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Chapter 2: The ‘80s

Looking at the worl d through the eyes as an adolescent growing up in the ‘80’s, it was impossible to escape the negative impact of our neighborhood. Without the proper resources to help, i t was impossible to fight this new epidemic of illegal narcotics. Before we knew it our community and our streets were being controlled and taken over by Crack, Heroin, death, murder, and mayhem. It all quickly became an accepted cultural norm in our social society growing up in the worst Impoverished neighborhoods in northern California.

Crack and cocaine had flooded the streets running through the urban neighborhoods like the “new chocolate.” Being cheap and highly addictive, this new mind and body altering drug was quickly on its way to destroying a whole generation of new users in record numbers.

“Zombie land” is what we felt like our surrounding area turned into at night. There would be so many Crack heads running around stealing from people, places or things in the neighborhood and nobody was off limits even their own mothers, no one was safe, they wouldn’t even be safe from the power of the addiction to the controlled substance. As soon as the addict could get their hands on something of value they would run to the dope dealer in exchange for a small rock so they could smoke their rock out of a glass pipe heated up so hot burning their fingertips and lips just so they could get a ten minute high. The only thing I can truly say and remember is that our community was really safe until crack hit: Until “Zombie Land” came full throttle. During the weekends things would get much worse, we would see the action go around the clock.

Certain lifestyles and lifestyle choices seemed to somehow manifest themselves in the poor neighborhoods first because it would seem like the wild side of people felt more comfortable at expressing and letting go of their own individuality. These would allow most people to automatically feel more accepted and less judged when around certain social types that have less so they don’t have to worry about skepticism.

That is the only reason why they would have felt justified enough to journey all the way across town and down to our side of the tracks just to “score some dope” (those were the words they would use when buying illegal narcotics) or to fulfill their other fetish intentions. They would sit around all day trying to pick up on young willing thirteen or fourteen year old boys to have sexual relations with and pay them twenty dollars with a promise not to say anything while they traveled back across the bridge to their wife and kids for their nightly dinner.

Spiritually, Emotionally and Physically for existence it seemed as if the Television, radio, and media outlets would listen and use glimpses of our way of survival for capital gain, For instance. The way we dressed or our jive talk, our lingo, our slang, our words, Rhythms and catch phrases. Our way of life was considered abnormal for most of White America at this time, but believe it or not after awhile the norms that we would portray in our day to day lives were now starting to make a strong impact on society on an economic level. Looking back it was evident that the media portrayed certain behaviors in our community as negative and unacceptable and on the other hand it was providing financial gain and commercial entertainment.

In the early ‘80s the introduction to drugs had officially begun. Illegal narcotics vastly became a billion dollar industry. At one time the common census stated that there wasn’t a bill in the United States that wasn’t free from drug residue. The money that was being made came from a lot of different areas that funneled right back to our neighborhood and it was all considered blood money. The evil truth in the matter is that it was a necessary economic need to boost our community because it truly generated substantial wealth for a large number in our impoverished community, cycling a lot of money through small business.

Drug dealers started obtaining unrealistic illusion of success, which made the younger generation think twice about going to work hard and do physical labor all day for little to no pay. Some people were able to see how fast and easy the new money making of the drug selling was. The illegal narcotics trade became so lucrative that it started to create unrealistic desires and wants inside its own community that once pride its self on being a tight knit community, filled with strong integrity and strength in morals and values.

The money that was being made was so large that on a grander scale the people that were making the most money had a harder time trying to clean it, (As in making it look legal and legit). When that happened, you started to see extortion rise in small local business. The only way to keep your business safe from extortion was to pay for protection from the same people that would issue the violence if you didn’t pay.

To clean your money was difficult back then unless you had an inside man working somewhere at a bank that normally wasn’t the case because that type of talk was just too risky without having an oath of silence. The drug dealers started imitating what they had seen on television. They would walk around like it was natural, come back and show it off in the neighborhood. A lot of money was dumped into their newly acquired vehicles by upgraded the stereos to add bass that what vibrate the whole inside of your from a block away,

Like any other successful business man they would want to show off their newly acquired success by going on shopping sprees, buying cars, clothes, jewelry and entourages. After awhile the newly acquired norms of our everyday life and life style started affecting the stock market, most importantly adding capital to specialty stores and private small businesses.

Then I think of my mother, I can remember back when I was young and not old enough to work or make an income to help provide for my mother. I could always see the stress in her forehead, the pain and hurt in her heart, body, and mind. She finally would make it home so beat, tired, and half dead after a long day of work. To this day, I don’t truly understand her work ethic.

