Growing up in the streets of Iztalapa, Mexico was difficult for not only me but the rest of my family. As a kid I never understood why we must lock doors and never talk to strangers, but when teenage years hit me I soon began to realize what horrible city my family chose to live in. The poverty level may not have been high, but the crime rate in Iztalapa rises with every passing day; kidnapping, murder, and rapes threatened the men and women of the town.
The decision to move was first brought to the table when my mother saw how desperate people in our neighborhood were to commit crimes, sometimes for money, and other times just for pleasure; she wanted better for me. But the decision became final when our next door …show more content…
Growing up my brother and I had been well behaved and disciplined; this all changed with the move. My brother began acting out at home and at school. He began to get in fights, most of which he would start, mouth off to teachers, and disrespect me and my parents. He even went as far as to disreuguard alldisregardltural making fun of and not participating in anything my family tried doing to keep our cultural alive in our home. The worse "problem child issue" came with the new gang he decided to become a part of. Vandalizing street signs, skipping class, and sometimes not coming home for days. My families goal was to give me and my brother a better life, but he was ruining this for him all on his own. My brother decided to move in with one of his friends: the leader of the