The cage Essay

A prison guard stands two feet in front of me. The guard is Henry my C.O. a 62, 260 pounds, dark charcoal skin male. Henrys blood shot eyes are staring directly at my soul. He is screaming my number, 0-3-4-7-1-5-6! Ready for class. I nod; my clean sandals and hand creased khaki uniform are impeccable. I am ready for another day of school in Chinos maximum-security level young adult correctional facility. As I am told to stand facing the white-less graffiti wall my mind wonders. My legs and hands are at a spread eagle pose. I am padded down, for my teachers safety. After the quick search I am told to be in a duck and cover position. Henry handcuffs me and then proceeds to cuff my legs. He pulls me up and my journey to class begins. Herman G. Stark schooling made me think of different possibilities in life. As my mind wonder off, dreaming of a better life and a new tomorrow I realized that this was the place that would change my life.The State of California is required to educate juveniles even in prison. I had never cared about my feature, schooling, or my success. All of my concerns were about my neighborhood gang. I was born a gang member; my mother, uncles, aunt, cousins, and my two dead brothers have all belong to the same gang. I never took an interest in school or life. All my attention was focuses on being the hardest and craziest gangster ever to walk the dark lonely alleys in my neighborhood.First of all I was forced to go to school at Laurel Elementary in Oceanside. At the age of ten I was already in probation so if I missed classes more than twice a week, I would sometimes find a police officer or my probation officer in my front door the next morning. Ditching class or not attending school was a violation of probation so I was forced to attend. When my day at school was over I would spend my time selling drugs or stealing from my classmates. At night my time was spent using drugs such as marihuana or meth, stealing from cars, houses, stores, and from people. Due to the slack of sleep an interest in school, I was sent to a continuation school.My second school was named Mission Clair Burner also in Oceanside, this school was specially for drug addicts, trouble makers, gang members and mentally challenge kids; a ten room, dark brown building with no playground or lunchroom. The only thing I like about this school is that unlike any eight hour regular school this one was only five hours long. I dislike this school because in my first day in this war zone I was confronted by a crip gang. Five crip gang members with not so friendly faces walk up to me. Lil Wyno, a half African-American and Mexican crip, pulled a double bladed butterfly knife assuming I would be scared and ask me, where you from cuz. I swiftly answer diecisies veinte locotes rifa. After my answer, he stared at the tattoos in my left hand knuckles. V P L S 20s my knuckles read and after looking at my tattoos they retreated. The next day I was not so lucky. A new student was transfer from Lincoln Junior High School. Toker is the nick-name he went by, a rival gang member. He got sent to my classroom. I remember as he walk in the classroom trough the metal detector feeling all cool and smiling; he suddenly stop his face gesture change quickly as he looked at me with dreadful eyes. I got up from my chair and went to introduce him a punch to his left cheek. The professor tried to stop us, but only got hurt in the process. This is the reason I got expelled from continu…Read entire d