(record scratching)
(beatboxing)
(horn honks)
(tires squeal)
Kuj, Kujichagu--
That time again, huh?
Sure is.
(traditional African music)
Umoja.
To strive for and
maintain unity
in the family, community,
nation, and race.
Kujishu, Kujichacalia,
Kujichagulia.
[Freddie] To define ourselves,
create
for ourselves and speak
for ourselves.
Ujima, these values are
called the Nguzu Saba,
which in Swahili means
the Seven Principles.
Developed by Dr. Karenga,
the Nguzu Saba stands
at the heart of the
origin and meaning of...
[Group] Kwanzaa.
For it is these values
which are not only
the building blocks
of community,
but also spiritual rejuvenation.
Come on now, rejuvenation.
Hum something.
Come on, hum.
(group hums)
Yo, that is way too much
work for a made up holiday.
What is wrong with a
pine tree and a fat man?
You know that
shit's made up too.
Kai don't care as
long as there's
a man giving her something.
Long as it's long baby.
All right, so let's get ghost
before aunt Gwen
changes her mind.
What?
Come on, y'all, you
know this is my steelo.
And plus we ain't got
time for me to change.
And plus, I make this
shit look good.
Yep.
Bam, you will change in the car.
[Roni] But what about this?
What's--
Oh, no, no, she
can't help that.
She was born that way.
Let's go hoes.
[Kai] That's your cousin.
No, see, that's your friend.
See I didn't have no choice.
I thought we were going
clubbing not thugging.
It's LA, you know
what they say.
Let's go hoes.
[Kai] All right My-E, yes.
Okay now.
Puff, puff, pass, boo,
thank you.
'Kay, sharing is caring.
Excuse me.
Guess who's been designated.
(women laugh)
Dang.
[Kai] Regulated.
(upbeat hip hop plays)
What you got?
Check it.
See they call me My-E
Coming straight from the IE
Rolling with my girls
Kai and cousin Roni
We the girls you
trying to get
'Cause we don't play phony
Don't step to us if you
weak, like wet macaroni
I said wet macaroni, wet,
wet macaroni
Say what
Wet macaroni, wet,
wet macaroni
Say what
What
(vehicle sputters)
[Roni] Whoa.
[Kai] Oh man.
I know Aunt Gwen got AAA.
It ain't going to be in there.
Nope.
Come on, cuz.
Nope.
Fine, I'll do
everything my damn self.
No, Aunt Gwen, we
didn't hit anything.
Well of course we were doing 65.
Yeah, it just went flat.
I know, we're going
to pay for it.
No, no jack.
Okay, see you.
[Homeless Man] Hey.
Fool, you don't know me.
Know there was a dozen, two
Jameses, Thomas, Thaddeus.
Persecution.
You need to back up.
All got a story.
Get off, get off of me.
What is he doing to her?
Happen again and again.
Get off.
Don't know why, but it do.
[Myeisha] Get off of me.
(thudding)
Who the hell was that?
(window knocks)
Hey, what's up?
Aunt Gwen got the
card at home.
She's calling AAA, telling them
where to find us and all that.
How long's it going to take?
[Kai] Long enough, excuse me.
Hi.
How you doing?
What's up?
What's your name?
Kev.
Is she trying to help
us or herself?
That's your friend.
Roni, please make
sure that fool
doesn't end up in his
trunk or something.
All right, come on.
Nah, I'm straight, I'm
gonna stay here.
You sure?
Yeah, I'm sure.
(light thudding)
(window raps)
[Kai] Yep, she out like Shout.
[Roni] Damn, this night.
Now what?
One, two, three, four
(radio faintly plays)
(window raps)
(otherworldly music)
(Myeisha breathes heavily)
Ever have one of those dreams,
where nothing comes out
when you try to scream?
Scream.
Scream.
See what I mean?
One of those dreams.
(otherworldly music)
(people march)
("Oh Holy Night" plays)
Oh holy night
The stars are
brightly shining
It is the night of our
dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in
sin and error pining
Till He appeared and
the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the
weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new
glorious morn
Fall on your knees
Oh, hear the angels' voices
Oh, night divine
Oh, night when
Christ was born
Oh, night divine
Oh night, oh night divine
(siren blares in the distance)
One of those dreams.
