It has been one heck of a busy year for The Beat Within. As most of you know, we have been doing the good workday in and day out in our efforts to bring the best program to the sites we visit, and of course bring you the one and only publication that truly matters when it comes to giving voice to those within the walls of the system and beyond.
As we put the final touches on this latest issue, we take a moment to look ahead to 2023, and we certainly anticipate more of the same work with a few surprises. We hope to bring a couple new sites into the mix and possibly do a special issue or two, plus hopefully if we can squeeze it into our schedules, a spoken word event too. Last week, we were visiting San Diego, CA. as we are expanding our services in San Diego to a second site, Youth Transition Campus. This is all being discussed at headquarters, as we always make our weekly workshops our number one priority and the magazine you have in your hands.
All right, allow me to pass the keyboard to our colleague OT, who will share his latest thoughts in this editorial note.
This is OT reporting live to you from the hot and boiling country of Managua, Nicaragua, hitting you guys with some wisdom, game and knowledge. I’m going to touch on a couple of topics that many of you wrote about. First of all, it’s always a pleasure and privilege to read your thoughts, your stories and your wisdom as well. Your thoughts and ideas help me put everything into perspective.
I’m going to touch on what the streets cost me. Growing up in San Francisco, CA as a young buck, fresh from crossing the border near Tijuana, freshly migrated from Nicaragua at the age of four, the streets came to be the place where I felt most comfortable. The streets was where we rode our bikes, where we play football, baseball, basketball, and had water balloon fights during those hot summer days.
When you’re little the streets don’t actually look so rough. You don’t tend to see the drug abuse, the violence you will see, because you can’t forget the blue and red sirens pulling up. The streets is where we all congregated, whether you were Black, Latino, White, Samoan, Asian, etc. It didn’t matter where you were from, the streets weren’t racist.
Growing up, the streets were a safe haven for many of us because for many minorities growing up, we came from single parent households. That meant that usually, the adults were out trying to make a living to put food on the table. For those kids feeling lonely at home, we would go knock on our friend’s door and see if they wanted to come outside and play or hang out with us. Remember, this is before the internet, social media, and cell phones y’all, so playing outside whether it was sports or just playing freeze tag, was the highlight of our days.
As we kept getting older we started seeing the nasty side of the street much clearer. We saw stray-bullets hit innocent kids and innocent by-standers. We started seeing drug addicts. We started having fights and rumbles with other kids for no reasons. I remember the rumbles would be for stupid reasons, but weapons would get pulled out, and it went from rocks to bottles, and then from knives to guns.
I remember losing a homeboy around the age of thirteen. He was stabbed to death. It was a traumatizing experience for me for sure. And from that point I always made it an emphasis to protect myself. I would eventually get into gangs and lead a life of crime. I would donate time to the system, and I would lose relationships with friends and family because of my actions.
The streets came with a heavy price but for some reason many of us all think that’s all we have, the streets. Look, I don’t want to make this story about me, but I must share my background because I paid a heavy price for the streets. I’ve lost several loved ones to the streets that are no longer living. People that had kids, that had families, that won’t ever get to see their son or daughter grow up.
I didn’t get to see my 2 daughters grow up because I was in prison and then I got deported, but I was still able to contact them when I got out and had a chance to repair my relationship with them. Look, the streets are slimy. Some of you, your affiliation with the streets run from decades ago because it’s in your bloodline, generational, but you don’t have let the streets keep taking everything from you to realize that there’s more to life than just the streets.
We know some of y’all are enrolled in college and I’m really proud of y’all for really doing your thing. Sometimes it takes getting locked up, for you to look at your life and reflect on what you can do better. You have to reflect and think about what you’ve been doing wrong. I used my time in prison wisely and reflected on the things that I would never do again.
I told myself I would make my family a priority once I get out, and I think I’ve done just that. Even though all my family is in California and I’m in Nicaragua, we always talk on the phone. When my family comes out to visit me I always make sure to make some time for them, whether it’s at least breakfast, lunch or dinner, or sometimes even all three.
It takes a lot of guts to put your family before anything because many of us that come from the street life adopt our friends, homeboys, associates, colleagues, whatever you want to call them, as family also.
We’re so accustomed to referring to these individuals as family and even call them brothers and sisters, while your real brother or sister is at home waiting for you to get out. But let me ask you something logical. Why would you want someone to be a part of your family that doesn’t even respect their own family?
If they don’t show up to their family events, don’t spend time with their family, don’t know what respect, nor what loyalty is how you going to expect them to do those things for you? If I knew then what I know now, I would always make sure my homies were around their grandmas on their birthdays. I would make sure that they respected their moms, their families and looked out for their siblings in the same way I seen them look out for other homies.
Let’s not be hypocrites and say that you out there robbing, hitting licks, or living the life of crime because you want to put food on the table. If you’re out there on the streets, it’s because you like it. Just admit it. I loved the thrill that the streets gave me. It was addicting.
If you keep brainwashing yourself and saying that it’s to put food on the table, that’s only you trying to rationalize your decisions. But just admit it, there is something tempting about those streets that just draws us right in. The danger, the fame, the money, the status, the power, the clout, boy I could keep going. What are we all searching for? Why do we want to be surrounded by 20 to 30 dudes?
Hey, I’m not saying to just stop hanging out with your homies. I still have very close homies ‘till this very day, that I consider family, but that’s because I’m 37 years old. They’ve been with me for a very long time. We’ve seen each other go through our ups and downs and we went from boys to men, and to having kids of our own. We had to find our way through life just like you do too. But I no longer have hundreds of friends and associates. I can count my solid friends on two hands and that’s all I need.
So, don’t let the streets keep running up your tab. Some of you have given it a lot already. The streets cost a lot. Look at my example, I’m in another country far away from my loved ones. Some of you will be locked up for years far away from your loved ones. So I say, it’s time you make a gutsy move and start prioritizing your family.
Your family is missing you all right now. You young men and women are young, but your aunts, uncles, moms, dads, and grandparents, they deserve more of your time and affection. It’s time to be that great son/daughter, that great nephew/niece, that great uncle/aunt, that great standout person in your family that’s there for them, just like how they are there for you right now in your time of need.
It’s time to be gutsy, and be there for your family because after all they are the ones that are actually waiting, and waiting and waiting for you to finally come home and make the right choice, to live a better life, free of the system. One love to everybody going through the struggle. OT is signing out with the utmost love and respect. And The Beat keeps going and going…
A big thanks to our dear colleague Omar for sharing his story through our prompts. We also want to thank all you writers – young and old – who do just that week in and week out. Your stories matter. Your voice matters more so now than ever before. We encourage you to share your truths, with the goal to feel empowered while you inspire others and give hope. Please do not hesitate to reach out to us, as we welcome your updates, your art, your submissions, with the goal of helping us make this world a better place. Thank you all, once again, for embracing The Beat Within. We cannot do this work alone.