I grew up in parts of Queens from which you could see much of Manhattan and, from a particular angle, you could even catch a glimpse of the South Bronx. Different names existed for the neighborhoods I lived in but most people today lump it all together as “Astoria” (mostly for real estate/financial reasons).
All of this means my friends and I navigated territories that included projects like the Astoria Houses, Ravenswood Houses, and the infamous Queensbridge Houses (the largest housing project in the U.S.).
An abundance of projects with proximity to Manhattan and The Bronx helped create fertile ground for legit gang activity.
The gangs I knew and occasionally ran with were not like organized crime nor like the almost exclusively gun-oriented gangs that soon followed. Sure, I saw firearms but the far more common weapons were right out of The Warriors: bats, chains, knives, and pure intimidation based on reputation.
Case in point: The Young Sinners.
The Sinners were a Bronx gang until they expanded and created a division in my neighborhood. We were a very diverse group but when it came to gangs, things could suddenly turn into West Side Story. The Young Sinners, for example, were Hispanic. We all mostly got along and played lots of sports together, but a racial divide could emerge when it came to fighting.
The president of the Young Sinners was known as Little Man. He was short and slim but feared. When I was about 14, he was probably 17 or so. Little Man liked my friends and I but when he was high, that could change in a hurry.
This one night, my friends were holding the handball courts at the local schoolyard when Little Man rolled up with his crew. They wanted the court my friends were using and things got tense. A very wasted Little Man produced a very long switchblade.
At that point, I was walking up to meet them. From a distance, I recognized Little Man from his huge Afro. Through hand signals, my friends made it clear that I should not enter the park. They yelled to me that they’d meet me “at Gary’s” and I got the message.
Gary was sort of the leader of the older guys (17 to 19 years old). He’s mentioned in this post:
I walked slowly until I was out of the Young Sinners’ sight and then took off to Gary’s apartment. He was there with a large group of guys so I told them that Little Man was threatening my crew.
With a sigh, Gary got everyone up and out. As we walked to the park together, Gary warned me to keep quiet and let him do the talking.
I can still see the relieved expressions on my buddies’ faces when I arrived with the cavalry. Gary had the numbers on his side but it would’ve been unwise to start a war over four punk kids playing handball.
He and Little Man talked it out. Everything would be forgotten as long as we didn’t “disrespect” the Sinners again. At Gary’s urging, we agreed and left.
Unexpectedly, within a couple of months, we were temporarily part of the suddenly inclusive Young Sinners. The gang wanted to start a junior division (ages 14 and under) in Astoria and asked a guy we knew, Lil’ Bug, to be the president.
He immediately recruited my friends and I and we immediately said yes.
In my myopic macho glee, the only challenge I could envision was how to hide the colors I was given. It was a denim vest with a faux fur collar — like the guy on the left in the photo up top. I couldn’t bring it home and risk having my Dad find it. Fortunately, someone agreed to hold it for me.
By day, we were wearing our Catholic school uniform. Once the sun went down, you could find us sporting Young Sinners’ colors. The irony still makes my head spin.
This arrangement didn’t last more than a few weeks before Lil’ Bug was arrested for selling weed and sent to reform school. The Young Sinners changed their minds about junior division and ditched the idea.
But it did earn us new street cred with Little Man and soon, we were playing handball with his guys like BFFs.
Why did I share all of this?
Well, I was recently pondering how easily we can get led astray by diabolical forces. When I was a kid, I could think of nothing “cooler” than wearing gang colors.
I wanted to be part of something that felt important and would bring me external validation — even if that meant publicly proclaiming to be a “sinner.”
As the 11-second video below highlights, I just wanted to rebel against whatever the authorities had to offer…
All these many years later, I’ve never stopped rebelling.
But I like to imagine I’ve gotten far more discerning when it comes to choosing my targets. Being a sinner (young or otherwise) no longer sounds “cool” — but I’ve still gotta keep my guard up.
Remember: Redemption and forgiveness are available to all of us if we take the first step and there’s nothing more badass than using your gifts and power to help, defend, and unite.
It’s a source of profound comfort to know that it’s never too late to turn back because I have not out-sinned God’s mercy and forgiveness.
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Love this post.
Two things off the bat:
1) My mother is from Queens, Jackson Heights and we had relatives in Astoria. I have a feel for that area--I was a Midwest suburban kid. My grandmother loved giving us tours of NYC-good memories
2) our stray Tabby kitten's name is Little Man. His baptized name is Little Man Two Thousand or LM2K for short. It's a reference to Elon Musk'crazy name for one of his kids
All that out of the way:) This post is such a good illustration of the choices we make. We choose to be of the world because it gives us some temporary value. God's value is eternal.
Second point on God's mercy which is so amazing.
Lately, I have a strong pull to forgiveness and praying for people I don't like. I'm in the back and forth of handing it over to God and taking it back.
Thank God for His mercy and patience with us!
Oh and LM2K™️