Greetings Beat lovers! Another week, another Beat for you supportive readers and friends of our amazing publication. This week’s issue is no different, filled with lots of writings from our wonderful workshops, to the submissions that come in unsolicited. We are grateful to you all for believing in this journey and playing such an important role in our success. The last couple issues we have had the honor to showcase the writings from our friend, OT, in Managua, Nicaragua. This issue we continue with our dear friend and colleague who has played a major role in The Beat Within for nearly 20 years. OT!!
First off let me extend a warm embrace to all you ladies and gentlemen out there and I hope that you’re all doing well physically, spiritually and emotionally. This is OT reporting live to you all from Managua, Nicaragua the land of the grand Lakes and 99 degree temperature afternoons. Boy it’s hot right now, but I got my tall glass of cool water, and it’s about my fourth one today. I’m gonna go ahead and tackle one of our latest topics and see if I can deliver a cool message about staying solid.
I’m going to take a trip down memorylane and share with you all a bit about my childhood. When I was young, my mom, my parents, the adult figures in my life, didn’t allow me to make excuses. My grandma said it best, “Don’t leave something on your to-do list for tomorrow, that you can do today.”
When I was young, and I’m talking about 8 or 9 years old, maybe a young fresh faced 10 year old, I wasn’t a bad kid (just yet). Yeah, I was mischievous, loved to play sports like any kid at that age, basketball, baseball, football. I remember playing tackle football on the black top. I would play wide receiver and I was little, slim, skinny kid, but I was fast as hell. I’d love to run slant routes and cross routes and burn whoever was covering me and go for the touchdown as soon as I caught the pass.
I would go to school and do my homework at that young age. I was grasping knowledge. I was a young immigrant kid from Nicaragua, grabbing life by the horns like a Dodge Ram, chasing that American Dream by doing things the right way and studying. My family was poor, but we weren’t that poor to the point where we had no food.
It was twelve of us in a two-bedroom apartment. I remember I would sleep on the floor on a mattress with my Uncle Miguel. He was really short and stubby and every morning before waking up to eat my breakfast and get ready for school, he would put me in a wrestling move with his legs and try to get me to tap out. He would literally choke me with his legs and trap me and tell me that if I wanted to get up that I would need to beat him at wrestling. There were times I enjoyed wrestling with his ass, but there were times when I would get annoyed because I may have woke up a little late and I didn’t want to be late for school. It’s kind of funny now that I think about it. He’s pretty funny.
My two uncles both had jobs, my mom had a job as a janitor, my aunt worked at UCSF, and my uncle worked as a hotel manager I believe it was at the Marriott in downtown San Francisco, and he was also the manager for the Mission Theater in the Mission district. I remember we would pick him up from work every Friday and Saturday from the Mission Theater, and if the movies weren’t to packed we’d get to see one of the movies like The Terminator, or Cheech and Chong, or the latest Steven Seagal or Jean Claude Van Damme movie. We’d also watch “La India Maria,” which was about this Mexican Lady that was from Mexico. Maria would travel all over Mexico getting into trouble, and she would migrate to The United States, and the movie would document her funny exploits and circumstances of being an immigrant not understanding English.
Every time she would get in trouble, or the police would try to arrest her, she would always say her famous line, “I’m sorry, mi no speak English.” Even though I am not Mexican I could totally relate to the lady.
Me and my cousin who was a year younger than me, looked forward to picking up his dad from work. My Uncle Cesar, which is my uncle that’s married to my aunt (my Tia Cecilia, my mom’s sister) I can honestly say, he never treated me any different than his own son. If he took his son out to eat McDonald’s, I’m getting a meal too. Even after they closed down the Mission Theatre and my uncle was eventually fired, we’d continue the tradition of watching movies on Fridays, and Saturdays by renting movies from Hollywood Video or Blockbuster Video.
I remember vividly, even though we weren’t that poor and even though we didn’t have hella money he would always take us to the Walgreens, or Woolworth’s or the cheap toy stores in the Mission, and he would buy us each an action figure. Our family did the best they could considering the circumstances. Every summer we would all get in a van, and it would be me my cousins, my sister, all of my uncles my stepdad (which is my sister’s dad) my mom a few friends of the family, and we would all go to Great America every summer like 15-20 deep, if not once at least twice in the summer.
