INTERVIEW: Growing Up in Watts



David Lopez is 18 now, and he’s spent most of his childhood in Watts. When he was just 6, the brother who raised him joined a gang and in the subsequent years David experienced first-hand the allure of gang life and the tragedy of its violence.  He sat down with me on the patio of Burger King on 108th St. in Watts to recount his experiences. What follows is a lightly edited transcript of that interview.

Stephanie Harnett: Do you remember the first time you realized your brother was in a gang?

David Lopez: Oh, yeah, I remember that. Uh, it was actually, well, back in the day, my family and everybody used to, um, they used to play volleyball in front of my house, like right in front, like in the street, with the neighbors that lived across the street. And my brother, he was pretty good at volleyball. And from time to time he kinda stopped playing with us and he would go kick it in the whole little group thing.

SH: Still on the street?

DL: Yeah, but, like, on the corner. Not so much in front of my house. Yeah, I found out he was gang banging when I seen the tattoo.  He had a tattoo of his gang.

When was the first time you saw the tattoo? How old were you?

I was probably like around 7, 6 or 7.

And you already knew what it meant?

Yeah, I already knew what it meant. I mean, it was written all over the floor and stuff, the walls throughout my whole block.  It was written, so I already knew what was up. I knew what it meant.

And what’d you think when you saw that?

I mean, I kinda already knew my brother was in a gang ’cause, like, he was already bald and he would dress like, um, he would wear the high socks with the, like, the plaid shorts and the Cortez’s, the Nikes.  So I already knew what’s up.  I mean, I’d seen him, I’d seen people that looked exactly like him, so I’m guessing, you know, he was in a gang.

But you looked up to your brother?

Yeah, I looked up to him a lot.

So did you think that was cool when you first saw it [the tattoo]?

Yeah.  I mean, I kinda started wanting to dress like him.  And he would actually dress, I mean, he would buy me clothes that actually matched with him.  Yeah, so I would.  I actually had my head shaved for a while too.  At a real young age.  I was still, like, real young.  I was young as f***.  Oop.  Yeah, and, uh, yeah. I was bald throughout all of middle school.  I mean, not middle school, elementary.  And some of middle school.  Yeah. And I was dressing like him too.

Did you want to follow in his footsteps?

Yeah, I did.  I mean, I thought what he was doing was cool, ’cause, I mean, he had a lot of friends and stuff.  And he would, everybody would call him, uh, nah, I can’t say what they called him. I mean, I thought it was cool.  I actually wanted to do it. Yeah, not until like middle school though is when I actually wanted to be, you know, in a gang.

And did you actively pursue that?

Well, it started ’cause, uh, one of my cousins got shot right there by my house and, like, he was real close to me.  He was my age, and I was probably like around 12, and he was 13, and he got shot. Yeah, ’cause he was actually gang banging, but he wasn’t gang banging where my brother was from.  He was gang banging in some other neighborhood, some other one in South Central. But the opposing gang from, uh, the opposing gang that went at it with my brother’s, that was the one that shot my cousin. So that kinda, you know, it got me mad and stuff, and I wanted to be in a gang. I wanted to get them back. And that’s kinda what made me wanna, you know, join a gang like real, real, real bad.

Were you mad? Or did you feel and obligation?

I was mad. I was mad. And yeah, it was like an obligation, too. I felt like it was an obligation. ‘Cause I remember seeing my brother and, like, a couple of his homies get in the car talking about, like, they were gonna get them back. And I wanted to go. But my brother didn’t let me go.

So what happened after that?

After that incident? After my cousin? Oh, it was probably like a week later. Uh, I told some of the little dudes. ‘Cause my brother, he was already older.  He wasn’t considered a "new booty." That’s what they call them, "new booties," the ones that are, like, barely trying to get their stripes. Those are usually, probably, like, at the age of 11, 12.  And they’re already gang banging and stuff. Most of them were my friends, ’cause I would go to school with them.  I went to Ritter [Elementary School] with them. And, um, I mean, like, I told them, I was like, "Alright, I wanna get in, I wanna get in." And they were like, "Alright, we’re gonna set it up." And they were gonna chord me in, chord me in meaning that they were gonna jump me for 13 seconds, like they were all gonna, like, beat my a** for 13 seconds, ’cause, you know, Southside 13.  And, um, my brother found out about this and he didn’t let it happen.  He didn’t let it happen.  He, he beat my a** himself.  And he kinda put stuff in my head.  He was like, "Look, why are you trying to be a gangster if you are letting me beat you a**?" And all this stuff.  So he kept, like, he kept hitting me and hitting me and hitting me, but, I mean, I knew he was doing it for the best, ’cause I know he didn’t want me to follow his same footsteps.  He didn’t want me to go down the same road.