I do believe that the only thing that helped her survive through the hardest times and longest days was the knowledge and understanding that her children were attended to at all times and that all of their needs and wants were well taken care of. To put the icing on the cake, she would never ask for anything in return. That thought alone gave ambition enough to make most young men say,“ Mom when you get older don’t worry I’m going to take care of you. You know what, I’m going to buy you a house.” Of course that’s when the problems kicked in becau se everyday and all day long we would see and watch how easy it looked selling dope making more money than the police. As they stood around joking and having a good time making money, the young drug dealers lived life free from restriction and gambled and partied all night long.

Lets not forget all the young girls that would watch them intently out of the windows of their bedrooms. They would be so in love with the older boys mind you, It just wouldn’t be acceptable to be in love with the school boys or the goodie goodies, the girls would want to be in a relationship with the hardest acting of the young men the Gangstas, thugs, and the drug dealers.

Normally when the worst situations of violence in the neighborhood would happen, you would see entire families clash. Growing up in the projects everyone is so close knit to one another because all the families normally spend a lot time together living in such close quarters. Growing up in the neighborhood you learned to get along with others or you fought it out for who’s going to be boss. Normally, The winners of the altercations went to the biggest family of course. they would win by default because they would have more people to win by default, having more people to win the battle but then. It would also come down to who was just plan and simple the craziest.

Every summer as a child growing up in the projects of Oakland California, there would be more action and excitement outside than inside. So of course during this time, I had seen my first true glimpse of violence and action up close and personal. When I say action I mean, it was like something in a movie scene that my mother would want me to cover my eyes from. As soon as a problem would start in the neighborhood she would start yelling for us to come inside. I honestly believe we were able to see true reality TV First hand and personal.

One thing people are unaware of is that there was a lot of money in the projects believe it or not. There were all single moms living in low income housing. They all worked long hour’s daily and were all hard working upstanding citizens. Whatever bad things people would say about the people that lived in the area, the one thing people outside the area did not understand is that everyone living in the projects still would have to meet a certain standard to even be able to qualify to receive assistance for housing.

Growing up in an impoverished community there was no shame nor was it new to us because everybody’s family had a crack head or somebody committing crack head activities and, or a drunk Uncle. Eighty five percent of us growing up in the neighborhood had a father that never came around, so we were all being raised by single mothers. All you had was hard working women and young boys thinking that they were grown men. We had many young men running around thinking that they were already the closest thing to god himself: until they would get their hard headed stubborn self and family in a situation that would ignite quickly and touch you up close and personal. Normally it would come back around affecting one of your loved ones, not directly affecting the individual who started the situation.

As a young man I started searching for my own identity by looking into family, friends, and inside myself. My mother always taught us to live free even when confined, meaning “never let anyone break you down physically or mentally.” Since my living environment was so heavily impacted with violence and illegal activity I found myself adapting to social norms that later in my adult life would negatively affect me. For example, certain physical reactions that were acceptable, as a child would give you a reputation on the street as tough guy, don’t mess with him. The same mentality later in life, as a man would label you as a predator of some sort and a woman abuser. It was hard to understand the true value of a man, all his worth and everything he is capable of achieving. When you’re surrounded living and growing up in the environment where the pimps, hustlers, and con men that all may make more money than the men with trade jobs and have more of an appealing lifestyle for the short- term progress then hard working educated young men.

Let’s just speak financially. If you make ten thousand dollars fast by hustling, selling dope or robbing somebody and you were to get caught, which you’re more likely to get caught than get away, statistically proven your consequence is prison or county jail for a period of five to ten years. Now just do the math really quickly. If you take that ten thousand dollars and divide it up over five years, that means you only made Two thousand dollars a year for a five-year bid. this equates to a grand total of one hundred and sixty-seven dollars a month for five years. If you want to look at ten years, it’s one thousand dollars a year if you do a ten-year bid. which equates to eighty-six dollars a month for ten years.

Now let’s just say if you took the road less traveled because of inner city social rejection and became the young man that went to work for McDonald’s, you would be bringing home four hundred dollars a week. Or you could be the young girl that is going to school on a full scholarship, is getting her room and board paid for and receive Two thousand five hundred dollars each semester which is approximately every six months.

On the outside looking in it almost seems like a no brainer. But the problem seems to go way beyond whether or not you want to take the right track. Or is the right track for some, just not being presented and given the same opportunities as the next. If our young children weren’t plagued with poverty and /or homeless, desperately trying to survive in an economy where the industry jobs in which our nation was built upon are few and for between. and the jobs that provide financial freedom come with a back ground check. And where the minimum wage is way under the cost of living, maybe they would take the road less traveled instead and not be lured into the fast money. When those impoverished wake up in the morning and look into the mirror they don’t see a failed economy, they seen a failed individual. When they can’t get a job they don’t see the thousands who just got fired today in the news, they see their bills becoming overdue and their baby’s needs not being met.