Abstract
As a teen in Los Angeles, in extremely violent neighborhoods, I never would have imagined living long enough to see my 27th birthday, let alone attending Cal. I feel extremely fortunate to be at a prestigious institution of higher learning because I have spent so much of my life in carceral institutions.
Losing my mother and grandmother at the age of 10 weighed heavy on me. I was full of anger, frustration, and abandonment. Hindered by poverty, I turned to drugs as an escape and joined a gang at 13. Childhood trauma and a lack of support negatively impacted the way I navigated life. For many like myself we lost our innocence at a young age and were robbed of our childhood. The gang life was a public facade masking my private desperation for a sense of belonging.
My life revolved around death. I lost many friends to gang violence, many of whom were like brothers to me. I think about them every day; their absence brings great sorrow because they had so much to give in this world. My close friend was murdered in San Bernardino a few hours after I spoke with him over the phone. He was leaving an establishment when they shot him on his way to his car. Then if things couldn’t get any worse my close friend who lived with me was shot outside my driveway leaving to go see his son. I found him on the next block over hiding, wedged in between two cars. I ran towards him as he sat in his own pool of blood. He bled in my arms then later he was pronounced dead in the hospital. Many friends I grew up with were killed weeks and months after, it was like a domino effect. These experiences resulted in lasting psychological effects. I try to block it out because it is easier not to think about it. As I got older I realized when one does not their transform pain, one ends up transmitting it. My unaddressed trauma reflected in being violent towards others, which became my coping mechanism. This seemed to be an everyday occurrence for individuals like myself that grew up in the hood. So much so we begin to normalize them.
My aim was simply to survive. Faith and paranoia kept me alive. At the same time, life never felt real. Over and over, I saw those close to me improve their situation only to see them end up dead. I continue to ask myself, “why them and not me?” Where I come from, the epitome of success is “I got out the hood.” Of course, one can only get out of the hood if one manages to stay alive long enough. But even then, when is anyone safe?
The gang functioned in my life the same way that a family teaches its young the norms, skills, values, beliefs, and traditions of the larger society and the ways to communicate and reinforce that culture. I was ready to die or do a life sentence for my neighborhood. I have been shot at countless times, to the point it doesn’t even scare me. One day I recall walking home with two friends. As we turn the corner from my house we were approached by a minivan when a guy jumps out and shouts “where you from” as I responded he replied in confusion. In anger I walk towards him and repeat myself louder. Instantly he cocks back his automatic weapon and furiously tries to shoot at me. Instead of being scared we make fun of each other on who was scared. I made many bad decisions growing up which resulted in incarceration. While incarcerated I witnessed many acts of violence. I have seen riots, stabbings, gruesome bloody fights, and suicides. I recall sitting one day at the chow hall when a correctional officer approached me and asked, “what are you in here for?” I stood quiet and kept eating mainly for two reasons: we don’t talk to cops and we only have few minutes to eat. He repeated himself and other folks urged me to respond to him I remained quiet. The officer grabbed my plate, through it away and took me outside and punched me a few times for being a smart ass. I desperately tried to find ways to escape this violent lifestyle, but I did not know how.
Through these painful experiences, I was introduced to Homeboy Industries (HI). HI is a nonprofit and the largest gang rehabilitation and reentry program in the world founded by Father Greg Boyle. Were it not for my will to transform my life and my relationship with Homeboy Industries, I would likely be dead too. At my brother’s funeral in 2015, I ran into Father Greg, with whom I had spoken several times before. He asked me where I had been, and I responded, “watching my family and friends die.” Upon my most recent release from jail in 2016, I decided to place my needs over those of my gang. I called Father Greg, and my life changed.
Father Greg put me in touch with resources like educational and mental health counseling. This was a pivotal point where I surrendered to allow myself to receive mentorship. The more time I spent with my educational counselor, the more seriously I took school. I also learned to ask for help, and how to devote my life to intellectual pursuits. I eventually earned a spot on a study abroad trip to Oxford University in England. An opportunity like this typically does not happen to an individual who comes from my background. In collaboration with HI, we raised the $10,000 necessary to get me to Oxford where I visited several countries, got a 4.0, and made the most of my experience. This showed me that education can put me in a position of opportunities and personal growth. Education has empowered me with a new sense of direction that is positive and purposeful.
I currently advocate for marginalized men of color on campus, focusing on mental health support. I am a NavCal Mentor—where I support marginalized students at Berkeley. I teach my students through a together approach that nothing must be done alone. I am also a Berkeley Underground Scholar, where I engage the Cal community openly about my formerly incarcerated status to help demystify the pathways to success at Cal. I want to be a resource for those getting out of prison and contribute to the prison to college pipeline.
I am taking steps to obtain my Ph.D. in sociology, and to continue empowering my community as a college professor, while also addressing and eradicating the oppressive structural conditions. I have seen family and friends meet their demise much too early and much too violently. Those bullets just as easily could have hit me. I chose long ago to help my community pull themselves out of violence as well as break the cycle of incarceration. I work to be aware of what is going on in the world and value the importance of education, voting, and advocating for change, especially in my community. I want to be a role model for that individual that doesn’t believe they can achieve their dreams. It’s never too late to go after what you want in life.