(bright Christmas music)
Christmas was three days ago.
Jingle Bells and ho, ho, ho.
Just so you know,
this ain't gonna
be one of them feel good shows.
Just so you know, so.
Christmas was three days ago.
Jingle Bells and ho, ho, ho.
Today's December 28th,
third day of Kwanzaa, Ujima,
to build and maintain
our community
together and to make our
brothers' and sisters' problems
our problems and to
solve 'em together.
I know you didn't know.
I didn't know until
Uncle Darnell
told me so during one of
his blackouts.
Oh, no, not that kind
of blackout.
That's just what we
call it when Uncle D has
one of his moments and is
compelled to bust you out
because of your lack
of blackness.
You'll see what I mean.
It's Ujima, though, Umoja,
Kujichagulia, Ujima.
So.
(upbeat hip hop music)
Me, Kai, and my cousin Roni
Dying to get our party on
Rolling to LA though,
tired of Club Metro
Oh, for those of you
who don't know me,
see, I was born and
raised in the IE.
That's the Inland Empire,
the IE,
60 miles east of the
City of Angels.
So, me, Kai, and my
cousin Roni,
Dying to get our party on
Rolling to LA though,
tired of Club Metro.
Four dance floors of hip-hop,
reggae,
and rock in Espanol and retro.
So, the Sentra starts to
rattle and pull to the right.
I cannot believe we got a
flat in the middle of the night.
Not tonight.
Okay, just let me get
the facts, folks.
What is the deal with
automobiles and my black folks?
For real?
And the fact that your
spare is always flat, folks?
For real?
And don't get me started
on a working jack, folks.
My black folks.
So, I wind up in a fix at
the Spirit of 76
that sits on Central
and Brockton,
gat in my lap in case
I rocked on.
One in the morning sitting
in my Aunt Gwen's ride.
I can't leave Aunt Gwen's
Sentra sitting on Central.
If it gets stolen, scratched,
towed, or broken into, soon as
I see her, I'm going to be
the one to get broken in two.
Aunt Gwen gonna to kill me.
Yi-ah!
(crowd cheers)
Well, maybe not kill,
but I sure ain't going
to be rolling in the
Sentra no more.
Feel?
Ever have one of those
dreams, where nothing
comes out when you
try to scream?
(window taps)
Tap.
So I'm sitting in the
Sentra on Central sensing
something sounding like
rapping, like tapping, like-
(beatboxing)
Who's that peeping in my
Nobody now
Tap.
(window taps)
I hear that tapping again.
Oh cool, it's Roni.
Well, let me let you in, girl.
Where you been?
I'm lonely, got me sitting
in the station in the middle
of the night, one in the
morning, losing patience.
Something, something
just ain't right.
(window bangs)
(window taps)
Now before you trip, let me
go on and admit that
I'm strapped.
Yeah, that's right.
I'm strapped with my gat,
at Central and Brockton.
38 in my lap,
case I get rocked on.
Yo, that's nice.
So I'm strapped with my
gat at Central and Brockton
38 in my lap, case I
get rocked on
Late at night in my lap
there it sat
There I sat, there I sat
There I sat, took a nap.
Rat-a-tat-tat-ta-ta.
(window taps)
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
I put the gat in my lap 'cause
I was a little terrified.
Tapping on the window.
Cousin Roni outside, so I say,
"Hold on cuz, let me
let you in."
Before I can, here comes
that damn dream again.
First, I can't holler,
now I can't even move.
Try to open the door,
but I can't even move.
Can't take this much more
'cause I can't even move.
Feel like a prisoner of
war and I can't even move.
Can't move.
Can't move.
Can't move.
Can't move.
First, I can't holler and
now I can't even move.
If you dreaming, Myeisha
girl, wake up now, fool.
(otherworldly music)
Roni, who you calling
this late on a pay phone?
You better come on so we
can get on and head on home.
(window raps)
Where you going to?
Where the heck you been?
I'm opening the door.
At least, I'm trying to.
Let me let you in.
I know you ready to go home,
girl.
I'm dying to.
We'll just explain it
all to Aunt Gwen.
You could just explain
it all to Aunt Gwen.
I'll just explain it
all to Aunt Gwen.
We ain't fixing no flat
tonight, forget that.
Aunt Gwen's just going
to have to get black.
