Tha Ghetto From The Front Porch Of Compton (Part 1)

South Side Compton Crip Photo by cali_1987 | Photobucket

Ghetto is a place not an action. A place I spent my childhood days where I witnessed the struggle as well as live through it. Before the age of 5 I was introduced to sex, drugs, and crime. I didn’t know any better so to me it was all normal. I still remember the night I killed a corner of a 40oz bottle at age 4 sitting on the porch on Temple Ave in front of a baby blue 60′ rag Impala. Compton, a city filled with struggle, gang infested culture taking over the minds of the young black kids. Knowing nothing other than a pistol, big homies and banging the set seemed like the only future a ni**a had. With an absent parent in the household and the other out too busy working and when they weren’t working it was partying. Thank god for grandma looking after me and my other cousins. The front porch is where I spent a lot of my time, sometimes by myself or with my homie Ace or accompanied by any one of my cousins. For me life was at a stand still while I was out on that porch because I’d desperately try to comprehend the things I saw happen. When I looked across the street I often saw Chico in physical altercations with his girlfriend at least once a week. The police drove by shaking people down just because they could often resulting in arrest. I often wondered why police would come around the neighborhood and harass people. I lived in the neighborhood what’s known as the most notorious gang in Compton the South Side crips. To me all I knew was blue and gold head to toe. Some were family members, others consisted of guys and girls from around the neighborhood. With gangs came major crimes. I would go to sleep to police sirens, gun shoots and helicopters. Me and my cousins would sleep on the floor under the windows to avoid the stray bullets flying in flurries. The only reason we knew that is because our grandma told us in response to our curiosity. One of the saddest nights of my childhood came the night I was out on the front porch chilling with my homie Ace chopping it up. Can’t recall what we were conversing about given I was only a kid. Any who we had to cut our conversation short because he had to leave so I gave him a handshake and he walked out the front gate. As he was walking along the side walk a few yards from the house I ran to the fence yelling peace out big homie and as he looked back at me crossing the street waving a speeding car came down Temple Ave and hit him. I remember him flying in the air and me standing in shock with tears running down my face. When I came to I ran back in the house yelling for my grandma saying Ace got hit by a car over and over again. I couldn’t believe what I had witnessed that night and until this day whenever I think about him that scene comes to mind. Although he survived that night reality of my life in the ghetto had kicked in…

COMPTON- updated the community photo


2 thoughts on “Tha Ghetto From The Front Porch Of Compton (Part 1)

  1. This is a great post nephew. I’ve always wanted to blog, but never found or made the time. It’s good to see you writing your history.


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