Had your brother had bad experiences before that?

Yeah. [pause] Yeah. Ah, he never actually told me what happened but he told me that for a while, for a cool minute, I know he couldn’t sleep at all.  I know he couldn’t sleep at all, like he was traumatized, like real stuff. I was already, like, probably in the eighth grade when he told me this.

So how did you feel then, after your brother beat you up?

I mean, ah, I was mad too.  I was mad ’cause I actually wanted to be in a gang. I wanted to be in a gang like real, real, real bad. And my brother, he wasn’t letting it happen. Like, no matter what. I would even try to, like, do, like, on a low key, like real, like, secretive and stuff. But one way or another he found out.  I mean, he was part of the gang so eventually he was gonna find out and he would never let it happen. It came to times where he actually told me to stay inside of the house and he wouldn’t let me go outside. And, like, my dad and my mom, they were always working, so he was the one that was in charge of me and stuff.

So what did you do after that? You figured out that [joining the gang] is not an option anymore, right?

Yeah, I mean, I would still kick it with my homies right there that stayed on the block.

While they were gang banging?

Yeah.  And, um, in 6th grade I went to a school right here, Markham.  Markham Middle School, right here off of, uh, Compton and 108. And, um, I went there for actually two weeks.  And I was kicking it a lot with my homies right there, and, like, the first week all my homeboys got, like, kicked out of school.

Why?

Selling drugs, I mean, gang banging and fightin’ and stuff.  And I was the only one that was kinda like cool, ’cause I was still getting good grades.  Like, throughout elementary school I had, like, straight A’s and stuff.  And, um, I mean, I was still getting good grades at Markham. And, uh, once they got kicked out, like…That’s cause, in middle school, that’s when all the gang banging starts and stuff. So there was already a couple people that were gang banging at Markham, and they seen me kickin’ it with that gang, so I got my a** beat. I got jumped. Sixth grade.

So even though you weren’t part of the gang, they saw you together with them and they just assumed?

Yeah. So my parents found out and they sent me to a private school closer to my house, a Catholic private school, a middle school. And that’s kinda when I started separating from the little gang thing ’cause, uh, no gang bangers were right there at the private school.  Like, absolutely none of them. Nobody that had gang banged went to that school or nothing like that.

So what did you do once you started that private school?  You got a new group of friends?

Yeah, I got a new group of friends. I was always playing sports like basketball.  That’s another thing my brother did; he would coach my basketball team.

What age were you when he coached your basketball team?

Ah, it was probably, well, I started playing when I was 7, ah, he didn’t start coaching my team ’til I was like 9. Yeah, and uh, where was I? Oh, at middle school. Oh, and people that I met there, they were all into sports, and I started getting into basketball, like, a lot more.  And I started to get into football a lot more.  And I found out that I was pretty good at it, so, I mean, I started playing it and I kinda like forgot about that whole gang banging thing.  And, um, I think my brother tried to, you know, get straight too, ’cause, like, that’s when he started looking for jobs. He wasn’t just layin’ around the house anymore, he was actually like trying to do something.

Was he still involved in the gang at that point?

Uh, well, yeah, you can’t get out that gang. You can’t get out.  Unless you’re dead or you have a kid or a family or something. Or you move away. That’s the only reason you’ll get out that gang. You can’t just say, "Oh, I wanna be out." No.

You’re there for life?

Yeah, basically.

Now, what else did you do at the middle school? You told me before about this tagging crew.

Oh, that wasn’t until freshman year of high school.

Ok, tell me about that.

Hold on, um, what kind of lead to that was ’cause, oh, my eighth grade, um, that’s when I kinda started getting a little bad too. But not so much on gang banging, but drugs. Yeah, I started using drugs a lot.

What’d you use?

Well, uh, I started off with weed.  It’s cause I had, I aint gonna lie, my eighth grade year I was like, I was big, I was chubby. And I was like real short.

After playing all those sports?

I know, but I was still chubby. I mean, I liked girls a lot, and they didn’t like me back, so I remember my brother being big too and then all of a sudden when he started using cocaine he got skinny.  So I, I wanted to get skinny, so I started sniffing. And, uh, yeah, I was sniffing until the second semester my freshman year.

And did you get skinny?

