Daddy's girl

By: Nicole ClarkMonica has worn the same necklace everyday for the past three years. And she wears the jewelry with pride.

Like many 11-year olds, Monica is full of energy and curiosity. She can be found bouncing from the drums, to guitar, to art, to sports at the after-school program she attends near her home in the Austin neighborhood on Chicago's West Side. She keeps her necklace hidden beneath her clothes most days to prevent it from getting in the way. But on occasions when she is asked about the necklace, Monica pulls out the long, sterling-silver-cabled chain with a matching silver cross pendant.

Although Monica's tall for her age and has grown several inches since she was first given the necklace, the adult-length measurement of the weighty necklace causes the cross pendant to hang low on her, just three fingers width above her belly button.

A gift from her father, Kenyatta Blan, for her 9th birthday, Monica has worn that "daddy's girl" title around her neck each day as a cherished keepsake.

In June, Monica turns 12. Unlike many 11-year olds though, she looks forward to more than new clothes and birthday cake. She's looking forward to seeing her daddy again. He promised he'd visit again on her birthday. The last time she saw Blan was in January, days after he was released from the Vandalia Correctional Center in Winnebago County.

According to records from the Illinois Department of Corrections, Blan was arrested on drug charges in April 2005 and sentenced to three years in prison. He was paroled in March 2006 but was back in prison on drug charges by June 2006.

Blan spent his first time in jail when he was 18, a year after he and Monica's mother, Tameka Lee, met in high school. Monica's parents have two other children, Monica's younger brother, Maurice and baby sister, Michelle.

For as long as Monica can remember, her father has been in and out of jail, serving time just weeks before she was born in 1995. Her memory of the exact month and year of her father's various incarcerations is sketchy, at best. However, ask her about the times when her daddy was there for her-like dinner at Denny's, trips to Rockford to visit family or when he gave her the necklace on her birthday-and she remembers the times and dates to the tee. Monica's childhood memories of her father may be marked by more prison visits than she'd like to remember, but she knows it hasn't always been like this.

At the age of 3, Monica remembers both of her parents taking her to the emergency room for minor burns after she'd stuck a bobby pin inside an electrical socket. The event was traumatic, but the memory is dear to Monica. Her parents, though never married, were together at the time, something she now realizes will never happen again. Monica remembers her parents being relieved when they knew she was going to be OK.

"They were happy at the time because I was OK and that made me happy because that means they care about me," Monica said.

Her most recent memory is days after her father's most recent release, when he stopped by for his first look at his new baby girl.

"He hadn't held a baby in a long time so he was holding her like this," Monica said, motioning stiff awkward arm movements, "like she was going to bite him. Then he said, 'You know me?' and I said, 'No she doesn't know you because she just met you!'"

A smile spreads across Monica's face when she thinks about this most recent visit with her father. Behind the smile though, she is concerned for her younger sister and wonders if she'll grow up to think her mother's newest boyfriend is "daddy."

For now, Monica holds on to Blan's promise to come visit again on her birthday in June; she's not sure if she'll see him before that.

"I'm always thinking about my daddy and what he's doing and I always get worried about him because he didn't used to do all this stuff," Monica said.

Her mother is less forgiving.

"I never stopped him from coming to see his kids," Lee said. "If he decides he wants to come see his kids, fine. If he decides he doesn't, that's fine too. It doesn't bother me. Like I told him, and I tell [Monica], it's not me, it's her father's choice to come and see her."

Monica is not fazed by her father's patterned past though. With the innocence of any little girl that loves her daddy, she still hopes for the best from him and continues to wear her beloved necklace. She dons the awkward chain around her neck everyday so that the next time she sees her father, he'll see the necklace hanging faithfully around her neckline and know that she hasn't given up on him.

"I put it back on when I found out my daddy was in prison again," Monica said. "I wanted him to know that I still loved him when he came to see me."


--------------

"Locked up"
--poem by Monica

Locked up behind bars; you can't see daylight you can't even see stars.

Locked up in a place that is lonely; the ones that you miss aren't your one and only.

Locked up arrested by cops; your only job is working with mops.

Locked up they won't let you out; no matter how much you scream, holler, or shout.

Locked up you say it doesn't matter; but when you get out all your dream just shatter.

Locked up you say it ain't true; but the one who's really locked up is all you.

You're locked up with nowhere to go; and you say to your self "say it aint so."

But it's true because it's you; now you sitin' up in there all down and blue.

He's locked, that man is gone; and just when you thought he was the only one.

He's locked up and you may feel sad; especially when that man is your dad.