The Escapism of Music in "It's in the Words We Give"

This true-life story is a repost from our sister site, Our Life Logs®

Editor’s Note

This is the story of C.A.M. as captured by the team at Our Life Logs. The following is brought to you in partnership with Guitars Over Guns, and organization that aims to change the lives of disadvantaged students through music and strong, consistent mentorship. We hope you check them out!


It's in the Words We Give

So, I was born in Chicago in 1989 as the youngest of seven. Yep. With that many siblings, you know it was something different every day. One moment you’re tight and the next you’re in an argument. Really. I remember one of my brothers who DJed throughout the night would come home early in the morning after a gig, never trying to be quiet or anything, and just simply tell me, “Get up and do what you gotta do before I get home.”

Little C.A.M.

Our house on 69th and Winchester in Chicago, was always best in the summertime. We’d have these huge block parties. A couple guys would man the grill with the burgers and tips while the rest danced to the music my dad threw on the turntables. I would weave through the adults with all the other kids, and we’d have a barbecue and lemonade and we’d just party together.