Terraform by Propaganda

Author:Propaganda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

I didn’t join our family’s street gang. 73rd was the street my pops got stabbed in the stomach by his homie Bobby across the street. The hood where Pops and Uncle Ed beat the shit out of a guy who tried to cheat lil Eddy Petty in a pool game. Where Uncle Ed got slammed on the driveway by LAPD in front of my grandma. 73rd and San Pedro, where I got dropped off five days a week for child care for my first five years, where I saw my first heroin needle, first punch in the face, first drug deal. Where I heard Biz Markie and Kool Moe Dee for the first time. Where my roots are planted. The soil that all my narrative sprouts from. I didn’t join, because I don’t live there. That’s my grandma’s house. That’s my dad’s street. Not mine. By the time I was of age, I was twenty minutes east, in an all Mexican hood, run by the Mexican Mafia. I was in the San Gabriel Valley in a small hood called Valinda. Where yo’ mamma pays rent is out of your hands; however, the way we are made, where she pays rent is of the utmost importance. 73rd and San Pedro courses through my veins, but I got mixed soil. I got San Gabriel Valley in my bones.

This little window was a greenhouse for me. The fact of the gang situation being almost exclusively Latino, the fact that I am not of pure South Central or Valinda blood, caused for different fruit to sprout out of the fertile soil of my soul. Instead, I became an artist. Ronnie Robles, Covina resident by way of Baldwin Park, birthplace of In-N-Out (you’re welcome), northwest of my hood, a young man about five years my senior, put a can of spray paint in my hands.

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