Meeting a woman so different from you can change your perspective on everything—life, the world, and so much more—especially when that person is so much better than you. Growing up on the streets, my gang was everything to me. I fought, bled, and sacrificed so much for the gang. Was it right? No, but it felt right. No, correction—I loved it. I loved it so much that I lost myself in it. Being in a gang involves almost everything that’s against the law. It’s dark, twisted, and society rejects you. You live lost in the darkness, involved in things that are no good. Yeah, the bad guy, always looking for trouble, always on drugs. And what? The bad guy doesn’t care.

People tried to talk to him, to make him see sense, to redirect his life. Maybe they saw some good in him. A woman told him she’d keep him out of trouble. Another said she wished he loved her like he loved the gang. The same woman told him if he didn’t change, she would leave. It didn’t work. The gang was his life, his heart, all he knew. “Gang, gang, gang” was all he could say. The gang took so much from him—school, education meant nothing. While other kids were in school, he was just tolerating it, getting into trouble. Violence took over his life. Rival gangs were something to look forward to. Women were just passing by. Money was made, stolen, spent, and the whole cycle repeated. The gangsta life—plus so much more darkness, loss, and pain.

Then I met her in solitary confinement. Of all people, it was her—a Chinese woman—who became a friend. Not a guy, but a woman who became dear to me. We talked so much. But when she asked or I told her about this life, she actually said it was awful. I laughed at first, thinking, “This is true; this is a part of life.” Not common to normal society with its education, college degrees, businessmen and women, entrepreneurs, and people who work hard and live a normal, innocent life. But for me, poverty, gangs, violence, drugs, prostitution, gambling, human trafficking, robbery, weapons dealing, and more were normal. It was all I had ever known. But it’s not okay. And the way she kept saying “awful” showed me it really wasn’t okay—awful was the right word.

As time went on, I saw so much good in her. Spending time with her started to change me because she is so much better than me. Her views, her perspectives on life are so good, while mine were so corrupted. But still, she rubbed off on me. They let us start our education in solitary confinement. I began to learn little by little, even though it took some explaining from my teacher and plenty of questions from me. I began to learn, and I felt happy and proud to learn fractions. These small accomplishments meant so much—so much good and positive things. Instead of learning how to sell drugs, I took joy in learning. There are times when I want to go against it, but I listen to her, think on it, talk to her about it, and her laugh brings me peace. Her keeping me company is a blessing. I found a companion in her, a friend, and so much more.

Since I met her, life has been changing little by little. She is a good woman, and I, someone who started out bad, now want to change and be a better person. Since I met her, life, in a gangster’s eyes, is changing—a woman who is dear to me.