Banzai's Beginning (known before as my high school years)

[Hanshi-Toshiro 150]

My life began in 1983, in south side Las Angeles to my strict, Japanese father and I never new my mother. None of my family has a military past, my father is a blue-collar worker and his extremely strict on the rules, as I stated before. My young school years were great, good friends and great teachers. But my High School years is where my life starts to get out of hand. 

It was 6th grade where my all-white school conjoined with an all-black school. Of course I was scared. These kids were not like me, and my friends have left me to go hang out with girls or other black kids. I wasn't like these kids, I was working class, I wanted a job; I wanted to work. These kids found their excitement and enjoyment by bullying me. Names like gook, jap, Asian boy and every Asian like insult you can think of. Look, Iv'e never done anything wrong in my life. I'm just trying to do my work and go to college. 

Until 10th grade when I was hassled, every-single day. The teachers did nothing, the principal did nothing; and most importantly, my friends did nothing. (wasn't like I has any friends) And I had enough. I started adopting neo-nazi styles and beliefs, I wore skinny jeans, bought a pair of black doc martens, white polo and red skinny suspenders became my everyday style. 

I no more sat down while kids yelled at me. I stood up and looked them in the eyes. I remember the first time I stood up for myself. I remember it so vividly, like it's a lucid dream. It was when I first turned 16, I was a sophomore. I was all-state on the baseball team, that was the only good time to relax, the whole team was white and they all loved me. But anyways, my normal bully was following me while I was late to practice. I began to get this wicked feeling, like I saw a ghost. So I began to panic, thinking alot sense the baseball field was like a half a mile away. And he just wont stop following me, he didn't talk, didn't call out to me.Maybe he was coming to apologize? no. Why would he?  So I began to realize I could just clock him right in the head with my wooden bat that I never used. I stood around the corner of outside of the library. I sat their and sat until I heard him right around the corner. Just right before he turned around I turned the corner with the bat hanging down towards my feet.

That was the first time I looked at him face to face. I saw his eyes, blue. He looked at me aswell, and went for his pocket. I lifted the bat up and socked him on the side of the head. The sound, the sound of a bat hitting a head. It was none like others. Not like a bat hitting a ball, like a bat hitting rock. I kept smashing his head until I saw his eye pop out his socket. Then I got scared. Very, very fucking scared. Long story short I did 10 years in prison on a mentally insane charge. Later known the kid had a 9 mm pistol on him. 

Edited October 8, 2016 by Hanshi-Toshiro

[Hanshi-Toshiro 150]

When I went to jail, I felt even more pissed. I had no remorse for the man I killed. He made me do it, he was going to kill me. It was either life or death, and I chose life. But anyways, once in jail I was put with all of the loonies. These kids were mental. Not screaming padded walls mental, like sit their and watch tv static all day mental. My early days in jail were silent, I spent most of my time in my cell reading books. I was the only civil one in their! 

I never fought in jail. Everyday me and the crazies would go out on the basketball courts. On the other side of the courts was all of the gang members, crips, bloods, latin kings, skinhead and the rest you can think of. I would go and talk to them all of the time. Sometimes just sit their and watch them play ball and walk around. it was usually the Mexican gang members who would come and talk to me. They would tell me that I should stay in school, do my work and respect my mother. The other gangs like the bloods would come over and harass me. Crips wouldn't even come near me, they stood on the other side of the court. 

The rage I felt when the bloods came over was un-thoughtful. I heard the stories of the Mexican guys. How their brothers died in their arms and were stabbed 17 times. Without the tattoos their dangerous men, they earned those. I feel like jail changed me, for a good and better way. Bad way in my hate towards minorities has changed to worse to, a little worse. Good in how those Mexican gang members, what they told me I listened. 

Edited October 8, 2016 by Hanshi-Toshiro