Pictured above-me (left), Kendrick Lamar (center), Leti (right) dated October 2, 2011 

Dear Kendrick Lamar,

I was introduced to your music right around the time I graduated high school (Orange High Panther class of 2009!) and I became instantly hooked. Not just because The Kendrick Lamar EP had a completely refreshing sound compared to everything I was listening to at the time, but also because songs like Faith, Determined and Wanna be Heard had lyrics my spirit and soul were unknowingly desperate to hear. And not just to inspire me but to inspire the hip-hop community and all those who are heavily influenced by it. 

I grew up a pretty sheltered kid and when I hit middle school, the reality of poverty, drugs and gangs and how they impact families and the generations after them became a reality when I started becoming friends with the kids whose reality that was (as well as getting jumped by the girls whose reality that was). Even back then my friends would call me Mom because, instead of seeing them as hoodlums and nobody’s, I just wanted to take care of them. I always made sure they didn’t get “too drunk” or “too out of control” and get caught up. Although I came from a loving and healthy family, I could empathize with many of their broken homes and trauma filled lives and how their community impacted their lifestyle and their survival way of thinking. Eventually, my lifestyle quickly turned to selling drugs, using drugs, drinking every day, stealing, fighting and school hopping. It wasn’t until my life spiraled out of control after being sexually abused that I realized I wanted more for my life. 

At the beginning of my senior year, I decided I was going to quit drinking alcohol and graduate high school. When I was little, I used to dream of being a Vegetarian (I didn’t realize I was saying Veterinarian wrong lol) and fantasize about going to college and working with animals for the rest of my life-probably a common dream for most children. Somewhere along the line, the idea of going to college and pursuing a dream and career became nonexistent and irrelevant. I’m not sure if it was my new found passion for drugs, my lack of motivation or my deep lack of confidence and self-worth. Once I graduated high school, the idea of doing something meaningful with my life began to ignite my heart again. I couldn’t stop thinking about a prophet that had prayed for me and told me everything I had ever gone through and how God was going to use those circumstances to help other kids like me who have been abused. When those words were spoken into my life-I would no longer be the same. It was the first time I felt like there was purpose and destiny living within me.

I remember seeing a college counselor and him asking me, “what do you want to do with your life?” I thought to myself, “what am I good at?” Helping people. So I told him I wanted to help kids. After realizing I didn’t want to be a teacher or doctor he told me I should pursue a career in social work. I didn’t even know what that meant at the time. The counselor explained that most of the time, social workers work with foster youth in which many come from broken homes who have been abused and neglected. He continued to tell me that  if I wanted to help kids, those were the kids who probably needed the most help. I knew that I had a heart for youth-especially the youth that reminded me of my friends from middle school and high school-and I was down to try it out. 

Fast forward to meeting your music. In community college, I used to be front row at every show because I shared your heart to want more for Compton youth and youth all over the world. To inspire change  and let them know that they matter and that there’s more for them than the streets and gangs. Listening to songs like Little Johnny, Uncle Bobby & Jason Keaton and Barbed Wire ignited a curiosity about a reality that wasn’t mine but for some reason began to develop into a passion of mine. A passion to instill hope into the most hopeless of situations and people deemed hopeless by society. I don’t know why God gave me a heart for these youth, especially African-American youth in gangs and in and out of jail, but He did and your music only fanned that flame. When my dad began to pressure me to transfer to a university, I remember the song Determined inspired me to gain enough self-confidence to believe that I would be able to do so. My first internship was with disconnected individuals, many whom had previously been incarcerated, were trying to start over and avoid becoming a statistic of recidivism. I was 22 and the only woman in a room full of men and there were countless times I felt like I didn’t belong there. But I couldn’t help that the little flame in my heart so desperately wanted to impart hope into the people who had close to none. When I was asked by my supervisor to lead a group activity, I was so nervous. I thought to myself, “what could a young woman from the ‘good’ side of Orange County do to relate to these men and leave an impact in their lives?” It didn’t take long for me to decide that I was going to play a song that inspired me to pursue more for my life. I printed the lyrics and played the song Determined for them and we engaged in a conversation of what this song meant and how they could relate to it. I learned more from those men than I could have ever taught them myself and I’m so grateful that your song brought us all together. Through God’s grace, I ended up being the speaker at my university’s commencement when I graduated with a bachelor degree in human services. I made sure that the song Determined played in the background of the video that was filmed of my speech and graduation day.

