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Hood Scholar - Bryan Holloman
Drugs, Death, and Scholarships
*Some names and incidents have been changed in this book to produce a flowing story line, and also to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.
"I brought back to the hood,
and all you ever did was take away."
Tip
This book is outline in short synopses based on true stories about my life*, and how a subpar GPA transitioned me from the streets to a science laboratory. The book is written in vernacular English so readers can grasp more of a feel to my situation. Follow my journey through drug distribution, criminal activities, military achievements, and lastly a science laboratory. Along this journey you may run into errors
because it reveals my imperfections.
Nobody is perfect… Nobody has it easy, everyone has issues
Unknown
Table of Contents
Chapter 1. The First $5
Chapter 2: The GPA
Chapter 3: The Shot Heard Around the Hood
Chapter 4: Solid Gold Kitchen
Chapter 5: Enlistment
Chapter 6: The Double Up
Chapter 7: Drive By
Chapter 8: The War Against Terrorism
Chapter 9: Best Friend
Chapter 10: First Day in Jail
Chapter 11: College Acceptance
Chapter 12: On-line
Chapter 13: 808 and Heartbreak
Chapter 14: 180
Chapter 15. Graduation
Chapter 1. The First $5
I knew I wanted to be a scientist since second grade after watching Bill Nye the Science Guy. I used to run to the TV early Saturday mornings just to see and hear him connect kids with science. However, where I’m from, the option of being a scientist was slim to none. I was more likely to be a drug dealer or an inmate, so that’s exactly what I became—a drug dealer and an inmate! It took years to earn that orange jumpsuit, but what I did for it was worthy of a bar of soap, used worn down flip-flops, and a plastic coffee cup. The process of becoming an inmate started the summer before sixth grade.
See, we were only kids when we learned about the dope game. In my earlier years I ran across marijuana after finding my cousin Terry’s stash by mistake, but I thought it was cut grass until that hot steaming summer of ‘99…
I woke up from the sound of the doorbell. Who is it?
Ed replied, It’s Edmund!
Edmund was my best friend at the time. The smartest guy I’ve ever encountered in life. A principal-list student inducted in the gifted program since first grade. I opened the door, and I could see Jamel was standing beside Edmund, and both were grinning from ear to ear. What y’all niggas want?
Edmund: Bruh we got some weed from Lil Willie for $5.
Me: What the hell is weed?
Jamel reached in his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag with the damn cut grass I’ve seen in the past.
Me: Why the fuck would y’all spend $5 on some cut grass?
Edmund: Ha ha! This isn’t cut grass. It’s marijuana and you suppose to smoke it in a brown paper bag.
We all decided to smoke it not knowing the brown paper bag was actually supposed to be a cigar (major mistake). We walked around to Edmund’s house, where we discovered a Piggly Wiggly paper bag under the kitchen sink; we rolled the marijuana in the bag and headed to the park to smoke it. I still remember inhaling that combination of weed and paper bag, because it felt like I’d written my suicide note by how hard I coughed. Two months later we would find ourselves still smoking paper bags until we found out what a cigar was.
A couple months after school started that year, Edmund, Jamel, and I were sitting in the park when Lil Willie pulled up. He taught us the dope game, and by the time I left eighth grade I became an expert at selling ounces of marijuana biweekly. Selling marijuana was never a challenge, but trying to smoke and sell off only an ounce wasn’t working. Quickly we found out that we were only making enough money to re-up, plus with Lil Willie pinching off the sack, we had no choice but to find a better connection with more weight. We could’ve gotten a better deal by using Lil Leroy as the middleman, but he never stayed in one spot too long so it was hard to keep up with him.
I was getting tired of Lil Willie’s antics. Every day we had to deal with getting shortchanged on packs, and we constantly dealt with his bullying. On this particular day, I had enough. I was running a fever but