We ain't fixing no flat
tonight, forget that.
Aunt Gwen's just going
to have to get black.
(screeching)
(beatboxing)
911, the jokes on you
Yes, could you guys come
down to Central and Brockton
to the 76 gas station
because my cousin is in a car
and she has a gun on her,
but she's passed out.
We can't get in the
car 'cause it's locked.
Okay, who's inside the car?
My cousin.
And she has a gun with her?
Yes, it's in her lap,
and she's passed out.
She's passed out?
She's passed out.
She's been drinking?
I don't know, we
just came to--
Do you think she shot herself?
Yeah, she has a flat,
I don't know.
Okay, what kind of
car is she in?
It's a Nissan Sentra.
Hold on, what color?
White.
So she's in the
car by herself?
By herself.
Have you tried to
bang on the doors?
Yeah, we banged on the
windows and everything.
She's passed out, we
cannot get her to wake up.
The music's loud,
so we can't do nothing.
Okay, I'm going to keep
you on the phone
until the officers are on
their way, okay?
On December 28th, 1998,
I was working the graveyard shift
when I received a call
from RPD dispatch
at approximately 01:55
hours assigning me
to proceed to the point
of origin of a 911 call,
which was Baines 76
Unocal gas station,
located at 6575 Brockton Avenue
in the city of Riverside.
The call conveyed that there
was an unresponsive female
locked in a white Nissan Sentra
with a visible
firearm on her lap.
So I'm strapped with my
gat at Central and Brockton
38 in my lap, case I
get rocked on.
At approximately 02:00
hours, I arrived on the scene.
When I spoke with the two
females who were standing
on the north side of the
gas station's premises
next to the pay phone,
the two females advised me
that the female in the locked
vehicle was a family member.
She appeared to be unconscious
and had a loaded
firearm on her lap.
I saw that the two
females were very upset.
She been, I'm sorry, has
she been drinking today?
I don't, I don't know.
That's what I'm telling you.
I don't know.
She had a flat tire and
she called the house
so she could get the tire fixed,
but we found her like
this, so we don't know.
Uh-huh, you don't know
what's going on?
Uh-uh.
Based on the demeanor
and the occupant's
non-responsiveness to her
family members,
I believed that the vehicle's
occupant was necessarily
in some sort of
medical distress,
especially because her
family members
did not know what was
wrong with her.
How long ago did she,
did you talk to her?
That was like 20 or
30 minutes ago.
Can you guys, can you guys
bring an ambulance with you?
Yeah, since we don't actually
know what's wrong with her,
and the gun, you can
just see the gun?
Yeah, it's in her lap.
It's sitting in her lap?
Uh-huh.
Okay, and she's the
only one in the vehicle?
Yes.
What is her name?
My name is Myeisha.
Y'all know us Ishas: Myeisha,
Moisha,
Ayish, Loisha, Lacrisha,
Tanisha, Tyisha.
We the Ishas, we the first
cousins to the Awnas.
Y'all know the Awnas: Loawna,
Tiana, Showana, Jowanna, Tawana.
(dialpad beeps)
How old is she?
She's 19.
19-years-old?
Uh-huh.
Okay, and the car's just
parked in a parking lot?
Yeah, at the gas station.
(siren whirs)
As I finished speaking
with the two witnesses,
Officer Hobart arrived
on the scene.
I informed Officer Hobart
that the vehicle's occupant
was apparently
unconscious and had a gun.
Because the occupant had a gun,
I knew that we would have
to secure the area to
make it safe
for emergency medical personnel
to render any aid
the occupant required.
How far is the, the
police station from here?
Well, they're just,
they're in the city
just driving around,
but they're on their way there.
Officer Hobart
and I approached the vehicle
with our guns drawn and
pointed downward.
Oh.
They don't sit at a
police station waiting.
Okay, here, I see a
police officer.
They found us right now.
There's a police car right now.
Hey.
Officer Hobart
approached the vehicle
along the passenger
side rear door
as I approached along
the driver's side door.
From my position behind the
driver's side rear door,
I could see the occupant's gun
on her lap pointed
towards the driver's door.
Okay, if they're coming--
In the drive--
The weapon was
readily accessible.
They're coming toward you?
After Officer Hobart
and I verified
the occupant had a gun--
Yes.
