Twenty-six years of service! What an amazing journey it has been for all of us involved with The Beat Within. It is hard to believe we have been doing this good work, day in and day out for this long. We have had the great privilege of meeting so many amazing people, inside and outside, along the way. We have all learned so much about ourselves, our communities and our neighbors through these meaningful interactions we have had over the years. We strive to be the best program possible, first and foremost to the youth we serve, and to our amazing partners. The Beat Within is the chance to tell your story. The chance to tell your truths. The chance to create your art, to inspire and give hope to those our magazines touches every two weeks. Thank you again for believing in The Beat Within.
It’s OT back again, tasked with bringing you guys a good positive message that will help you look at the bigger picture in life, so I’m going to take on the topic “to take back.” We all have had those moments in life. I noticed that when we asked that question in our workshops a few of you young readers and writers stood there stuck, trying to think. Matter of fact, I drew inspiration from one a particular young writer in the San Francisco Juvenile Justice Center that wrote something so sincere and I know it took a lot of courage to write it. It inspired me to do the same.
When I was fourteen/fifteen years old and going to school, I remember I would ask my mom for money so I could eat lunch. I remember a pizza slice at my school would cost $2. And it was hella good. All my homies would always have money to buy one and sometimes they would offer me one, but I would always refuse and say, “no thanks,” because I felt too embarrassed.
I remember I had worked that summer and I had to buy my own clothes because you know it sucks going to school with the same clothes as last year, even though I was short, I still grew a bit, and of course a few things would not fit me, including the shoes.
Back in those days, all us less fortunate kids had ways to avoid spending money. Some of us new how to manipulate the vending machines so when you pay for one soda two sodas come out. If you buy something from the vending machine like a Cinnamon Roll, we would slightly tip the machine and let fall just hard enough so that another one would slide out. Sometimes that was breakfast.
I lived with a lot of people at my house, many uncles, my aunt had helped me with my school supplies because my mom didn’t buy them, so I felt ashamed asking her for money. One time I did ask her, she yelled at me and said for what? I said, “Nothing.”
She already feeds me my dinner, and buys me things when she can, so I didn’t want to bother her. Every time I would ask my mom, she would also yell at me saying she had no money. This would lead me to try to find a job, but in order to work my mom had to give me permission, with a worker’s permit, and she didn’t want to because she was afraid that she would end up owing taxes. So, I had to resort to the streets and getting it the only other way available. I would hustle everything, even make fake bus passes.
One time, I was short a few dollars from one of my illegal investments and I was at home getting ready for school when I see some money on the ground. I knew exactly who the money belonged to. It belonged to my Uncle Alberto. He used to come home drunk every single night and would knock out leaving his pants laying on the ground.
I couldn’t resist the temptation, and grabbed about $7 because that’s how much I was short from my illegal business so I can flip the money. I told myself he’ll never notice because he’s drunk and I’ll put the money back in his pants tomorrow. Tomorrow came and I grabbed another $3 instead of putting the $7 back into his pants. Point is every time I would come up short, I would resort to taking money out of his pocket. His hard earned money that he worked hard for.
Even though he was a drunk, that didn’t give me a right to go into his pockets. I probably could’ve asked him for it and he probably would’ve gave it to me, since I was his favorite nephew. He never said anything, and I don’t think he noticed, (or so I thought) until one time I heard him talking to my grandma saying that he thinks someone is taking his money. My grandma would tell him, “You need to stop, drinking Berto.”
He would say, “I don’t even drink.”
I would laugh watching mother and son argue, but really I was like “He’s on me.”
I was the only one that would come into the room early morning before anyone would wake up because I had to get ready for school really early and the bus ride was like 45 minutes. So I became the number one suspect.
He accused me one time and I flat out denied it. I then noticed he wasn’t coming home belligerently drunk, and he was more on point each night. So I didn’t commit the mistake to keep going into his pockets, but one time I was offered a deal I couldn’t resist so I could make my money triple, and again I was short $7, and I did it again.
Both my grandma and my uncle said, “Hey, what are you doing?”
I said, “Nothing,” and ran out the room.
I got caught but denied my involvement later. I would make sure to put the money back on Friday and when I did that that’s when they noticed. He made sure not to drink, and also made sure he counted his money properly. I got caught, but I still denied it.
Boy was I an idiot. I mean he’s my uncle. I could’ve just asked, but I was so used to being rejected from everyone else I thought he would say no. We never talked about the incident again, and we acted like nothing happened. He never stopped showing love to me, because after all I was his favorite nephew.
I never got the chance to say I’m sorry for those stupid actions I committed because I was embarrassed to even admit it. We actually hung out a few times, even went out for drinks and he would always look out for my twin daughters. When I got locked up I needed help for more money for my attorney’s fees because the Immigration lawyers stole my money, he helped me out with some more money.
He wrote me a few letters while I was in a facility in Texas, actually saying some pretty nice things. I knew he had Cirrhosis of the liver at that time, and he was on a very long waiting list for a liver transplant. Then I remember calling home one day and everybody was crying saying that he had a heart attack and passed away. This was in July of 2013. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. December 6th 2013, would be my deportation date.
He’s buried in Colma, CA. Passed away July 8th and I never got to say goodbye and I wish I could take back those mistakes I made. I wish I could have told him and asked him to forgive me. But I know he did, that’s why he wrote me that last letter before he passed away telling me he loves me.
See, people we can never take back anything we do or say. We all know that. We have to live with the fact and the results of what we did and we can’t be afraid, but we also can’t be afraid to make it up to that person. In the end before I caught my last case, I would hang out with him, take him out to eat, look out for him, and I didn’t just do it because I knew what I did when I was fifteen, I did it because he knew what I did and he still didn’t stop loving me.
Some of you that wish you could take back those things you said or did to your loved ones, don’t just sit there, and wish, because that wish will never come true. You have to focus on what you can do right now, and not be afraid to step up and ask for forgiveness and take your love for that person to a whole new level. See, life is too short to be sitting here thinking about what so and so did to us, or what you did to them. You either love someone and or are willing to let go, one or the other.
Why take back anything now? Why don’t you just make it your task to do your best and make sure that person knows just how special they are, every chance you get? Then you will never have to take nothing back. Love you, tio!
One love for everybody going through the struggle. OT is signing out with the utmost love and respect…and The Beat keeps going and going….
Thank you OT, for delivering such a powerful and loving story. We appreciate your heart and your truths. All right Beat friends, remember, this platform is yours to share your truths, and your art. Your voice and your story is most important now, more than ever before. Rise up to teach, share and help us make our communities that much better. Stay in touch, we want to hear from you. Thank you all for embracing The Beat Within.