Yeah, I lost a lot of weight. My eighth grade year I was 200. Uh, the beginning of my eighth grade year I was 200 [pounds]. By the beginning of my ninth grade year I was 160. And then, uh, let me see, let me see, let me see, oh, and then I started kickin’ it with my cousin, the one that got shot. He didn’t die. Yeah, so, um, I started kickin’ it with him even more. And he went to a public high school. And at public high schools it’s all about, you know, tagging and gang banging and stuff. So, he was into the tagging thing. I started tagging ’cause I started kickin’ it with my cousin and my cousin started tagging so I started tagging. And yeah, we were in a tagging crew. We would, we would, uh, everywhere we would go we’d take a marker or a spray can and just tag.

And what did you tag?

[laugh] We tagged N-E-G. Negative Crew.

And what does that mean?

I don’t know, it was just a name. I really didn’t know what it meant.

Really?

Yeah, I was just in the crew.

And what kind of places did you put this? You said everywhere you went.

Yeah, basically.  Busses, street poles, walls, tables, everything, floors, everywhere.  Wherever, wherever I got a, like, chance to do it I did.

And what was the objective?

It was fun. Oh wait, the objective? It was to, uh, make the crew known, so the more you have it up, the more people are gonna see it and the more people are gonna know about you and yeah, it’s just to get popular.  That’s all a tagging crew is.  It’s like a uh, popular game. Like, whoever puts it up the most is the one that’s known the most. And I don’t know, it’s, now that I think about it, it’s dumb.  But at the time, it was more of an adrenaline rush ’cause I used to like the feeling of getting caught, but I didn’t get caught, so yeah.

You never got caught?

 I got caught, oh, my freshman year I got caught, but not by, like, a cop or anything. I got caught by some, some gangsters. I was in Paramount, and I was tagging on a wall. It was, ah, I think it was just a wall right there.  It was on a big street, too, and some gangsters had seen me and I was with my, it was me, my friend, one of my homeboys, and, uh, another one of my homeboys that I don’t really consider my homeboy anymore because of that day. ‘Cause, uh, like, the gangsters, they went up to us, and they asked us where we were from. And I had to say I was from N-E-G. I didn’t say I banged, I told him that I write, I didn’t bang. And he goes, "Alright, well, what you write?" And I was like, "Well, I write N-E-G crew." And he goes, "Oh, I’m from Locos Trece [a gang]" or whatever and I was all, "Alright, alright."  Then what’d he say? I think he seen my phone in my pocket and he, no in my hand, ’cause, I think, I don’t know why I had my phone in my hand, but he seen it and he wanted me to give it to him.  And I was like, "Nah, it aint happenin’." And it was like five, six of them. And I remember him just socking me, and he spit on me and that’s when I socked him back and then they all rushed in.  Yeah, so I got my a** beat right there too. And my other homie, he helped, he helped me out.  But the other one? He ran. So that’s why I don’t really consider him my homeboy anymore. ‘Cause he wasn’t there. And, oh, from that day on I was like, oh, I kinda wanted to stop.  ‘Cause, I mean, I don’t want to get my a** beat anymore.  So, yeah, I kinda stopped from that day.

And were you able to get out of the tagging crew?

Oh yeah.  Yeah, yeah.  It’s not like a gang.  It’s different. It’s, you can get out if you want to.  It depends though. There’s, uh, there’s a tagging crew that just tags and there’s a tag-banging crew. A tag-banging crew is kinda like a little, small gang, a small gang that tags. But I wasn’t like that. Tagging was just to write.  We just wrote, we just tagged everywhere.  We didn’t actually, like, go ask people where they were from if they looked suspicious or anything, if they looked like gangsters or anything.  We didn’t ask them where they were from.  We didn’t have beef with any crews, meaning that we didn’t, like, fight any crews just because.  I don’t know.  The only reason we would fight is, uh, if somebody had our names, and we would fight for the name. At that time, uh, they called me Glass.  I’ve had, like, two names.  They called me Glass ’cause I used to do the, the drug. They called me Glass and I remember another dude was named Glass from another crew and me and him had to fight ’cause, fight for the name.  But that was like the only reason we fought.  We didn’t fight ’cause, like, we hated each other.  We, we didn’t have beef with other crews.

So what happened when you fought Glass?

I kept my name. [laughs] Yeah.

What about the sense of camaraderie? These were your "brothers" and you stuck up for each other, right?

Oh yeah.  Yeah.  We was boys.  We was bros.  And, um, I would only kick it with them on the weekends ’cause, uh, on the weekdays I would, you know, go to school, even though my freshman year I messed up real bad.

How so?

