Today we’d like to introduce you to Keishanna Jones.
Keishanna, before we jump into specific questions about your work, why don’t you give us some details about you and your story.
My name is Keishanna Jones and I’m a comedian from Brooklyn, NY East Flatbush to be precise. I’m the oldest of six children, and I was raised by my Great-Grandparents. We were raised in church as my Great Grand Father was a Bishop and pastor. He died when I was eight years old and my life pretty much went to hell. My Great Grandmother was a widow with five children living on one income with no welfare and no help from our mother or fathers. I was forced to become an adult, way before my time. At the age of nine, I could stand on a chair and cook a full meal on my own.
Sadly after losing my Great Grandfather, my Great grandma, whom I called “Mama,” seemed to be dying of a broken heart. She became a closet alcoholic which left me to fend for myself and my brothers and sisters. I remember the one really rough week when Mama was pretty plastered, and my brother needed a haircut, we didn’t have any money, so I decided to cut it myself. I was nine years old at the time and did a terrible job. The following day before school started, I took him to the barbershop, which was about five blocks away from the house.
I took five dollars out of my mom’s purse to pay for his haircut. It was an old school shop and when I walked in, there was an older gentleman. Mama went to all the time. He had salt and pepper hair and he reminded me of Fred Sanford. I handed him the five dollars and said my brother needs a haircut. I was only nine but was grown by circumstance, and I was really sassy with my hair all over my head and when I spoke, my hands were on my hips and eyes rolling to let them know I mean business. He looked at the five dollars, gave it back to me, looked at my brother’s head and said: “who messed you up”?. He cut his hair for free.
In the midst of taking care of my siblings and dealing with Mama’s alcoholism, I was being sexually abused by a church friend. I never told anyone because he said he’d hurt my siblings if I do. Once his interest turned from me, I tried to run away. The first time I was 11, I will never forget it because it was the blizzard of 1996 that dumped over 35 inches of snow in the Northeast. My abuser had a pattern and I learned it. He would buy my Mama’s liquor to get her drunk that’s when he would hurt me.
I called a cab and stole money out of Mama’s purse to pay for it. I was not going to let my siblings get hurt the way I did. I remember I began failing in elementary and Mama was so disappointed in me academically, and she made sure to let me know as my brother was a stellar student. I was in pain so often that I couldn’t focus. I was always nervous about going home.
So I dressed my brothers and sisters that day while Mama was passed out. The snow was so deep we slid down the stairs when the cab came. The driver asked, “where’s your mom”? I was really grown and sassy and I said “look mister she stuck in the snow at work we gotta go to our aunt house” we used this particular cab service often so he obliged and took us.
I learned the way to my birth mom’s place in Queens using landmarks like Brookdale Hospital and the Holiday Inn to guide the way as I did not know all the street names at the time to guide the driver on where to go. I wanted to tell my mom, so we could live with her, but her boyfriend was there and she couldn’t believe what I did, coming in a cab alone with my siblings. She said to me, “mama gonna kill you”. If only she paid attention, she would have known I was already going through hell.
Mama called her God Daughter in Massachusetts and made her come pick us up. My plan didn’t work as I hoped it would. I remember sitting on the porch, rocking back and forth one day. One of our neighbors saw me and she started asking me questions. I remember telling that I was hurt. The very next day, we were taken away. It was a day I would never forget because it was my brother’s birthday. I remember feeling bad thinking that I ruined his birthday. My siblings were crying too, but I was happy that I wouldn’t get hurt anymore and he couldn’t hurt them. Our neighbor saved us that day and I will forever love her for being brave enough to speak on our behalf when we couldn’t.
When we got to light street that’s where you go when they lift kids, I was going to tell what was happening to me, but they didn’t know I was very hyper-vigilant. I overheard the officer say they would arrest Mama. When they came asking, I played crazy talking in a baby voice acting silly when really I was probably the most intelligent 12 years old they come across. They were taken back with how I snapped when they said they were splitting us up. I bargained with them. I remember the social worker saying I was too grown. But I won the boys stayed together and the girls stayed together.
We were later returned to Mama. She no longer drank. However, her health began to decline, so I became her caregiver keeping up with her doctor’s appointments, what medications she needed and talking to her doctors on her behalf. Shortly after, I began helping with the bills, hustling and getting jobs to help out, lying about my age. At 15, I was a telemarketer for a voice stream. It was my first job and I got it using a fake ID.
