My Fatherless Journey
My childhood in New York City was very difficult for me. I grow up in a predominantly Hispanic Dominican decent neighborhood in the upper Manhattan area called Washington Heights. Washington Heights in the early 90’s was the heart of the drug trade. The norm: Drug attics (crack heads) used to be in the corner blocks on lines to buy drugs, just like if it was Black Friday at a Walmart super store. At one point in the 90’s it was considered one of the worst neighborhoods to raise a child. I remember in the news, the news anchor reported that New York City was recognized as the crime capital from the 1950's through the early 1990's. I remembered like it was today, I was living on a twelve’s level brick stumpy income housing development on 180
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Through my fatherless journey I learned it was extremely challenging to find positive humans who were not committing crimes in or around my neighborhood. I used to continuously listen, that nearly the majority of kids my age were getting in trouble with the cops. One afternoon I was seating on a green milk crate in front of my building, as I sat there with a confused mind, I started thinking out loud, is this the life that I want for my family (mother, brothers) to live? I guess at the point I was thinking like a man at the age of 10. I had a sense of knowing what living the “American Dream” was. One hot summer weekend in 1993, I went over to my cousin’s house in Long Island, they were actually living the “American Dream.” My Aunt and her husband both had pretty good paying jobs. My Aunt was a Hotel manager and her husband was a New York City Police Officer. They were able to afford to live in a community that was great, low crime rate and in a respectable neighborhood. It’s not like we had a choice to live in a place that was full of negativity, my mother was low-income and she tried her hardest to provide us with the “American Dream.” At the same time it was so difficult for her to give us that opportunity, she was not making enough money to try and move us out to a better, safer place but she tried her hardest to give us that better, safer place or what we called the “American
Through my fatherless journey I learned it was extremely challenging to find positive humans who were not committing crimes in or around my neighborhood. I used to continuously listen, that nearly the majority of kids my age were getting in trouble with the cops. One afternoon I was seating on a green milk crate in front of my building, as I sat there with a confused mind, I started thinking out loud, is this the life that I want for my family (mother, brothers) to live? I guess at the point I was thinking like a man at the age of 10. I had a sense of knowing what living the “American Dream” was. One hot summer weekend in 1993, I went over to my cousin’s house in Long Island, they were actually living the “American Dream.” My Aunt and her husband both had pretty good paying jobs. My Aunt was a Hotel manager and her husband was a New York City Police Officer. They were able to afford to live in a community that was great, low crime rate and in a respectable neighborhood. It’s not like we had a choice to live in a place that was full of negativity, my mother was low-income and she tried her hardest to provide us with the “American Dream.” At the same time it was so difficult for her to give us that opportunity, she was not making enough money to try and move us out to a better, safer place but she tried her hardest to give us that better, safer place or what we called the “American