Shout Outs to the Lil' Sistas

SHOUT OUTS TO THE LIL’ SISTAS

JOHNNIE RUTLEDGE

An Urban tale for

young teen readers ages 12-16

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 by Johnnie Rutledge (rev. 2011)

Published by The Phyllicia Publishers

Smashwords License Statement

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

(Dedicated to the late Mrs. Carolyn O. Smith whose legacy remains an enduring example of scholastic and youth leadership. She was the former principal of Ft. Lauderdale, S.D.A. District school in Ft Lauderdale, Florida)

(Also dedicated to all the lil’ sistas trying to find their way.)

Table of Contents

• Chapter One: The Sista Hood

• Chapter Two: Comin’ Home With Daddy

• Chapter Three: Back ‘en the Day

• Chapter Four: Meet My Crew

• Chapter Five: School Daze

• Chapter Six: Big Sis’capades

• Chapter Seven: Worked Up Daddy

• Chapter Eight: It’s A Doll’s Life

• Chapter Nine: Takin’ Care of Baby

• Chapter Ten: Startin’ To Sink In

• Chapter Eleven: Switch or Ruse

• Chapter Twelve: Missin’ In Action

• Chapter Thirteen: All’s Fair ‘en Love an’ War

• Chapter Fourteen: Restless Thoughts

• Chapter Fifteen: Facin’ the Music

• Chapter Sixteen: Getting’ ready for Graduation

• Chapter Seventeen: The Final Analysis

• About the Author

Chapter One

The Sista Hood

Hi. My name is Chelsea, Chelsea Justina Brooks to be exact. Most people call me C.J.

I guess C.J.’s cool. Actually, I really like it. I think its way cool. You know, cool to the max! Now that I’ve told you my name, I’ll look forward to learning yours, in the future of course.

That’s the great thing about technology; it allows people all over the planet to chit chat with each other.

I’m happy that today we’ll get a chance to do just that, at least for a while.

So now that I’ve introduced myself, I’ll take the liberty of sharing a ton of other stuff about yours truly.

I mean, don’t you want to know my vital stats?

Of course, or else I’d be Boring!!

Actually I should‘ve put the word in big, bold capital letters stenciled in red ink. Get my drift?

Knew you’d be feelin’ me! -for sho’!

But hold up a New York minute, ‘cause a sista needs to rectify, clarify, you know, straighten a lil’ some ‘em some ‘em!

Now jus’ ‘cause I said vital stats, don’t confuse this lil’ sista with not bein’ a strong, lil’ sista with worthwhile goals an’ a sense of direction. No hoochie mama here! Positively not!

See, I’m not talkin’ ‘bout whether or not the so called ‘’hot boys,’’ would give yours truly, a second glance or a full rewind.

Truth be told, a sista like me does have a knack for turning heads, at least those of the not so hot boys.

But hold up a minute, jus slow ya’ roll and flow with a lil’ sista for just a lil’ while. I already told you, this lil’ sis’ is not down with being trifling!

On the real, it’s like this y’all, I’ m saying that the hoochie mama syndrome is a fast track to being played, dogged, and tragically left behind. You say how fast? I’m talking in the blur of a dizzyin’ moment chil’.

Opinionated ? Think so? Well you bet cha’ Gee Willikers!

But slow ya’ roll, ‘cause like daddy’s always preachin,’ If you don’t stand for somethin’, you‘ll fall for anythang.

So hey, I got it honestly!

Speaking ‘bout daddy, that man should’ve been a drill sergeant!

Come to think of it, he was in the Army Reserves for a minute. But trust me, there ‘aint nothin’ reserved ‘bout daddy!

Anyways, we’ll talk about his ol’ folk’s ways, self later.

For now, it’s all eyes on (wah) me. Remember earlier when I started in on the thing about vital stats?

Well let’s go there.

Twelve! This lil’ sista’s all of twelve an’ pushin’ thirteen! If I were Jewish, I’d be preparing for Batmitzvah right about now. It’s a rite of passage for a Jewish girl on her thirteenth birthday.

At thirteen, she becomes a daughter of the law.

Let me break it down to ya’ Boo! See, it’s a long held custom, a tradition. It’s a social and religious thing.

That marks a Jewish girl’s newly found recognition into womanhood. Imagine, her people are givin’ her props at thirteen!

I’m not talkin’ about how she is suddenly set free, to do whatever she thinks she’s big ‘en bad enough to do.

I’m talkin’ bout bein’ nurtured, groomed and prepped to make solid steps into early adulthood. Talk about bein’ shown some love?

It gives her an expected responsibility to walk in the, right way.

I sho’ wish we lil’ sistas had a proper, formal rite of passage into young adulthood. We, like anybody else needs some loving folks’ pointing us in the right way!

It could be religious, or even socially respectable. It could be anything as long as it’s positive!

Looking through the lenses of my life, all I see are too many of the lil’ sista’s fallin’ further behind. What’s goin’ on? There’s gotta be a Marvin Gaye song in there somewhere!

Seems like everybody’s following fast, behind the latest twisted fads. Insane? You betcha’ Gee Willikers chil’!

In the neighborhood, it seems we’ve been sold on, Just do it!

Well, too many lil’ sistas’ doin’ it, and they’re endin’ up with catastrophic results.

Too many are gettin’ bamboozled into believin’ that this insanity is normal. Those who do, are bein’ sold a waking nightmare of endin’ up with their precious lives devastated, an’ left behind. Well so much for the farce of no chil’ left behind! Who told us, there would be no chil’ left behind?! In my neighborhood it seems we sho’ never got the word!

Daddy’s always complainin,’ that it seems that every other commericial’s tellin’ us to do somethin’ radically life endangerin’? He swears that it’s usually through music, sex and/or some swelled headed rappers’ two cents worth’a lyrics. It sets me to thinkin; why are we bein’ targeted an’ pushed into doin’ something morally destructive? In my own mind, I ask who’s irresponsible enough to be sponsorin’ these televised, an’ airwaved weapons of mass destruction? I fear that even my martian dad may actually have a good point. It seems that the problem is, we lil’ sistas, jus’ doin’ it, and it’s eating our precious lives away like rot.

It’s like our lives are on a road to bein’ wrecked before we begin.

How you say? Atleast you’re startin’ to feel me. Feelin’ me means you are botherin’ to hear the words that are comin’ outta my mouth, as Chris Rock would say. Now, you feelin’ me? Anyways, I’d argue half our problems are based on slick ads that shout out self destructive hype in our fertile ears 24/7.

My dad says that we, the lil’ sistas are being brainwashed into believin’ that others must tell an’ define for us, what we should consider to be cool, hot, or hip! Mrs. Wales told the class that the constant ads we see an’ hear are called mass mediated texts.

My dad says that people who truly don’t have our own best interests at heart, think that they have a right to tell us what we should need, and what’s ‘spozed to be important. I think we the lil’ sistas have falsely bought into this over hyped game. I think it’s because we feel a need to be in the so-called clique. It’s like we long to be a part of something we see as bein’ more important than our own undervalued selves. I ask myself, whether we lil’ sistas accept that mentality as cool, or hot? I say , Lord I pray not! Actually, I think it’s downright insane! It’s so insane, until we lil’ sistas seem to be ice cold when it comes to shutting out the negative hype. I fear, we are bein’ bamboozled in