The Foster care system through my eyes Pt3

   Boooooom!!!!!! Boooooom!!!!!! Is all I heard as I was running home.  Once I got to the corner on my block I turned around ducked into the corner bodega.  Everyone in the store knew me and my family because we lived up the street.  In the city we all had a corner bodega that knew everyone in the neighborhood.  As I ran in there I remember everyone standing by the door gazing outside.  As soon as the saw me they asked me what was going on.  I told them I was as clueless as them.  Than we all heard the loud Booms again.  It was gunfire from the police officers.  They were shooting in the air because they had no other option to disperse the crowd.  What they couldn't do in ten minutes gunshots accomplished in 30 seconds.  You see everyone knows the rule in the hood.  If you hear gunfire you either duck or start running as fast as you can.  Everyone scattered like roaches.  The scene was unfolding like something out of a movie.  Little did I know that this was just a large school fight and that the streets had much worse in store.  Red and blue lights lit up the street in broad daylight.  The police had the situation under control and all the neighbors began to come outside to get the 411.  I could see my moms head poking out the window from the corner.  I started to make my way home because I knew she was nervous that I hadn't returned from school.  The police blasted their sirens as they sped away towards the precinct and in the last car I recognized JP's face.  That quickly at the age of nine I had a friend who was arrested.  I didn't see JP again until 8th grade almost three years later.

     By the time I reached eighth grade I had grown at least five inches and a love for basketball.  My school didn't have a basketball team but I was part of a little basketball club we made up in school.  Like I said earlier my mother was very strict and she didn't let me go to the basketball courts across the street from my house.  She said I was too young and the streets were too dangerous.  Frustrated I just waited patiently for me to become a freshman in High School.  In NYC when it's time to go to high school the students are able to submit an application for the school of their choice.  My mother didn't let me fill it out and threw it in the garbage.  She told me that I would attend Bushwick High School which was around the corner from my house in the opposite direction of my junior high school.  

Bushwick High School

Graffiti Mural on the school yard wall which can still be seen today!!!!

I know I said earlier that I.S. 291 had a very bad reputation in the neighborhood but Bushwick High had an even worse reputation.  Rumor had it that some girl was raped on the sixth floor and kids always had guns and knives on them.  In my mind I told myself there was no way I was going to this school.  I went to school the day after my mom took my application and I asked for a new one.  I forged my mother's name and turned it in.  A few weeks later I received a letter in the mail saying I was accepted to the Harry Van Arsdale School.  I was extremely happy but little did I know that my mother was not changing her mind for anything in the world.  Matter a fact I got punished for forging her name!!!! My world was crushed as the deadline for returning the application came and went.  Now the deal was sealed.  I was forced to go to my zone school since I didn't respond to any acceptance letters.  Yup you guessed it, Bushwick High School was my zone school.  My biggest nightmare had come true.  I would be attending Bushwick come September.

    

      I graduated Junior High School in 1997 the year Biggie was killed.  This was a crazy time in NYC.  The whole east coast west coast war was in full rage.  Not to mention blood gang members were conducting gang initiations all over the city.  Brooklyn was under siege by thugs cutting up people's faces for wearing the color red.  So you guys can understand the fear I had of attending a school known for it's violence.  

     My nightmare became a reality in September of 1997.  I was officially attending Bushwick High.  The hallways were dark and muggy.  People walked around with an extra macho bravado trying to mark territory.  I was short and young for 9th grade so people didn't bother me.  Most people thought I was one of those young kids who got skipped because he was smart.  I finally reach my homeroom and about 35 kids were outside the door.  Everyone seemed to be talking to this one white kid.  I say white but he was Puerto Rican.  In my high school there were no white students just white teachers. Anyhow this one white kid seemed to be very popular.  He was loud and had this cockiness about him that attracted everyone around him.  As the day progressed he had spoken to everyone else except for me. I didn't think anything of it and proceeded to carry on with my day. 

     The teachers in the school seemed to be more relaxed than the ones in my junior high school. I probably would have enjoyed my day more if I wasn't so nervous.  Math has always been my strong subject, and the teacher was asking random math questions.  I was answering most of them correctly.  The asked the white kid a question and he got it horribly wrong.  Everyone laughed hysterically at him and the teacher said some smart remark about me being the only smart person in the class.  The white kid was burning a whole through my face starting at me pissed off.  I wanted to disappear right there. The next five minutes seemed to slide by at a snails pace.  Out of nowhere the bell rang and I froze and couldn't even move.  He walked towards me and just walks right by me.  I was relieved that he didn't want to fight me right then and there.  I never had anyone teach me a fight.  Not even my dad.  He was the silent type that didn't talk too much.  My house was ran by my mother with an iron fist.  Did I mention she was only 4 feet 10 inches tall!!!!! Sometimes I felt like I wasn't even his son.  But all that would change that upcoming summer.

     The next day of school was the worst for me.  My older sister gave me a homemade haircut and most of you might be familiar with the name "Bowl Cut'.  Well that's exactly what I had and the kids in school made sure they let me know.  I was teased all day long and out the window was any hope of ever being popular in school.  It was nearing the end of the day and I was anxious to get home already.  The day had been full of insults and people laughing at me.  The bell rang and I just sat there waiting til everyone left the classroom.  I slowly got up and walked towards the door.  I reached the top of the stairs and almost everyone from the class was standing there waiting for me.  And out of the corner of my eye I see the white boy coming from behind me.  He had not forgotten about me embarrassing him after all....

to be continued.......

In case you missed part one and two here are the links

https://steemit.com/life/@mrviquez/the-foster-care-system-through-my-eyes

https://steemit.com/life/@mrviquez/the-foster-care-system-through-my-eyes-pt-2

I hope you all enjoy this story

Until the next post

STEEM ON!!!!!