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“I watched my best friend beaten to death . . . just for being a black teenager.”

December 1, 2015

Dear PRLF,

My name is XXX and am a current subscriber of "REVOLUTION", and a Captive here on death row at CSP San Quentin. This is in response to your letter dated where you are requesting stories about police abuse, racial profiling, etc. May this missive as well as personal testimony find you all in high spirits and good health.

I was born in December 1973. My father is a mix of Samoan and Fijian. My mother, Japanese, Native Amerika and Irish. My last name is my adoptive name. My mothers mother, she remarried to somebody else and was adopted by them. Growing up in Los Angeles, well, it was not as hard as many may think. Being mixed as I am with so many ethnic back grounds, I was able to pretty much fit in to any group of people, except whites. I went to a school with predominantly Polynesian, Asian, Afrikan and Latino students, being a person of color was and still is all that I know. We all knew one another, we all respected and looked out for one another. Even the whites who grew up with us were, well, not white at all. They were like the rest of us.

When I was about 14 years of age, I met a girl at a beach party in Seal Beach, California. She was one of those ritzy type girls, but me, well, I was really diggin her, feel me?? I spoke black, dressed black, and wore my hair in braids. She loved this about me and found me mystical in many ways. we dated for almost a year and toward the end of the relationship is where things got hella tricky.

Her parents hated me for real. Whenever I looked at her father, all that I could see is the disdain in his eyes toward me. He was white, as well as the mother. They both were raised in a culture to where if "One ain't white, they ain't right". Being that I was dating their daughter, their only child, so no wonder they hated the fact of her dating me. The only one who approved & nobody dared to speak against was the grandmother, the fathers mother, who was 50 percent Native Amerikan. If it were not for her, the relationship would have never lasted as long as it did. She simply adored me, and loved my Polynesian culture. At times, it amazed me how much she knew about it. Much more than I did, I would say. It was when she passed away, is when the inevitable happened.

After the grandmothers funeral, I happen to stop by to see her. My partner and me took the bus all the way from L.A. to Seal Beach which took almost 6 hours when taking public transportation. we did not mind, for we were going to sleep on the beach after the visit with her. When I got to the house, the father told me that she, my girlfriend, was no longer living there and that I was not welcome there any more.  I could not understand for she had paged me from that very house no more than 10 minutes before I got there. What happen after I left there was nothing short of a living nightmare.

As we walked toward the beach, my buddy was trying to comfort me. Once we got to the beach, it was almost 7:30 p.m., and we decided to take a stroll and get dinner. We drank a little and smoked a little. Feeling good, took out on our little mission. We decided to hop a fence and walk along a ravine, keeping clear of the obvious racist sheriffs that patrolled the beach area. passing by a Town House complex, we heard loud music and took a turn to see if there was a party. What we ran into is something that I can never forget. There was a group of about 20 to 25 white supremacy skin heads, decked out in their little white power t-shirts, and black steel toed boots. These cats were full grown men, here we were, just young teenage boys. Now, I remember standing my ground when one began to use racial slurs toward me and ole boy. Out of reflex I hit him, and from then on out, were we stomped and beat like rag dolls by these giant ass white boys. The bottom line, I laid on my side watching them beat my friend to death. I was in so much pain, I just could not move. All I remember was hearing those black boots crushing his skull little by little. I remember hearing the word "nigger, wet back, etc."  I could not get to my lifelong friend, for we grew up in the same neighborhood together, went to the same school, and shared our first beer together. I watched my best friend beaten to death. . .just for being a black teenager. It's something that will never leave me. I often wonder why it had not been me who was the one to die that way. I mean, it was MY idea to come and visit my girl. It was my fault, and I had to stop all of this. But I just could not move.

After they beat him, they came back to me and I blacked out. When I came to, I was in a back of a paramedics being rushed to the hospital. The shocking thing, I WAS HAND CUFFED TO THE STRETCHER!! The people in the building there in the community of white racist facist suburbia said that me and my best friend went there with intentions to steal a car and that they only protected their property. I was going to Youth Detention, for auto theft and my friend was dead.

Going to court as well as trying to plead my case to the cops and judge was a waste of time.  Nobody cared.  Nobody listened.  Nobody believed me.  To this day I wonder, what has happen to this so-called land of milk & honey?? Who the fuck are these people and what gives them the right to racially profile as well as murder ALL people of ANY color?? See, my friend and me, we were beaten because we were NOT white. As if we did not and still do not belong.

They robbed us of a decent life. From that day on, there has been a blazing fire in my heart. I sit in this little cell here on death row today because I did not know how to direct that fire, control it. Since my studies began, my desire and fire burn for all of the right reasons. My friend is gone, and I still live on. I am him, as he lives in me. 

REVOLUTION! The youth, the masses, the entire fucking so-called country needs Revolution!! I am learning. Learning by reading and understanding what Mr. Avakian teaches. I know why things are the way they are today. How it all began. It is obvious that with this white government and white judicial system, we do not have a chance. They attack us in our homes, in our schools, during family outings, at our churches, at our weddings, at our funerals, walking or driving down the street, minding our own business. We are targeted because we ARE NOT WHITE ENOUGH! I I THAT is the reality of it. We need to do something or it will continue. It is not only those with white skin and blue eyes who are the true enemies, but those who are raised within the same communities, and share with us the same wine bottle. It is OUR OWN WHO OPPRESS US!!! They are suppose to be the back bone of our communities. But they have decided to jump the fence and put on a police uniform, or go join a white mans military that is clearly made up of genocidal killing machines. They are sent out to kill the very people they once rolled with on the block back in the day. They join forces with the enemy.

In conclusion, I was sent to Youth Authority for attempted auto theft and the individuals who beat me and my friend, well, the police protected them because of who their families were. (money changes everything). Not to mention, the girls father, he made it a point to tell the police how much of a thug and hoodlum I was.  The police did nothing for me.  Neither did the Public Defender they assigned me.  He said, "Take the deal, you cannot win."  I was only being a teenager, minding my own business, and my life was turned upside down and shook in ways one cannot find words to describe. With that, I will close. Keep up the good work, for the masses need to be educated with the truth!! The truth that will change the course of life as we already know it. 

In Solidarity & Struggle

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