I held my position until
backup arrived.
Why don't you go talk to them?
Okay, thank you.
Soon as I hear the cops'
sirens, the first thing
that pop into my mind, "Man,
I wish I was a white girl."
Actually, cops kill more
white people than black.
Or at least a little
lighter than I am.
And not white in the,
"I can flip my hair
and I got blue eyes,"
kind of way, but in a,
"Officer, can you help
me out?", kind of way.
In the, "Young lady,
are you okay?
You look distressed,"
kind of way.
In the, "Are you okay?
You need a ride?
You look lost," kind
of way, but not today.
Tonight, my name is Myeisha,
and I'm black.
Might have had
a little to drink.
Those are just the facts,
but even still with all that,
I figure I should still
be all right.
I mean, if Roni couldn't hear me,
I must be asleep, right?
And if I'm sleeping, I'm dreaming
so it must be deep, right?
If I'm deep asleep, the police
will just wake me up, right?
Show some care, help me
find a spare,
even help jack me up, right?
To protect and to serve written
in black and white, right?
I observed that the occupant
was in dire medical distress
and in need of immediate
medical assistance.
I observed that the occupant's
mouth was slightly open.
Her eyes were closed.
Her breathing appeared shallow.
Her lips were quivering.
Her body was shaking,
and there was a white substance
that was accumulating around
the sides of her mouth.
Based on my prior experience
with persons overdosing
on drugs, I believed Jackson
was experiencing symptoms
which were consistent
with drug overdose.
Believing that time was
of the essence, I thought
that we should use the
quickest means available
to remove the gun from her
presence to make it safe
for emergency personnel to
render the necessary aid.
I would attempt to break the
window and retrieve the gun.
So I'm strapped with my
gat at Central and Brockton
38 in my lap, case I
get rocked on.
After verifying that all
the officers were in position,
I performed a silent
three count.
I then broke the window
on my first attempt
using the ASP baton.
I then dropped the baton
and leaned to tuck my body
into the front window and
grab the occupant's gun.
As I reached into
retrieve the weapon,
I heard a boom, which I believed
to be a gun blast going
towards my right ear.
So I'm strapped with my
gat at Central and Brockton
38 in my lap, case I
get rocked on
Once inside the vehicle,
I could no longer see the weapon.
I thought that the
vehicle's occupant
had grabbed her gun and shot me.
(tape rewinding)
Once inside the vehicle,
I heard (beep),
which I believed to
be a gun blast.
(tape rewinding)
Once inside the vehicle,
I heard (beep),
which I believed to
be a gun blast.
Once inside the
vehicle I heard...
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, Mr. Officer,
happy birthday to you
Officer Garland,
the one on the floor,
it's his birthday today.
He's turning 24.
(celebratory music)
Yo, wait, December 28th.
That would make the
officer a Capricorn.
Capricorns are supposed to
be practical and prudent,
ambitious and disciplined,
careful and patient,
humorous and reserved,
pessimistic and fatalistic.
December 28th, that would
make Officer Garland
a Kwanzaa baby, Ujima baby,
well, maybe.
December 28th, 1998, it means
Y2K is only a year away.
You heard of Y2K.
You ain't heard of Y2K?
Okay, they say one second
after 12, next New Year's Eve,
after they drop the
ball on New York, right,
things are going to go bananas,
for real, end of the world.
They say all the
computers in the world
are going to lose
their megabytes.
Even banks and stuff are going
to lose grip on their cash.
Now, of course nobody I
know is so naive to believe
that ATMs are going to go crazy
and start spitting out 20s.
I ain't saying I believe in
it, I ain't saying I don't,
but you know me, Roni,
and Kai got that ATM
on University and
Main staked out.
We just going to be in
the vicinity,
case cash start spitting out.
Think I won't?
But 1000 years, that's
crazy to even think,
1000 years of time, if
we're lucky, we get like 79.
That's like a blink,
like a wink.
(clock shatters)
But at least I get one of
the very few in the history
of the world to go from the
old millennium to the new.
Out of everybody in
history to ever live,
I get to be one of the very
few in the history of the world
to go from the old millennium
to the new, you too.
Know what I'm gonna do?
I'm going to make the
millennium that's next my best.
I'm going to make M2 the bomb.
Might even make me an
M2 resolution.
