My name is Jesse Valdez. I'm a 17 year old vato from E.L.A., and I've grown up in a neighborhood where a lot of heavy things come down. I've seen a lot of my homies, my tights, get blown away by another varrio. For what? A name? My real tight homeboy Oso, 17 years old, got blown away at close range by an automatic. He was shot ten times in the head at close range. Oso saved my life because he jumped in front of me when he saw the other vatos in the slow-moving ride come up close to us. After Oso died, I began to think more about mi vida loca and where I was going with it.
So many of the vatos I grew up with are now dust. They got a high and a cool feeling but they also have changed. They seem to be in their own little mundo. I try my best to rap with my homies. I smoked dust with the homies. I sniffed. I got loaded with the homies for over 2 years, and I know what's happening in the hood, but thanks to God and to the church group I belong to, I now have a different road to travel. I know you vatos in San Jo have some of the same problems we have in our varrios in E.L.A. Our youth group, LOS HERMANOS UNIDOS Y LAS HERMANAS UNIDAS is a firme group, a lot of rucas, and all of us have firme times on outings, dances and club meetings and most of all learning more about the Lord. Thanks to Father Tom, a lot of my homies have changed, and a lot of us are thinking about getting jobs and some of us now think more about college. Somos Chicanos. We're brown and we're proud. Viva Chicanos! Viva La Raza!
