I watched a documentary, Rubble Kings, on NetFlix last night. It’s about the New York City gangs of the 60s and 70s, and the peace treaty brought about by the Ghetto Brothers. The interviews were good, and I enjoyed the old news footage of the time.
What I liked most, though, was this:
In the ruins of the Bronx, abandoned, despised, maligned, the Black and Latino youth of the city made a choice. They decided to stop fighting and killing each other. They decided to organize. To assist their communities. They decided to give aid to the needy, food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless. They made peace with each other on their own terms, with no authority from above telling them what to do.
There’s a moment when the leaders of the Ghetto Brothers are being interviewed by a wall of New York media. And they announce a peace plan, and the cameras start to turn off, turn away. And these two young men realize that the news is there to see poor Latino men die, not see Latino leadership. And they vow in that moment to be something better. Out of *sheer spite*, if for no other reason.
Out of sheer spite, if for no other reason.