Start me an M2 revolution.
December 28th, Y2K in a year,
makes Officer Garland
a Capricorn over there.
Let's see other signs we
got in the house tonight.
Say, what's your sign?
Say, what's your sign
Do the Pisces run this
mother for ya
Hell yeah
Do my Aries run this
mother for ya
Hell yeah
Do my Libras run this
mother for ya
Hell yeah
Do my Taurus run this
mother for ya?
Hell yeah
December 28th, Y2K in a year,
makes Officer Garland
a Capricorn over there.
Once inside the vehicle,
I heard a (speech blurs),
which I believed to
be a gun blast.
I immediately fell
backwards onto the pavement
injuring my legs and wrists.
I saw the occupant rise
forward in her seat.
While thinking that I had
been shot and believing
that the occupant was
attempting to shoot me again,
I begin firing into the driver's
side door of the vehicle.
If Roni couldn't hear me,
I must be asleep, right?
I begin firing into the
driver's side door of the vehicle.
If I'm sleeping, I'm dreaming,
so it must be deep, right?
I begin firing into
the driver's side door.
If I'm deep asleep, the police
will just wake me up, right?
I begin firing
into the driver.
Help me find a spare,
even help jack me up, right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
Right?
I begin firing.
(gunshots fire)
Ever have one of those dreams,
where nothing comes out
when you try to scream?
(beatboxing)
Worst come to worst,
my people, my
One, one
Worst come to
worst my people
The entrance to gunshot
number one (beatboxing).
The entrance to
gunshot number one
is located on the
right upper arm.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the
projectile is through
the skin and soft tissue
of the right upper arm,
perforating and fracturing
the right humerus.
This is a non-fatal, however
very serious gunshot wound
to the right upper arm,
fracturing the humerus, humerus.
Did he just say humorous?
I think he said humorous.
Humerus, humerus
That's funny.
What's not so funny is
the fact that me, Kai,
and Roni been working
on our routine.
You know, for when we
hit the scene.
(club music plays)
Yeah, that's right,
we them girls.
You know the ones, get
you on the dance floor,
thinking you going to
have some fun,
thinking you going to get
your grind on,
get your freak on,
maybe even get you some.
But as soon as we get
you on the floor,
you realize you gets none.
We bust out the routine
we came here to do.
And we ain't being mean.
It's just how we do what we do.
So you end up standing there
bobbing your head, wondering
if you going to get some attention,
create a little tension.
So when we see it in your
face, give you a taste.
Know what I mean?
But what you don't
realize is that
it's all built into the routine.
(crowd cheers)
(club music plays)
Like I said, we ain't mean.
That's just how we play.
We're Roni.
Kai.
Myeisha.
[All] We Three The Hard Way.
So, anyway.
We working on a new routine.
Old one's getting tired, about
time for it to be retired.
So...
See the dilemma?
This is where we're
supposed to hit this.
It's cool and all, me, myself,
personally,
I think we should be doing
more of Aaliyah's moves.
Girl is bad and so smooth.
She's got that thing, you know?
She should be doing some more
movies or something, you know?
I bet you, she's really
going to blow up
in a couple years or so.
But I get the feeling,
she might want
to give the slip to R. Kelly.
I mean maybe it's just
me, but he gives me the--
Willies.
Anyway, check out what we
got so far in our routine.
Then you'll see why a fractured
humerus isn't just a funny bone.
(beatboxing)
One, two, two, two, two, two,
two
(beatboxing)
The entrance to gunshot number--
When they faces can
see me they nod in-
(beatboxing)
The entrance to gunshot
number two is located
on the left
posterior upper neck.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the left
upper neck, coursing through
the mandible, and exiting
the right side of the jaw.
The mandible is
extensively fractured
and there is some
fragmentation of the teeth.
The exit for gunshot number two
is located on the right
side of the jaw.
This is a very serious, however
not rapidly fatal gunshot
wound fracturing the jaw.
(lights stir)
(dramatic music)
I heard that dreams
about losing
your teeth symbolize a loss
of childhood innocence.
These dreams often occur
at times of transition
from one life stage to the
next and can be a message
that an important
milestone is occurring
and urging you to face
the inevitable.
You know what I'm going to miss?
(bell dings)
Gram's Mission Barbecue
downtown on Main Street.
