So my life was a little different from a lot of Asian American kids that you see. Most Koreans who own liquor stores in shitty neighborhoods usually live in the suburbs. Northridge, South Pasadena, Fullerton, Cerritos are all places that these Koreans tend to buy their homes so that their kids don’t have to face the experiences of the inner city that they are in. My parents were slightly different in this sense. They decided to buy a store in the Boyle Heights area of East Los Angeles. Not only did they buy a store there, they decided to buy a home right behind the store. Thanks mom and dad for making such great future decisions!
If you are not familiar with East Los Angeles, let me give you a brief description. Every one there is Mexican. Not El Salvadorean or Puerto Rican or Cuban but Mexican. This wouldn’t be so bad except that everyone in my neighborhood were basically drug addicts, thugs/cholos, and criminals. On top of that, school was taught in bilingual education.
So for a kid like me to be accepted by the other kids in the neighborhood, I had to fight them first. So this is my recollection of my first fight ever. The kids in the neighborhood called me Chinito which basically means little Chinese boy. I was upset because they said it like they were trying to insult me. It wasn’t the meaning but the tone that pissed me off. So this kid named Christopher a.k.a Boo Boo called me the dreaded Chinito. To which I called him a Wetback, due to my mom’s instructions. We got into a fight at the park near my house. Boo Boo was about 2-3 years older than me and about a foot taller than me. I remember being so scared because I was a pit of a pansy growing up. Anyways, so as the fight commenced, Boo Boo hit me good with a shoot to the face. My knees became noodles. I was such a bitch for getting clocked once in the face and I crumbled to the ground.
I walked home with tears streaming down my face. My mom was in the kitchen when I walked in. She saw me and asked what happened. I figured if I told my mom, she would comfort me but boy was I wrong! She looked at me and said you are not allowed in this house unless you go beat that kids ass. She pushed me out the house and locked the door. It was around dinner time now and I was hungry. But if I don’t kick the dreaded Boo Boo’s ass, I wouldn’t be able to eat dinner. So my only choice was to go to Boo Boo’s house. I got to Boo Boo’s house and he is at home with his family. I guess his family found it weird that I would walk into their house but they didn’t say anything. I walked right up to Boo Boo and threw a haymaker that connected right on the button. He didn’t even flinch! I thought if I hit him with all that I had he would die or something. But he didn’t even move back. But then after a 4 second delay, blood started pouring out of his nose. The sight of his own blood triggered him to cry. His parents just didn’t know what to do. Some little asian kid walks into their house. Walks up to their son and sucker punches him. If that happened to my kid I would not know what to do.
As soon as Boo Boo started crying, I turned around and walked home. I told my mom that what happened and she let me in the house. That’s when I first learned that my mom hates losers.
