barrio 2 barrio
Amor For Alex film release March 21st 2015
"Ey homie , you need a ride?"Probably the most loving words i ever heard in my lifetime.
Walking around the neighborhood as a teenager, not many people wanted to give a ride. Whether it be fear of getting pulled over by a cop, lack of attention, or just plain selfishness, getting a ride is a hard thing to come by sometimes in a bad area. I remember walking home one day from school in the 7th grade. Drenched from the mile plus walk home i did to, and from. No ride from home because grandma didn’t drive and my uncle didn’t care.
A car pulls on the side of me. Primered up, it had a car full of the older homeboys bumpin oldies. “Ey lil homie, you need a ride”.I hear it come from the shotgun side of the ride. Its my older homie. “thats OG Ben’s Lil Nephew” someone says from the back seat. “Get in”.Im in the car before they can open the latch to let me in. “Hows your uncle?” he asked. “He’s cool, locked up but should be out soon”, i say. I dont even know if they remembered my name but i was just glad they picked me up from that storm.
To this day i remember the exact location i was picked up at.To some it was just a ride. To me it was Carnalismo. A brotherhood , only recognized by those raised with respect and care for their loved 1’s.To this day i still feel a huge debt to another person who may have just givin me a ride up the street. In Fremont , I knew every bus stop in the city. Knew just about every driver too. Going to a dance? lets hit the bus. Going to the mall? Lets hit the bus. GOing to ride on some enemies? Lets hit the bus.
You might not even overlook the fact that you gave a human being a ride up the street or to the other side of town. But in the mind of the recipient of the ride, you might have gained a whole new respect.
I know this homeboy. He's a down-ass homeboy, a real soldado in the eyes of my neighborhood. I knew this homie since I was just a kid. He's been putting in work since I can remember. You should have seen when he was suited and booted. Creases sharp enough to cut through a cake, a real stand-up G.
Guess what? I heard he's got some stripes under his belt now. Layin the enemy down or whoever opposes our way of life. I had to chuckle at some of the stories I heard about him. Shit, I put in work too, so I know the feeling. The rush you get from letting a clip off or putting your blade in someone. I got a lot of respect for the work this homeboy has put in but you know what? There's one thing I don't respect about this homie.
It was a while back when I seen it happen. He just got home off the bus, so I guess he's back in the area. He's all tense in the shoulders. I can see it in his walk and the way he eats fast. We're chopping it up at the store talking about the shit thats been going down in the area. I'm telling him my stories and he's telling me his. We used to put in work together back in the days so the respect is there. But then the lil homie walks up, he's about 16. I'm talking to him about his family when my old school homeboy starts to get at him trying to recruit him in. I can't believe he's trying to waste the homie's life like his was. He starts spittin the same ol game on how they need him and how he's got "corazon". I know the talk because that's how I got in. It's a damn shame.
That was the first time I seen it. After a while it was all he did. Recruiting lil homies left and right. I'd see him at the parks by high schools and any other place that young fragile minds hang out at. I lost respect for him at that point. Its like he had a quota to fill with these these lil youngsters. Trading souls to war became his game.
I think he wants to go back. You know how these guys are. They're so damn institutionalized that "3 hots and a cot" sounds way more appealing that a white picket fence. I guess I shouldn't be mad, we all signed up for this life but we signed our own ticket in this vida, don't bring someone down with you. I think of how people love him as a real soldado even after recruiting so many young lives to the system, essentially altering their views on the world forever. It's a fuckin shame!
I just can't believe my homeboy became a U.S. Marine.
By No Love
Those 3 little words. Depending on numerous factors like financial, ethnicity, and age, this question can provoke an array of feelings, memories, and pride. Descriptions of that “little conrer store” to that person behind the question or even finding out that you both have mutual friends and family members can ensure laughs and trips down memory lane to any good old American suburbanites.
Now, throw this question around in a black or latino neighborhood and see what the reaction is.
"Where you from?" The guy behind this question just left his homie’s pad after just having found out one of their friends was killed the day before.
The guy on the business end of this question just left his girl’s house a few blocks over and his car died out at this corner store.
The guy behind the counter already knows what’s up. He says in a shaky voice and broken accent “please, I don’t want any trouble in here”. The lady who is shopping with her kids hears the question and starts to look through the isle for her children as if to look for another store to shop at.
An answer is given that just doesn’t match up with the geographical region that the poor bastard with the broke down car is standing in. This is where those feelings, memories, and pride come into play.
And to think, this all started with someone asking a question with 3 simple words. Where are you from? This happens every hour in America. Blacks and Latinos deal with this question on a daily basis with dire consequences. So the next time you’re out and about and happen to meet an interesting enough person to spark a conversation with and you ask them those 3 little words, just be happy you do not live in the barrio or the hood where many have bled and lost their lives after hearing those 3 little words.
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