Man, Robert be putting his
foot in his Q, both feet.
Oh, don't worry, that's
a good thing.
It's the same as saying--
Mmm-mmm, that Q is slammin.
Beef tips, coleslaw,
mac & cheese, chicken,
that's what I'm
gonna be missing.
Pork ribs, potato salad,
barbecue beans, greens, yams,
peach cobbler, I got something
that needs to be said though.
So, what's the deal with
barbecue folks and their bread?
Y'all heard what I said,
the bread.
The bread, if you could
call it that,
it's the same no matter
where you at.
You could be at Gram's,
Bobby Ray's in San Berdoo,
Louisiana Fish in Moval
or M&M's in LA,
your meal's gonna come
out the same way.
Green's gonna be hooked,
mac & cheese, please.
Baked beans gonna to
be lip smacking
and the Q's gonna to
be slamming.
But sitting on top of your
order, off to the side,
I guarantee there's going to
be some paper thin, no flavor,
it ain't even Roman
Meal white bread.
(imitates disappointing buzzer)
You heard what I said,
white bread.
I'm telling you, it's
going to be white.
White bread, but if you
accidentally luck out
and get you some wheat
bread, don't be looking
for no wheat grain, wheat
smell, wheatgerm, wheat taste.
Ain't nothing like that gonna
to be found in this bread.
This wheat bread is
gonna to be wheat
only because that's
what the bag says.
Wheat bread.
What's really sad is that
since the rest of the meal's
so good, we forget about
the bread, white or wheat.
And when it's time to sop
up that last bit of Q sauce
you got sitting in the
corner of that
take-out styrofoam container
that you just can't reach
with your plastic fork,
that paper thin, flavorless,
you wish it was Roman
Meal bread gets it done.
That's what I'm
gonna be missing,
barbecue, fake wheat
bread and kissing.
(bell dings)
Listen, kissing, okay,
Wesley in "Sugar Hill"
or Denzel in "Crimson Tide"?
Okay, Denzel in "Hurricane"
or Wesley in "White
Men Can't Jump"?
Okay, Wesley in "Murder At 1600"
or Denzel in "Devil In
A Blue Dress"?
Okay, Denzel in "Glory"
or Wesley in "Blade"?
Okay, Wesley in "Jungle Fever"
or Denzel in "Malcolm X"?
Okay, Denzel in "Mo'
Better Blues"
or Wesley in "Mo' Better Blues"?
(Myeisha coughs)
I heard that dreams
about losing your teeth
symbolize a loss of
childhood innocence.
These dreams often
occur at times
of transition from one
life stage to the next.
(beatboxing)
One, two, three, three,
three
(beatboxing)
(gunshot fires)
The entrance to gunshot
number (beatboxing).
Yeah show 'em where it's at
(beatboxing)
Number three is located on
the right posterior shoulder
on the right upper back.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the
right posterior shoulder
exiting the wall of the back.
This is a non-fatal gunshot
wound to the right upper back.
I was always a tomboy.
People used to say I must be
gay because I dress this way,
baggy jeans, sneakers,
my shirt hanging loose this way.
Always a tom boy,
and if you don't
like it, you can kiss
this this way.
Looked good playing the field,
and still has sex appeal.
(net swishes)
Played some basketball,
but softball was my game.
Got my pitch up to 65 my
last year at Riverside High.
Even got a little fame.
It's true.
Got my picture in "The Black
Voice" newspaper, page B2.
My best pitch, I called
it the Quick-an'-Split.
Had batters singing the blues.
Strike!
See ya!
I love the sound of my
pitch in the catcher's mitt
when it hit that sweet
spot it was like, like...
Sounded good, felt good,
and I look good too.
Okay, let me stop.
I did look good though.
Thinking about walking
onto a Cal State
or a UCR, RCC, Valley, Cal Poly.
I messed up and didn't get
my applications in on time.
Tom boy, shoot,
I could have been
a cheerleader if I wanted to,
home boy.
My name is Myeisha and
I'm the best
Come get with me,
forget the rest
My name is Myeisha, you
know my name,
Wanna get with me
You better step up your game
Her name is Myeisha
She is the best
Come get with her or
get the rest
Her name is Myeisha
You know her name
Wanna get with her you
better step up your game
(wind rustles)
One, two, three, four
(beatboxing)
With one comes the two
to the three and (beat)
The entrance to (beatboxing),
number four is located on
the left posterior
side of the head.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the scalp
exiting the right
posterior scalp.