I mean, I would go to, you know, Verb [Verbum Dei High School, where David is currently a senior], and, like, you know how I’ve always had a job, you know, at my school? So, um, I would hardly show up. I didn’t like going to school.  I didn’t like going to work. So, uh, I wouldn’t even show up. I was, like, on the verge of, like, getting kicked out.  I don’t know why I didn’t, but I didn’t. So, yeah.

So what were you doing while you were not going to school?  Were you tagging?

Uh, sometimes.  Sometimes I would tag, sometimes I would go with girls, sometimes I would go to parties.

During the day?

Yeah, ditching parties.

Ditching parties?  Tell me about that.

Um, ditching parties, well, it didn’t really happen at my school ’cause there are a lot of, like, smart people at my school so not a lot would, you know, would ditch. But I would kick it with my cousin, and he would always have ditching parties ’cause at public schools they don’t really care.  They have ditching parties all the time. And yeah, we would just kick back.

So that’s what you did freshman year. Then what did you do after that?

Um, sophomore year, my first semester I was kinda doing the same thing, but it wasn’t as much but I was still kinda doing it. I was still kinda tagging a little bit, I was still doing just a little bit of drugs, I wasn’t sniffing any more, though.  I was still smoking weed though.  And, um, oh yeah, my sophomore year when my first semester was over I remember I had like a point five [0.5] GPA.  So, I had basically, like, all Fs and a couple, like two or three, Ds, I don’t know.  And I remember, I saw my mom’s look like she looked all disappointed and stuff and I was like, "Aww, man." I mean, ’cause they were actually paying for the school and yeah.  And then they kicked me off the football team too. I was playing football too, my freshman year, my freshman year and my sophomore year I was playing football.  And they kicked me off the football team, so I, you know, I had to step my game up. I had to work hard and get good grades.

And did you do that?

Yeah.

When did you finally turn it around?

Well, I had a point five GPA for my first semester of sophomore year. By my second semester I had a, I had a 3.1. And then they bumped me up to honors. Yeah.

Wow that is quite an about face, huh?

I know.

And what are you doing now? You’re a senior, right?

Yeah, I’m a senior.

Are you going to school next year?

Yeah, I’m going to school next year.

Where are you going?

It’s either between UC Merced and Cal State Long Beach.

That’s great. And what about your brother?

My brother right now? Oh, well, he doesn’t live at home anymore. He found a girl and he’s living with her. And he basically, like, she’s pregnant too.  So he’s about to have a kid. Um, he’s doing good; he has a job, he’s cool.  He’s actually doin’ real good right now.  He stopped doin’ the drugs, he doesn’t go around the house anymore, he doesn’t, like, mess with all that gang banging stuff.  He’s 30 now.  Yeah.

What do you mean, "go around the house?"

Like, the only times he would go to the house before was to, you know, gang bang and stuff. Now, he just goes to the house to, you know, say hi to my mom and my dad, but he doesn’t even, like, go outside.  He doesn’t kick it. Well, most of the people that he would actually hang out with are either in dead or in jail. Yeah.

What about your friends, the ones you used to hang out with in public school?

Uh, I know two, two are dead. And one, his name was Ernesto, he was, like, my best friend.  Uh, I don’t know where he went, I don’t know.  I don’t know anything about him. And I think, like, four are in jail. Yeah.

So are you glad you never did that [joined the gang]?

Yeah.  I thank my brother for beating my a** that day.  Yeah, ’cause, ah, I didn’t want to end up like most of the friends that I have, well, that I had back then, either in jail or dead or, nah, I’m cool.

Did you ever know anyone else who had an older brother, or someone who was involved with a gang, who told them not to join? Or would you say that it’s the opposite, that they try to recruit?

I know that happens a lot, the recruiting. Yeah, that happens a lot. It happens a lot a lot. But I think I know like two people that actually go to my school now, so Verbum Dei [High School], that have brothers like that, that have gang banged, but didn’t let them gang bang. As far as that, I don’t know anybody else.  I know around the block, a lot of my homeboys that are, like, either in jail or dead now, um, they, um, they had older brothers that were in the gang too.  So, yeah.

What if you had a younger brother?

Well, to me my younger brother is my nephew. Yeah, and he aint coming close to that, I’m gonna make sure of that.  He aint comin’ near it. I don’t even want him to go outside right now.

Why?

‘Cause I don’t even want him to have friends, like I had friends. I told my sister that she should, like, put him in a private school from, like, kinder[garten] all the way to twelfth grade.

You think that’s the best place? In private school?

Yeah.  Yeah, no doubt.

And what about when you have a son?

I’m not livin’ around here! Nuh-uh, I don’t want to live over here.

Where do you want to live?