I remember The Rapids, was one of my favorite rides. You know the one with the wheel and it feels like you’re rafting, all the water shoots up and you get wet! I used to love the Grizzly, Drop Zone, Top Gun, Nickelodeon Gak City, all that stuff.
Now, that I look back on it, my childhood wasn’t as bad. I remember we used to get spanked a lot and we even got hit with these leather whips that they used to bring from Nicaragua called (coyundas). It was basically a whip with the light 8 leather strings. I think it was used for horses and stuff.
I used to hate getting hit with that whip because it hurt like hell. If we didn’t listen to anyone of our uncles, my aunt, my mom, or grandma, if we were acting up, or if we didn’t do our chores, best believe that whip would come out.
My childhood wasn’t just filled with all those Great America trips and Friday movie watching, there was a lot alcoholism, and domestic violence that I saw within my family. My step-dad would beat up my mom, but my mom would actually start it and hit him first, so the violence was two-way. There’d be violent fights between my uncles, my uncle vs my mom, my uncle vs my uncle, police would show up and someone would get beat up and someone would get arrested.
So not everything was peaches and cream. But like any family, everyone has fights. No one is perfect. I would hate to say that those events traumatized me because as impactful as they were, they didn’t. Those traumatic events that I witnessed wasn’t what made me join gangs or sell drugs. Those decisions were decisions I made, and I blame no one in my family. I don’t blame my dad, that was never there for me. I chose the street life because at the time, the streets were fun to me.
So, despite my struggles as an immigrant kid trying to find his way in life, I blame nobody for my actions. Even when I was in juvenile hall doing time, I never once blamed my circumstances, nor my family, nor my dad that was never there or my mom who worked all the time, that often left me unsupervised. When I went to prison, I didn’t blame the snitches, or the opps, or the haters, nor the cops nor anyone in the system. I took full responsibility for my actions.
When I went to prison, I kept educating myself on all aspects on trying to better myself. I noticed that a lot of things that I learned in prison about respect, being courteous of others, and being a solid individual was something that my family had tried to teach me when I was young. I didn’t listen then, but now I’m listening.
So back to my Grandma’s quote: “Don’t leave something on your to-do list for tomorrow, that you can do today.” Don’t wait for someone else to tell you to make that change that you need to make, just do it today. For many of you that will be doing hard time or going away for a little bit. Take advantage of everything you can today, so you will be better prepared to confront your obstacle of tomorrow. The struggle doesn’t stop.
I suggest you all to pick a favorite childhood memory. Everyone has to have at least one. Remember that memory, cherish that memory, and remember how happy you were that day for that moment in your life. And I want y’all to go back a bit further than your teen years, because teen years, that’s when many of us start getting into trouble. I want y’all to dig deeper in your memory bank and think 8, 9 years old. Remember that real happiness you felt, like when you got your video game, or you went to the stadium, or a family event. Think of one happy moment. Then ask yourself, what’s stopping you from being happy again today?
Why wait for tomorrow to put a smile on your face today? Why wait till tomorrow to write a letter to someone in your family, asking them how they’re doing or how much you miss them or even sharing a favorite memory with them. Why wait for tomorrow to read those final chapters of that book? Why wait for tomorrow to do your 520 pushups, do 550 today. Why wait for tomorrow to better your situation when you can start today? Your future is based on what you all do today.
Time is all we have, right? Time passes by quick, so don’t let time pass you by because time waits on no one. One love to everybody lockdown and going through the struggle. Stay positive and stay strong! OT is signing out!
Thank you, OT, for giving us a true snapshot of your young life. We appreciate your story, the wisdom and lesson that you provide. We are grateful for the beautiful heart that you have. Thanks for all you do. Lastly, thank you readers of The Beat Within for taking a moment to read this note. Much respect to you all! Stay in touch upon leaving your current situation. Take The Beat Within to your next chapter! We would be honored to stay in touch with you and to continue to give you this platform to create and share.