My birth mother had a 6th child Trey we affectionately named Lil Rock when I was 15. Although he lived with her, he spent a great deal of time with me. My mom was notorious for leaving him with me, which I loved, but she was struggling with her sobriety, so at 18, I took her to court to gain custody of him.
When I was 21, Lil Rock bounced back and forth between me and his dad. In 2010 I had my very first child, and in 2012 me and my then-husband affectionally known as “King” were granted permanent guardianship of my little brother. So as I was navigating motherhood, I was also raising my little brother.
In 2012, Lil Rock was diagnosed with stage 4 Lymphoma. I had survived so much up until this point in my life, but this was worse than any pain I had ever felt. I wanted to save Lil Rock. I knew what it felt like to want to be saved. All he wanted was a family and to eat dinner at the table. He had trauma too. He had to deal with our birth mother’s alcoholism, but alone. I at least had my four siblings. I won’t tell his story because he’s not here, but it was bad enough for a judge to take him from his two biological parents and place him with his sister and her husband.
It was hard to keep his spirits up and still deal with my birth mother and his dad. They made nothing easy on me, but I weathered the storm. With a really supportive husband, who took on the financial responsibility of insuring him so that he can see the best doctors, and being a dad to him when he was scared the most, all while we were both raising our first child. My birth mother was struggling with her addictions and I know now that the person she was during that time was sick. I since healed and have forgiven her, so I won’t list what she did or how she did. Just know she made me stronger, and for that, I thank her even in her absent support.
As for Lil Rock, he always did well in school. We inherited my birth mother’s intelligence. Mama always told us she was always an A student, that she was just a nuisance and comedian in class. All six of us have talents; writers, poets, musicians, rappers, singers and comedians and my brothers were always in gifted classes. So Lil rock being quite the scholar, was no surprise. He refused to quit he maintained his grades through his illness unto death. He taught my daughter who he loved dearly everything and she was a very extraordinary kid. I taught her at home and she began reading at 15 months. The doctors in the hospital would stop and watch in awe as I held up cards with words and she would read them and created sentences. I pretty much raised her in Westchester Medical Center as Lil Rock would get his treatments.
We loved each other, and people fell in love with us and our story. No one knew that Lil rock wasn’t our son unless we told them. We are a very close family and it was apparent he would confide in me as well as my husband at the time naturally. The diagnosis scared him and he was so smart he listened to the words the doctors were using and looked them up “benign” and “biopsy”, he said to me before we even had the official diagnosis. I’m a cancer and I have cancer. My heart just dropped and I was in the middle of a nasty court battle for guardianship. But I found the strength to battle them, protect him and mother my very first child.
I taught him strength because I too knew pain. I wouldn’t let him cry every day because that was familiar too, so we pranked each other to laugh together and lift ourselves up. We made skits in the hospital, we traveled and we loved! We shared it all on Facebook and people I never even met would send him gifts and cards and offer words of encouragement. Our story touched so many hearts. We were invited to the Make A Wish Foundation gala. No family had ever been invited before.
As he was dying, he asked me why he couldn’t have a mother and father that was normal. I remember when I was a kid, just wanting a mother and father to take me away. I was cautious when I answered. Then I remembered what Mama told me; “look that’s still ya mother the Bible says honor your mother and father and your days shall be longer,” and that’s what I said. Then I told him a few good memories I had of our birth mother as a child.
He loved our birth mother dearly and he was always worried about her. He always forgave her behavior, and he always wanted me to love and forgive her too. Before I knew it, it was like he had turned into a man right before my eyes. He was so skinny I could see every bone in his body. He vaguely resembled himself. He said, “Keishanna you’re a good mother to everybody”, and one day they’ll know that he was 14 years old. He said “thank you for taking care of me”. No one had ever thanked me before. I didn’t realize it until he said it. Not Mama, not my siblings, not my mother. But the one person in the world who deserved someone to walk through fire for him did. I just hugged him and we both drench each other’s backs. He said, “I love you can I be your son?” he asked me and King.
