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Killings in Richmond
"There’s so much violence, it restricts my freedom..."
By Devante Kelly
April 17, 2007
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Youth Radio's Devante Kelly talks about the violence in Richmond, and how it affects his freedom and family relationships. Devante tells his story of growing up, and how he learned to respond to a fight.
When you walk into my house, my mom has a whole wall filled with obituaries and posters for our family and friends who have died. I hate living in Richmond. Every couple of days, one of my friends tells me somebody got shot or killed in my city.
I remember one day I was at school and my mom called me and told me one of my uncles had shot himself by accident. He used to carry guns because he wanted to protect himself. After he died, I was so sad that I didn’t go to school for a whole week. There are other people who have died from violence that were close to me too, like one of my friends; two of my mama’s brothers; and three or four of her cousins. There are so many people I can’t even name all of them.
A lot of people in my family told me growing up, I ain’t always gonna’ have somebody here to help me. They started telling me that when we first moved to Richmond when I was six or seven. Kids would ask me where I was from…and I would end up fighting them because I was from Oakland. I had to go to my uncle and other family members to ask them if I should fight or just walk away. Most of them just said to fight. I had one person – my grandma – who told me to go and tell a supervisor. Then if the supervisor doesn’t do anything, said my grandma, just do what you gotta’ do.
Just recently, someone was shot by my house after getting in a high speed chase with the police. When I heard about it, I was shocked. I didn’t think anyone would get out of a car and just start shooting at the police for no reason. After it all happened, the man was picked up by an ambulance.
The police were there all day and all night. They were there when I left for school in the morning, and they were still there when I got home…along with a bunch of yellow cones where the bullet shells landed.
There’s so much violence, it restricts my freedom: I can’t go outside without worrying about someone coming through shooting. When I ask my mom if I can go outside, she says no. She doesn’t want anything to happen to me. Her boyfriend often persuades her otherwise, he says, “Yeah, you can…just don’t be wondering around because I don’t want you to get hurt either.”
When I’m outside, I’m usually playing football with my friends, or walking to get something to eat around my neighborhood. I often look around, to make sure there’s no one creeping up on me. You never know when someone might pop out and rob you. I’m not scared, but I’m aware. Now, if someone tries to fight me, I’m not going to tell no supervisor. I would start fighting, and defend myself.
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