I continued on to graduate school and pursued a master degree in social work. I chose a university in Chicago to not only travel and  live in one of my most favorite cities, but to learn about the systematic structures that cause oppression and proliferate violence in communities like the west side of Chicago. I had the opportunity to work with predominately African-American youth, most of whom were in gangs and forced into counseling because they caught a case as a minor. These young boys contributed to transforming my frame of view and helped me to further see life through a lens that I would never personally know what it is like to live. I remember the boy who made the most lasting impression. He was 16 years-old and very tall. His face rested with confidence and great seriousness. I remember being a little intimidated by him, but after spending five minutes in conversation, he was one of the sweetest most sensitive boys I had ever worked with. This boy had an extensive amount of trauma and grew up in a community where gunshots were like a soundtrack to his life. One day in session, he began to open up to me about the most traumatic experience he had ever gone through-an experience that almost ended his life at 14 years-old. In the middle of him sharing his story, he lifted up his shirt which revealed the result of gun shot wounds. My heart sank as he began to tell me he was targeted simply because he was walking in a neighborhood that he wasn’t supposed to be in. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he was only 14 years-old when it had happened to him. Many people probably would have been scared of this young boy if he walked past them down the street, but God allowed me to step into his life and see the fear he faced every day as I stared into his eyes. Many times my clients would ask why a Latina girl from Orange County, California was in Illinois helping kids from the streets of the west side of Chicago. I never really knew how to answer them. All I could do was tell them, “why not?” But in my heart I knew it was because it was something that was innate in me. Something that God put in my heart long before I was ever in my mother's womb.

In 2016, I graduated with a masters in social work and now work for a nonprofit in South Central, Los Angeles. I serve foster youth who have been removed from their families and are displaced all over the county. My position is unique because I focus on the strengths of these families and work towards providing resources and services that can help support reunification. Today I received an email from my program manager that our agency just ran out of funding and I was told I can no longer provide them services until the summer. Although I can temporarily change my position and work as a child therapist for the time being, a part of me is restless because this position allows me to step into the lives of children and families who have been affected by the poverty, violence and oppression that led them to the Department of children and family services (DCFS). The families usually trust me more than the workers because, since I am not employed by the department, I’m not part of “the system.” Although I work very closely with DCFS in order to help the families, my role as a community mental health provider gives me more favor in their eyes. 

I’m writing to you because today made me reflect on the journey that led me to this point in my career. The journey that has led me to have a righteous anger to not be able to do what I believe I am called to do. My heart continues to cry out for these families who deserve a chance to have more for themselves and not become another statistic and casualty of their society. Every time I set out to meet a new child, teenager or parent, my mission is to instill that seed of hope in them so that they are left believing their lives matter and that there is more for them, despite the odds against them. I’m writing to you with that same mustard seed of faith and hope that there is a possibility that this could reach you. Our agency is in need of financial support so that we can continue to provide services to the Compton community and South Central, Los Angeles area. If this does reach you, I’m no longer just asking as a fan, but as a fellow individual using their own talent, passion and career to influence the people around us in attempt to make a difference. If you can help my agency in any way, you would be empowering us to provide invaluable support to the ones you and I value most. Either way, I am grateful for all that you have done for myself and the community thus far and for inspiring this young Latina to believe that she too can make an impact in the lives around her. I know my journey doesn't stop here, and I plan to continue learning about the communities I serve and listening to the heart cries of the people. My long-term goal is a God-given vision to start a nonprofit of my own that will be dedicated to  serve as a program alternative to incarceration for "at-risk" youth-a last chance if you will-to instill hope in them at such a pivotal turning point in their life.

I pray you never forget what fueled your passion to make it out of the streets and create a platform to inspire others, like yourself, that they can too. I'll leave you with one of your own lyrics, "You know you the best boy, you gotta keep doing it. But don't forget when you do, just keep you in it."

Sincerely,

Sheila

"That Girl Faith"