We can’t choose our family, but we can choose our community. Many of us who have gone through the house got here because, at one point or another, we chose the wrong community. We fed the dark wolf while our light wolf withered. Often we make these decisions, but sometimes, like in the case of Jessie S., we were born into the violence and desolation. It takes a village to raise a child, but what if the village doesn’t have the child’s best interest at heart?
Jessie grew up in North Hollywood—not the newly gentrified theatre district area of North Hollywood. Jessie grew up in “The Hood.” Raised by a strong single mother, with a father he never met, Jessie was born to feel like he had to take care of his family. “The man of the house.” His street was riddled with crime. “There was a cop station right on my block. It didn’t seem to make a difference because there were prostitutes right outside the station, drug dealers—it was like the projects.” People were being shot every other day. The neighborhood was chaos, a warzone in the Valley and the cops weren’t doing anything to help a young, impressionable Jessie stay out of that life. Serve and protect.
In all actuality, Jessie’s criminal career started off rather innocently. It started with his love of art. As a child, he always loved to draw. By the time he hit 13, he started to fall in love with graffiti. He and his friends would tag the streets nearly every day. The name for a group like that is “Tag Bangers.” There was a large group of them. Enough that the local gangs started to take notice. “They wanted us to join the gangs, but we were our own thing, and that created this big war. Then we started selling drugs on the streets. That created bigger problems. It’s always a money thing.” Before he knew it, his love of art turned into gun violence. That’s when the taggers got what is referred to as “the green light.” Now, this is much different than Hollywood or traffic signals. This means that every gang had free reign to kill Tag Bangers. They all had the right, as far as the streets were concerned, to kill Jessie.
Around that time, Jessie was arrested for robbery and grand theft auto. At 17, he was tried as an adult and sent to prison. Before this, he had been served small stints in juvenile hall, but this was his true first sentence. To him, this was a right of passage. Growing up, he always knew that one day he would spend time behind bars. It was just the way he lived…and he was fine with that. He had made peace with the violence. “When I was 18 I looked like I was 14. So, I had to do what I had to do to not be swallowed up by the sharks.”
During this extended sentence, he had a chance to pick back up his first love. “I had all the time in the world. So, I just drew and I tattooed…It was something that took me out of that world. It was my escape from all the chaos that was going on in there.” But that reprieve only lasted as long as his cell time. Once he was released, he was right back to what he was doing before. “I was still very involved because, when I got out, I had more clout…The lifestyle is what I was mainly addicted to. It wasn’t just the drugs. It was the whole lifestyle. I was someone in my gang. It wasn’t easy to let go of all that.”
Jessie started doing work as an extra in movies and television, but of course, his hustle was still as strong as ever. So strong, in fact, that he would sell drugs to the cast and crew on set. He was frequently called back for more jobs. Within months, Jessie went from being in prison to being in the movies…but that wouldn’t last long because, later that year, he would find himself smoking crack in a tent on the side of the road. Of course, this lifestyle caught up to him eventually and he was hit with another charge. This time for having a gun on him. This would be the first of Jessie’s five gun charges.
Carrying a gun was normal for Jessie. Everyone in his neighborhood had one. Everyone in his neighborhood had to. When people shot at you, you had to shoot back. Every other gang member knew that Jessie had a gun on him and, just that knowledge, kept him safe. “I’ve been to a lot of funerals. Dear friends of mine have been killed. The fear of being killed is why I would always carry a gun. It was all out of fear.”
Through all this activity, Jessie became a father. First to his son, and then later to his daughter. Due to his activity, he hasn’t been allowed to see his son. For a while, things seemed okay between his daughter’s mother and him. They were together and Jessie joined the plumber’s union…but the life he couldn’t abandon caught up with him again and he found himself back behind bars. But this time, things were different. He had a daughter on the outside that he knew he needed to protect. The court didn’t see it this way. “Since this was my fifth gun charge, they were trying to throw the book at me. They were trying to get me for every bullet in the gun.”
So, he picked up the phone and called a Jewish treatment center he had heard about years prior. Carrie Newman in alternative sentencing answered. They spoke for a bit, scheduled another interview, and Jessie missed it…and then missed the make-up interview. By the third attempt, Carrie had rightfully had enough of him. But Jessie had it in his head: He was going to Beit T’Shuvah. “Not only was I so intrigued by Jewish religion, because of the unity, but because of the discipline it brings. I wanted to learn about the culture and the community.”
After bailing out, being on the run, and being plopped right back in jail, Jessie called Carrie once more. For some reason, she decided to give him another shot. “She said, ‘I’ll come up whenever I come up there.’” The only issue: Jessie’s court date was rapidly approaching. Carrie made it there, interviewed him, and was impressed with the changed man she saw. He had turned a corner. After getting through the first assessment, this meant Jessie was eligible for the second. The purpose of the second is to get to know the person and to see if they fit into our community. As the court date got closer and closer, Jessie started to sweat—fearing he would not finish the intake process in time. A few days before the court date, he called and found out that Carrie had come to give him that final assessment, but the jail was on lockdown and she couldn’t see him. His window had closed. But it just so happens that when God closes a window, he opens a cell door. Three years prior, Jessie had done an interview with a YouTube channel called Soft White Underbelly. In this video, he told his story, talked about himself, and got vulnerable. At the time, he did it for the couple of hundred dollars they gave him that he could spend on drugs. Little did he know it was about to change his life. In a Hail Mary attempt, Jessie told Beit T’Shuvah about this video. “I said, it’s either this or nothing.”
The day before his clock struck sentencing day, he called Beit T’Shuvah and received the good news. He was in. They were so moved by how raw he was telling his story, even back when he was actively using, that they knew he deserved to be here. “I knew that life was over. When I left jail this time, I left all that with it. As I got in the car with Carrie, I looked back and told myself, ‘I’m not going back in there ever again,’ and I meant it with all my soul.” When he finally got to his bedroom at 8831, he sat on his bed and cried. He was home and he was safe.
Beit T’Shuvah’s slogan is “Recover your passion. Discovery your purpose.” These are not just words we throw around. In the last four months Jessie has been here, he has truly done both. Art, the tool of his escape and the gateway to his gang life has found new meaning here. When Beit T’Shuvah learned about his love of art, they decided to let him paint murals on multiple walls throughout the campus. The ability to use his gifts to give back has revolutionized his recovery. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who lives with more gratitude than Jessie. It seeps from his pours like sweat in the sauna.
We can’t choose our family, but we can choose our community. Being born into a community of violence and oppression molded Jessie into someone he always knew he didn’t want to be. For most of us, Beit T’Shuvah has become our chosen community—our chosen family. This Beit we call home is built on a foundation much greater than concrete or stone. Beit T’Shuvah is a place where the repentant find solace and forgiveness—where love is the weapon of choice. The man who stands before us today is one on the road to redemption. He’s put down the gun and picked up a brush. He’s painting himself a new portrait. He’s Jessie and he’s a grateful member of this community.