to be picked up, hugged and covered with a barrage of kisses. As I stomped towards him, chest rising from my deep pouts he asked: “Eddie what’s wrong?”

The floodgate of tears took over as I started breathing faster, trying to get the words out to express the cardinal sin that had taken place.

“Son,” he said bending and lifting me giving a reassuring hug. “It’s all right just tell me what happened.”

Placing me back down, I looked up with my light brown tear filled eyes and said “She whipped me with a switch!” pointing my accusing finger towards the house.

Whether it was panic, fear or both I don’t know. I don’t even remember what it was that I did and my father didn’t care. All I recall was that he stormed into the babysitter’s house raising all hell and no matter what justification she gave for whipping me with a switch, my father wasn’t trying to hear it. All I heard him yelling was ” When his mother finds out she’s going to kill me!!”

On my fathers side of the family, seeing my cousins get in trouble and being told to go out back and get a thin branch off a tree to make into a switch to get beat with was normal, but it was a well known fact that no matter what my sister or I did, we are not to be physically disciplined by anyone, my father included.

For my mother to hear that her five year old baby boy was beaten with a switch, would produce images in her mind of me being strapped up and whipped like the man in the beginning of the movie Roots. Mom enforced a non-violent, unconditional loving environment which she expected to be honored…

~Eddie K. Wright

I remember people throughout my young parenting years (INCLUDING MY BROTHER) telling me… “You need to spank/beat him.” Or, “One good whoopin’ will fix that little attitude.”  I’m honored to say that I stood behind my mother’s style of discipline in this regard.  My children have never known what it felt like to be hit with a switch, a stick, a spoon or a belt.  I firmly believe NO CHILD needs that kind of discipline.  My children prove that to me every day!  I’m not the greatest mother and they are not the perfect children but… but we are perfect for each other and physical violence was NEVER a part of our lives!  Thank you Ma!  I love you!  Thank you Ed… For reminding me!

Thank you for reading.  You’ll be hearing more from Eddie very soon!

Big Sister Mimi

Feature Spotlight in P.A.R.C. Mag

Click cover to follow to my interview



I was honored to be interviewed by KC Loesener, CEO, and founder of P.A.R.C. Magazine.  

Their July 2017 issue is highlighting discovery and focus’ on subject matters where others have dug deep and discovered something about themselves and overcame or brought certain challenges to light.

My book Voice For The Silent Fathers shares how I overcame my personal challenge of being a young father and street gangster who’s son was gay. 

Please take a few minutes to read the article and share with anyone you know might benefit from reading it. I would also love to hear your thoughts so please leave a comment. 

Click to purchase my book

MAKING A CHANGE STARTS FROM WITHIN!

It’s all about how we think, how we respond and how we learn!

CLICK HERE TO READ ABOUT MY PERSONAL TRANSFORMATIONS:

VOICE FOR THE SILENT FATHERS:  MEMOIR

AVAILABLE IN E-BOOK $9.99 AND PAPERBACK $16.99

A DAY IN THE LIFE WITH COFFEE AND PARADISE

AVAILABLE IN E-BOOK $.99

 

#VOICEFORTHESILENTFATHERS

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#EDDIEKWRIGHT

 

AVAILABLE NOW: Gangster Turned Guru Presents:

“A Day in the Life with Coffee and Paradise”

I am currently an inmate in a Federal Prison serving my 12th year of a 45-year sentence!  If I can find peace and happiness in this type of environment… How is it that people in the ‘free’ world can’t? What is it that I know or what woke me up? I’ve been asked these questions thousands of times and now, following a conversation I had with an inmate, who’s asked these and more,  I’m ready to share my thoughts on what I’ve learned with YOU!

This E-Book is available exclusively for Kindle at Amazon.com for .99. (FREE July 27 – 31, 2016)

I look forward to sharing my insights with you!

#gangsterturnedguru

#voiceforthesilentfathers

Gangster to Guru Presents…

As I prepare to release the introduction to my Gangster to Guru series, this quote was presented to me. A simple 17 words states the thought process that has allowed me to become ‘free’ even though I’m incarcerated!  

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#voiceforthesilentfathers

#comingsoon