Why I Quit My Prison Gang
Before I was indoctrinated and officially associated with the Nuestra Raza gang in northern California, I existed on the periphery of that universe as an underdeveloped, impressionable young satellite, on the outside looking in.
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For a time, I actually wanted to be a city planner—I liked the idea of being able to create the ideal living environment, perhaps because mine was so unattractive.
But that notion soon faded and I began to emulate local ‘hood legends, sociopaths with names like Cisco, Green Eyes and Shotgun. I creased my jeans like them. I listened to oldies, drank malt liquor and tallied up sexual escapades with the more promiscuous ‘hood rats, some more than twice my age.
And when the opportunity to prove my loyalty presented itself, I was more than eager to acquire a.
