Raised by a father who grew up working in the Tenderloin.
Schools are all black and Chinese to this day.
Grandfather owned a liquor store under a flop house hotel that averaged a murder a day before 1986.
Crack in 1986 turned the place into New Jack City.
Dad became a Fed, one uncle was a cop, other 2 uncles are criminals with union jobs when they were under court ordered rehab.
They all enjoyed the Army or Navy, good at sports, standard skillsets to get out of the hood.
My old man enlisted as the better option after being arrested for grand theft auto in 1966.
Kind of guys that played football in alleys, gambled anywhere that served beer, and took messing with their cars as the worst kind of disrespect.
Getting arrested as a kid is inevitable, just keep your mouth shut, call someone, you’ll get sprung with charges dropped.
My grandfather was the last store to give credit, so you F with us someone you know doesn’t eat.
My grandmother kept me in the back until I could walk and talk.
She’d walk me past junkies with needles sticking out of their arms at the park.
I hate parks and libraries.
The butcher was my nanny until my old man did a 3 year tour in DC when I was just out of kindergarten.
It gave me something to do besides walk around Market St with her.
Went to Robert E Lee elementary in 1980.
1st day of school white kids pointed out the barely whitewashed “colored” over the black kids bathroom.
I wasn’t used to white kids unless they were dirt poor.
These gave me no indication they were hungry or desperate, so I didn’t count them as dangerous.
Mouthy one got dropped in the garbage can in the bathroom then I took a piss.
Black kids told me the water fountain in the center quad was theirs, big one followed me to the lunch room dumpsters and ended up in it.
I was used to black kids that didn’t talk when they wanted something from you.
Talking is an invitation for me to knock out the one I identify as a thinker.
The rest are feeding off the thinker, and I have to chase them down later.
Ended up in the Principals office where he asked me why I beat those kids and put them in the trash.
I told him dumpsters is where people that lose fights end up, seen it all my life until then.
He asked me where I learned to fight.
Told him my grandfather was a captain in the Chinese Army, came here bc he didn’t like Communists.
Teaching us to fight was a prerequisite of his grandsons dealing with hordes of a Chinatown kids that didn’t like us much.
Sometimes I wonder what the “scumbags” in the suburbs I now live in think when I’m out and about.
I set the local cops radar off but they don’t give me any trouble.
My girlfriend notice both kind of citizens visibly flinch when we are out and about at the county fair and such.
Cousins are now cops, or in unions, my little brothers are feds.
If you steal from one of us you aren’t from San Francisco, which makes finding you easier.
Mostly they do the stealing, so I don’t worry about much.
I’m not the solution, but I’m probably on a first name basis with the problem.