ON THANKSGIVING DAY, while my ma stuffed herself at the house of a great-aunt I couldn’t stand, I secretly moved into The Haven of Christ’s Temple Second Baptist Women’s Shelter on Halsted Street. It was one of the only places I called where you didn’t have to be a ward of the state or hiding from some man who was trying to kill you; you had to be a pregnant or parenting runaway, so on Thanksgiving morning I decided to run away. I called and found out that I would only have to stay in weekly contact with at least one person I knew. I also had to attend “home-school” in a group conference room because I didn’t have a diploma yet. A woman named Gladys told me there were no beds, but I prayed if I showed up pitiful enough there might be a couch. While I helped Ma with the last of six sweet potato pies, I feigned a stomachache to get out of going to dinner with family who didn’t care much about me and my life anyway. Then as soon as Ma was gone I left her a note telling her I was safe, I was going to live somewhere for girls my age and would call her later. Just that simple—there was no need to be confrontational. Rasul helped me catch a cab and carry all I owned in there: my boombox, cassette tapes, schoolbooks, shoes, hair stuff, and three garbage bags of clothes. I paid for the cab out of the money I had stolen. 8984 S. Halsted would be my place to call home until I could do better.

I was greeted by a stocky Black woman who reminded me of the Big Mama at New Horizons, only she had lighter skin. Framed by the light of a wide doorway, she shot Rasul a look above folded arms, letting him know he could leave. I almost didn’t dare wave back at him. She looked down at me from the top step and bellowed, “Well I don’t see no baby so you must be pregnant.” She held open the screen with one hand while another sat on her hip. A big-boned woman, her generous hips could barely inch through the doors. They grazed each and every door frame we walked through. I followed her without saying a word. I would later learn this was Gladys, the oldest sister and the one who had gotten this place started.