Anywhere but here. Uh, no, I’m cool. Nah, I’m alright.  I’m tryin’ to move outta here.  Not in Watts, not in Compton, not in South Central. I’m cool.

An Old Favorite, with a Healthy Twist



The Natural Soul Food Non Profit Cafe isn’t like the other restaurants on this, the 1400 block of Martin Luther King Blvd.  Behind three ordinary-looking storefronts, this cafe serves healthy soul food with a side of culture.  It’s a culture canteen in South LA.

All day long in the cafe’s sparse kitchen, simple plates of yellow and blue are loaded with generous portions of honey-baked chicken and turkey meatloaf, then adorned with scoops of fragrant yams and greens steaming from pot to plate.  The heavy plates are rushed through swinging salon doors, past tables of chess pieces standing at attention and hollow-eyed African tribal masks keeping watch over this cultural "living room" to the next room, where they’re served on simple picnic tables with cotton tablecloths in traditional African patterns.

And behind it all is Jacinto Rhines, Jr., the passionate patriarch of the cafe, who can be found variously brooding over a game of chess, performJacinto Rhines, Jr./ photo by Stephanie Harnetting his own spoken-word poetry, or converting unsuspecting patrons to his creed of healthy living.  At 69, he says he’s in the best shape of his life.

"I’ll drop and give 100 to anyone who asks," he boasts and then falls to his hands and knees on the dining room’s linoleum floor as if to answer an unvoiced challenge.  As he bobs up and down on the floor, a tuft of wiry gray curls that have loosened themselves from his chest-length dread locks bobs in time.  He counts his pushups aloud in disciplined sets of 20, and the last set is noticeably breathier as his counting approaches panting.  He braces himself as he rises from the floor.  Between breaths, he attributes his good health to his own strict diet and explains that he’s brought the same principles to the food at the cafe.

"We’re using that natural soul food concept to make soul food as tasty as it’s always been, but now be healthy."

The criteria for ingredients at the cafe is a colorful checklist of exclusions: no red meat, no white sugar, no black pepper.  Instead, leaner meats like chicken and turkey, along with the sweetness of honey and the bite of cayenne pepper, find their way into the cafe’s soul food dishes.  Here, chicken is baked not fried, potatoes are mashed with the nutrient-rich skin still on, and everything from lemonate to fruit cobbler is sweetened with honey.  It’s Rhines’ own dogma of nutrition that guides the menu. 

That menu, by the way, doesn’t list prices.

"Pay what your taste buds say," Rhines explains with a modest smile and a solemn, soul-searching stare that warns not to pay too little. "Some people, they just come in and give us whatever they can, and some people, they do much more.  Just the other day these businessmen came in on their lunch break from downtown and they paid $200 for lunch.  Oh, that was great.  But not everyone can do that, you know?"

It’s a business practice he hopes will make healthy food available to all residents of South LA, which, according to a Los Angeles Times review, has the highest concentration of fast-food chains in the city and has been haunted by the adverse effects of overconsumption of fast food, including diabetes and obesity.  Just across the street, the garish red, square-shaped sign of a Jack-in-the-Box is a towering reminder of that fact.

The world outside the walls of the cafe bears reminders of the community’s other afflictions, too.  Every storefront on this block has barricaded itself with steel armor that is rolled down or slid across and locked up at the end of the day.

"Some people, they like to call this area the jungle.  Well, if you call it that then the people are going to act like animals.  But that’s self-hate.  What we need is self-love," Rhines preaches.  He’s a poet and much of his poetry addresses this need for self-respect and cultural identity in the African-American community.  He frequently interrupts his own speech with a slow and measured demand: "Let me share a poem with you."

Who will save the Black Male Child who’s lost his smile because he feels no pride?

The Black Male Child is growing wild he feels self hate self doubt inside!

The Black Male Child needs all your love to help uplift his life!

The Black Male Child needs self respect to turn from drugs and street gang strife!

At home in school the Black Male Child is seldom understood!

He feels put down and all alone oftimes he feels he’s not much good!

Rhines’ poems, like this one called "Black Male Child," gain their meaning in the performance.  They ebb and flow in waves of volume, and they’re speckled with long interludes of jazz-style scat.  As printed in his self-published anthology, the poems are long blocks of text with scarce punctiation, broken up only by these long patterened strings of vowels and consonants.  When performed, they’re an interactive experience which engage the audience.

 

 

 

 

Natural Soul Food Non Profit Cafe is located at 1444 W. Martin Luther King Blvd. and open 9:30 am to 9:30 pm daily. (323) 298-0005

http://www.naturalsoulfood.org