He yearned for a sense of belonging. He wanted to feel loved the way a mother and father should love their child. I imagine because what he was facing is scary for an adult. He couldn’t control that and neither could I. But I could most certainly love him as my son. And he needed that to be ok. I would’ve supported anything he wanted from me including if I could’ve just given my own life for his! I said of course with tears rolling down my face. I knew exactly what he was feeling. He said, “I know I’m dying, but I just want to have a family”. I told him I’d be honored, and sometimes when we were out, I would slip and say, “my brother,” and he’d correct me. My daughter still doesn’t know that’s her uncle, and I will always call him son like I promised!
He died September 29, 2015, In the living room in power. The last day he was on this earth King yelled “you hear me son?” and his ability to speak was gone. He was between heaven and earth, but he grunted and put his fist in the air. King taught him that. Don’t say mmm huh, don’t nod, let them hear you son, let them know your here son, hold your head up son, you’ll be a man one day and he honored the man King was in his life, in his last moment. Expressing affection the way they shared it.
I’ve seen King cry, but I’ve never seen him weep. The hospice nurse insisted she’d prepare his body, but we declined. We bathed his lifeless body together and I don’t think we’ve experienced anything that brought us closer than the saddest day in our lives. He made sure he had cologne, and he had his hat on the way he would wear it. I hated the fact that I had to call my birth mother with the news. Even though she put me through hell, my heart still aches for her. Despite my hurt, I imagine hers to be greater after just losing a child. My daughter didn’t really understand what was happening. The dogs were yelping and crying as King carried our baby’s body out the house with the mortician. He made sure the sun-kissed his face from the East one last time.
I was secretly losing my mind. I wanted to die for him. I just wanted him to live. He had been through so much he deserved that. I didn’t realize that was my first trigger. I couldn’t save him the way I desperately wanted someone to save myself.
In 2017 I moved to Georgia as my daughter was growing up in the shadow of her brother’s death and that was hard on all of us. It’s also when I debuted my comedy career as Keso Crazae Pronounced Key so cray-Zay at the Laughing Skull in Atlanta. I teamed up with some dope comedians, traveling spreading laughter, light, and love.
In November 2018, I began to have unexplained seizures. They tested for everything and couldn’t find the cause of it. I then went to my holistic consultant Rukaiyah Nsiaa Nurse Practitioner who has given me holistic and spiritual guidance over the last ten years. She asked had I been sexually abused in the past and that I buried that trauma deep in my mind.
In June of 2019, I was triggered and that caused a seizure. I was actively reliving my trauma intensely nonstop. I was having nightmares so bad I didn’t sleep for four days straight. I found my therapist who I picked solely because her name just gave me comfort; Kim Waters-Rose. She diagnosed me with complex post-traumatic stress disorder. When I learned the symptoms, I realized I’d had it my whole life. It crippled my mind. I was doing comedy and I had to stop, which made me feel like I was dying inside because I loved being on stage.
However, after my therapist began EMDR therapy and a watch night service preached by Pastor Christopher Wimberly of Hunter Hill Baptist Church in Atlanta, Ga. I got back on stage, I started putting shows together in different cities independently and most of all, I began telling my story, which leads to motivational speaking. See, I was bound to the secrets I kept. Even though the people who hurt me are now dead, I was still a slave to the trauma.
My thoughts were always so negative because of my trauma. I had no boundaries and although I exuded confidence, I secretly couldn’t think past the limits that were set for me. I began to speak life into myself as I laid on my closet floor. That’s where I hid as a child and it’s still my safe place. My abuse coming to light cost me so much. Imagine being hurt your whole childhood and then to continue being hurt as an adult because you finally told your truth.
I let it all go. I started to look in the mirror and talk to the nine-year-old me; she needed to heal too! You’re safe, you’re loved, you’re not a liar. The fear of people not believing you will make you stay silent. I was forced to tell a family member what happened to me, and what hurt was that they didn’t believe me. Another family member had to confirm it, which makes it feel like it’s happening again. That relationship was sadly lost. I love them still as healing is an individual experience. I learned from a wise older man Joaquin Cortez “If your family isn’t right for you, go out and find the right one!”