The projectile does not
enter or fracture the cranium
and the course is only
through the scalp.
The exit on the right
posterior scalp
is a half inch irregular
stilet hole without abrasion.
This is a non-fatal
distant gunshot
wound perforating
the scalp only.
[Myeisha] Hold up.
Wait a minute.
(beatboxing)
Wait a minute
I know he did not just
say only through the scalp.
I know he did not just say
only, talking about my scalp.
He must not realize that
the only place
my hair grows is on that scalp.
You know what?
I'm not even going to
into the whole black women
and their hair
conversation right now,
not with a coroner anyhow.
All I'm going to say is
Sarah Breedlove,
AKA Madam C.J. Walker, AKA
first self-made
American woman millionaire,
built on black hair care.
You hear?
Hot iron burns on your
forehead, scars on your neck,
highlights, lowlights, frosting,
tinting,
sleeping sitting up so your
new style don't get wrecked,
kitchen sink perms,
combing through them naps,
baby hair pumping, getting
your dandruff scratched.
Now, I know some of my sisters,
y'all gone natural, and
I ain't hating.
All I'm saying is you
don't want to go
there unless you are
aware of the hair.
I want a girl with,
in her hair
Bamboo earrings, at least
Only through the scalpel
let me give you, Mr. Coroner,
some advice when addressing
a black woman's hair.
The only time you want
to let "only"
come out your mouth is if
you're saying--
If only I could get my flip
to flip as good as yours.
If only I could get
my micro braids
to hold as good as yours.
If only I could get my streaks
to blend as good as yours.
If only I could get my bob
to hold as good as yours.
Only through the scalp and
since I'm handing out advice,
let me give the men
a little slice.
You know me, I'm gonna be nice.
Now brothers should already
be aware of this fact,
but if you ain't a brother and
you like your coffee black,
here's a little insight to
help you with your mack.
Do not touch the hair.
Perm, relaxed, crimped, slicked,
braided, dreaded or fro,
please, just let the hair go.
Do not grab the hair.
Do not clutch the hair.
Do not caress the hair.
Do not stroke the hair.
Do not fondle with the hair.
Do not fiddle with the hair.
Do not twiddle with the hair.
Do not absentmindedly
twirl the hair,
or swirl the hair, or
curl the hair.
Do not pensively seize the hair.
Do not passionately
grip the hair.
Do not attempt to run your
fingers through the hair.
Do not kiss the hair.
Do not lick the hair.
Just...
Did I make myself clear?
Hands off the hair.
But, if you care to get
near the hair,
then be aware of when
hair's just been done.
When a sister's just come from
Ebony Crest, Shear Elegance,
or Miss Ellison, make it
very clear that you see
the hair, you feel the hair,
and if allowed, you would
stroke the hair.
You would caress the hair.
You would grab the hair.
You would clutch the hair.
You would fondle, fiddle,
twiddle and twirl the hair.
I know it's not fair,
but hey, hair's not fair.
So if you really care,
do not touch the hair.
And oh yeah, when you
see a sister
going like this,
don't be phased.
Ain't nothing wrong with her.
She's only scratching her
scalp through her braids.
I know he did not say
only through
the scalp, only
through the scalp.
One two three four five
I'm gonna rock, I'm
gonna rock it
(beatboxing)
Put my hand up on your
hip when I dip, dip, dip
The entrance to (beatboxing).
Cotton candy sweet is
tootsie roll, tootsie, beat
Number five is located on
the central lower back.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the
left lower back
exiting the left
anterior lateral hip.
This is a non-fatal gunshot
wound to the left lower back.
I was in a video, nah,
for real, I was in a video.
I was in this video, it
was even on TV.
Okay, so it was like
on channel 23,
exclusively local to the IE.
Okay, see, this MC from Moval,
got signed by Moval Records,
right?
Local label.
Think his name was MC D-Low,
and they about to release
his first single, and they
about to shoot the video.
So, me, Kai, and Roni are
at Club Metro,
letting ourselves go.
This kid sees us, says
he's shooting a video.
Sees us doing our old routine,
not even the new one
you just seen.
