Chapter 3: A Taste of the Streets

By now… at just 14 years old,

the streets weren’t new to me.

And I wasn’t known to them either.

At first, I was just passing through—lost, confused, trying to survive day by day. But somewhere along the way… surviving started turning into something else.

Something I didn’t even recognize at first.

Routine.

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I wasn’t going to school anymore.

My family was looking for me,

and my mom would report me missing.

Days and nights started blending together. I moved how I wanted, stayed where I could, did what I had to do.

And the streets?

They welcomed me like I belonged there.

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Around this time… everything started changing faster.

I popped my first ecstasy pill.

That was the beginning of me really stepping into that world—feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

I had my first “street” boyfriend.

And I started soaking up game.

Watching. Learning. Moving different.

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I wanted money.

Not just a little… I wanted to stack it.

In my mind, this was my time.

My chance to get my own car.

To build something for myself.

And I did.

Money started coming in.

People started looking up to me.

They see the outside—

the clothes, the weed, the drinks, the freedom.

But they didn’t know the truth.

They didn’t know I was a working girl.

They just enjoyed being around me.

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I grew up hating authority—especially men.

Having a pimp was never something I wanted.

But I didn’t understand something back then…

Sometimes it doesn’t come like that.

Sometimes it comes disguised.

As a boyfriend.

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The guy I was dating…

I lied to him about my age.

When he found out, he stopped dealing with me.

Just like that.

But me?

I was still in love with him.

Even after everything.

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I ended up in juvenile hall,

then on house arrest,

back living with my mom in East Oakland—off 38th and International.

But no matter where I went… it felt like the same cycle.

Men always trying to pick me up.

It was like I had developed an eye for “tricks” …

or maybe they could just see it in me.

Either way, something had already shifted.

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I went back to school, trying to get an education.

But I couldn’t sit still.

Couldn’t stay in the house.

I started dating older men…

moving like I was grown.

Too grown.

Day by day, I changed.

The game started shaping me—my body, my mindset, my choices.

And without anyone really guiding me…

without support…

I created my own world.

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I even changed my name.

I wasn’t me anymore.

I was Cocoa.

A whole new person—

someone my parents didn’t even know.

But the streets did.

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I went to school in Alameda—Chipman Middle School.

Every day, I’d catch the 51 buses.

School… then straight to downtown Oakland.

That’s where everything really took off.

Buying weed.

Selling weed.

Hanging out.

Living two lives at once.

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Downtown Oakland was its own world.

A place where people ended up when they got pushed out of somewhere else.

Some were from the streets.

Some were just trying to survive.

Some were lost.

Some were trying to be found.

Not everybody was a gangsta…

but everybody had a story.

You could go down there and get a job.

Find a shelter.

Smoke.

Meet people just like you.

Or...

Lose yourself completely.

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And me?

I thought I was finding myself.

But really…

I was getting deeper and deeper into something

I didn’t yet understand how to escape.