And so that’s what I did. I was finally free from the very thing that controlled me, and the path to freedom was lonely. Oh but this joy I have the world didn’t give it to me and the world can’t take it away. And because the people I loved could only see my faults, I had to let them go so that I could grow mentally and spiritually. I found a family in my friends, my coworkers, my patients, the children that I’ve watched grow up on my job. I share the love in my heart with everybody. I’ve volunteered at countless community events including the Children’s Miracle Network.
As for my friends, they rallied around me as I fought to stay present. I had the best coworkers in the world! We prayed together we cried together and some of them I’m bonded to for life because my truth made them speak their truth,and we’re healing together. Though CPTSD felt like a losing battle, I refused any and all medication and instead relied on herbs and EMDR therapy, which changed my life.
My therapist Kim was different. I had never been this vulnerable in my life and I have seen a therapist before but never connected. She was such a vibe, I called my aunt and asked: “can white folk sure Nuff have the Holy Ghost?” I didn’t see how I was going to stay sane reliving my horrors, but she trained me to think different; she taught me how to process my trauma and turn it into gas.
I never thought I’d hit the stage again and I planned on dying with my childhood wounds, but on Christ, the solid rock I stand! I get up ready for whatever comes next. I survived so much, I can’t give up now, I have a mighty work ahead of me. That’s how I talk to myself now. And no one has to believe it but me. So now I’m focused on leaving an impact on mankind. I actually believe in myself and my dreams now. I write them down, I say them out loud sometimes, I share, but most times I don’t. I can’t expect people to believe in what they can’t see, even if I already saw it. Pastor Christopher Wimberly told me “you can’t let blind people proofread your vision!”
My focus right now is a motivational speaking, comedy, and I just found out I’m a model. To whoever reads this, what I want you to take from this is, YOU are in control of you! Be mindful of the thoughts you have about yourself, and be mindful of how people make you feel. Don’t wait for anyone to tell you what to do or where to go. Sidney Poitier said, “When you walk with someone something unspoken happens. Either you match their pace or they match yours, whose pace have you adjusted too?”
Therefore I don’t congregate with people who have bad intentions or negative energy and they most certainly can’t keep up with my pace of love light and encouragement!
Meditate on what it is you want out of this life, and if you don’t know what that is, meditate on what you don’t want, and I guarantee you will find your way. You have the keys to endless possibilities in your mind unlock your potential. Speak life into yourself. Free yourself, Forgive yourself! Love yourself! And never be ashamed! “See shame will hold you captivated, and that’s to keep you distracted. I don’t have no more “HURT” time to spare. We manifesting Greatness over here”
Keso, Be encouraged, Be inspired, Be the best version of you.
Great, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
In the words of my favorite poet, “Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair,” I’ve certainly seen my share of valleys. But it has emboldened the victor in me!
So much so it has inspired the book I’m writing now entitled I’m still in there the love project.
We’d love to hear more about your work.
I bring joy. I’m here for the broken, the castaways. In all my work, I acknowledge them so that they may see there is light on the other side. I do this through comedy on or off the stage people who know me will tell you I’m real-life “crazy.”
After being diagnosed with CPTSD, somehow, I became courageous. And I was no longer ashamed of what happened to me for years I believe it was my fault. Now I look at my daughter the same ages I was when it began and I realize there was no way I had the reasoning to know it was wrong. And so now give me 2 or 3 people and I’ll stand on my soapbox and tell them joy really does one in the morning. I do that through motivational speaking.
I learned to love myself my friends would probably say obsessively. But that was the first thing I taught myself your beautiful. Then one day someone else said not only are you beautiful, but “your style is choice” and so came my first real modeling gig with Rodeoh. So now I can add modeling to my journey. Thanks, Rodeoh you have no idea what you did for me.
What I’m most proud of is fighting for my life. The odds of me being sane or even successful is slim to none, but “Now unto him that is able to keep me from falling”. Everyday I get up with a mind to succeed to leave and imprint on mankind that ignites healing to people like me all over the world!
Is there a characteristic or quality that you feel is essential to success?
Determination, prayer, mediation, repetition! Decide what you want out of this life no matter how hard it’s been. Pray on that in secret, then meditate. Every time your mind is free you should be meditating on it and REPEAT!
Watch doors open! That my recipe for overcoming soup!
Contact Info:
- Email: kesocrazae@gmail.com
Suggest a story: VoyageATL is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.
