The worst thing growing up in both a black and Mexican household. I knew my biological parents and they were actively in my life. My adoptive family is Mexican and growing up in Southern California was never being truly accepted by the black community because I was living in a Hispanic household despite having having Afro-Latinos all across the world and where there is whole community of black people in Mexico where Gaspar Yanga (Gabon royalty) established. I’m happy everytime I got in trouble hanging with the crips my mother (biological) made me read encyclopedias and biographies on black leaders. She always reminded me that life is different for me because you’re a young black male which unfortunately meant I was an adult even though I was a teenager. Now that I’m on this spiritual enlightenment, I constantly tell my adoptive family as a reminder that I operate on a different set of rules in comparison to y’all and I need to leave this prison of a country to experience true freedom where I’m seen as a human being and not just another black male who is perceived as a threat who is guilty until proven innocent which isn’t always guaranteed.