Last night, I made a friend. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning. So I guess I made a friend this morning. He was about fifteen years old, and probably should've been home before dark. Instead, he was standing outside a gas station in South Tacoma, pants sagging, hands stuffed in his pockets.
I passed without a second glance, tried to buy a case of Coors Light, discovered you can't purchase alcohol anywhere in Washington state between the hours of 2 and 6 AM, settled for Ben & Jerry's, and headed back to the truck, slightly disgruntled. My roommate (TheRoommate) was still inside, and he had the keys. So I leaned on the hood, gave the kid (TheHoodlum) the man-to-man acknowledging head nod, and mumbled, "what's going on?" He returned the head nod and passed off a quick "sup." It wasn't even in question form. Somehow, this led to a conversation.
The topic turned to the local neighborhood. I mentioned in passing that I lived up on 96th Street. Apparently, my humble little apartment building is in the middle of gangland. No wonder the rent's so cheap. He told me he doesn't roll with any gangs, and that he gets nervous when he takes the bus to his girlfriend's apartment on 96th Street. As soon as he steps off the bus, he straightens his hat and pulls up his sagging jeans, because "96th is all GD, man, I don't want none of that."
Growing up between a lake and the ocean in suburban Massachusetts, I never dealt with gangs and the whole "GD" thing was lost on me. Anyway, TheRoommate returned, we said "later dude" to TheHoodlum, and took off toward the "GD" hood, 96th Street, home sweet home.
On the ride back, I mentioned the kid saying 96th was the GD's hood. TheRoommate replied with "Gangster Disciples? Shit." Wikipedia, which never lies, states the Gangster Disciples were formed in south-side Chicaago in the late 1960's, and are now the largest gang in the Folk Nation with an estimated membership over 40,000. And in Tacoma, 96th Street is their hood.
The topic shifted to why this young teenager was hanging out at a gas station at 3 AM. TheRoommate told me of the conversation he had with TheHoodlum. When TheRoommate asked what TheHoodlum was up to, TheHoodlum replied he was trying to get fifty cents for some Doritos. TheRoommate immediately called bullshit, and asked what he was slinging, because TheRoommate is a fearless drunk. TheHoodlum was slinging methadone (a synthetic opioid used to wean heroin addicts off the smack.)
I then realized I had just received a crash course in South Tacoma gang activity from a fifteen year old kid slinging methadone at 3 AM in front of a gas station. Sometimes I ask myself if this is truly my life, and if this seriously just happened. And the answer is always the same. It's always a resounding yes.
So this afternoon I did what any closeted nerd would do, and started researching Tacoma gang activity. It blew my mind. I realized how lucky I was that most gang members probably realized I'm just a clueless white boy. The Gangster Disciples and Folk Nation don't look too fondly upon the well-known Bloods street gang. Members of the Bloods wear clothing with the letter "B" on it to represent their gang. Unfortunately, the letter "B" is also representative of the Boston Red Sox baseball organization. I've been wearing the wrong colors and wrong letters in the wrong neighborhood for over a year now. Welcome to my life.
I also realized that nothing has happened yet, and I'm pretty much ignored by everybody I see on the street. There have been maybe two dozen gang-related shootings in South Tacoma since I moved here last May, but none targeting po' white boys wearing Red Sox caps. So I'm not going to do anything different. I may revisit this topic in the future, so for now, let's file this whole thing under "obvious foreshadowing I should've paid more attention to."
Thoughts?
-Jordan
PS: Don't take my use of "white boys" as racism, it's just a fact that Folk Nation and the Gangster Disciple street gangs are nearly 100% African-American. But I'm not known for political correctness anyway.
-J
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