Says he's looking for some
females to represent for the IE,
so naturally, you know, Roni,
Kai and me.
You girls heard of
Moval Records?
[All] No.
Well, we shooting
a music video.
[All] So?
(bell rings)
But we still show up
for the shoot.
Shoot, we just down to
get our groove on.
They were for real.
Had a director, a crew
and everything,
so on action, we did our thing.
"Grab That Girl By The Bow",
take one.
(MC D-Low beatboxes)
Pretty thighs
Stomach right
Thick old thighs
And her booty fat
Pop, do the pop,
don't stop, do the pop
Don't stop, do the pop,
don't stop, do the pop
Girl, drop it girl,
drop it girl, booty fat
Pop, don't stop, do the pop
Okay, so you probably
won't recognize us.
You know, I thought they
were serious, but when I saw
the video, all they showed
was the angle on the gluteus.
I mean, I like my posterior,
but I like my face too.
I think they showed it
once on BET Uncut,
but in the final cut,
you don't see me,
at least not from any angle
where you could see me.
All they showed was what
Roni, Kai, and me call
the hoe shot, all bottom,
no top.
Okay, this is how Moval
Records shot me.
Booty, booty, it's the booty,
booty
It's the booty, booty,
it's that booty fat
Pop, don't stop, pop,
don't stop
Pop, don't stop,
pop don't stop
Booty, booty it's the booty,
booty
It's the booty, booty,
it's that booty, booty fat
Pop, pop, pop
(screeching hum)
One, two, three, four, fix,
six
(beatboxing)
(dramatic music)
The entrance to
gunshot number six
is located on the left thigh.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the
left thigh, perforating,
fracturing and fragmenting
the left femur.
This is a non-fatal, however
serious gunshot wound
to the left thigh
fracturing the left femur.
My cousin died once...
Well, almost died.
No, not Roni, my cousin Freddie.
Well, he kind of died.
Okay, so if you know me,
you know
I've got sports skills, but
when it came to Freddie,
man, it was more like
sports kills.
He's uncoordinated like a mug.
I mean like a mug.
So when I heard he broke his
leg, I was like, "Yeah, and?
Well of course he broke his leg.
That's Fred, that's
what he does."
Okay, so you know how you've got
that one cousin who's
always getting hurt?
You could be playing
tag, hide and go seek,
jump rope, or digging
in the dirt...
You know you played
digging in the dirt.
No matter what
though I guarantee
Freddie was gonna get hurt.
Dropped a brick on his head,
that was funny and
that one bled.
Broke his left arm twice.
Broke his right arm once.
Ankles always sprained,
usually the left,
but the right one too.
Always has something
in his eyes,
even though he wore glasses.
Over 100 stitches, no lie.
Had to sleep on the bottom bunk
because he'd fall out the bed.
That was Fred.
So then he gets hurt and
starts crying.
We're like, "Shh, come on man.
You act like you dying
or something."
Thing was if one of our aunties
heard Freddie's boo-hoo,
our game was through.
Roni used to get so mad.
She didn't know what to do.
Damn Fred, shut up, you
act like a little girl.
As long as there was
no blood flow though,
Freddie was usually good to go.
So they take him to Kaiser,
oh wait,
let me break down the break.
This fool goes out to
Devil's Canyon
out by Cal State rolling
on a moped, a moped.
That's a motorcycle
that you pedal.
So full speed ahead goes
Fred, crashes the moped.
They take him to Kaiser Fontana.
Soon as I find out, I'm
on my way to the hospital
to have me some fun,
get my bag on.
So when I get there, he's like--
They just want to
keep me overnight.
Then I'm gonna go home.
Next day, I'm learning
about fat embolism syndrome
and Freddie's not at home.
He's in a coma.
It was induced.
That's how it was introduced.
Doctors explain it this way.
Fat embolism syndrome
is a symptom complex
of acute respiratory failure
after long bone fractures.
It's thought to be caused
by deposition of embolic fat
within the pulmonary
capillaries resulting
in a capillary leak
within the lung.
The source of the embolic
fat appears to be marrow fat.
Freddie broke his femur.
Fat was headed to his lungs,
got stuck in his throat,
so he's put into an
induced coma for two weeks
'cause he was too weak to
breathe or speak, two weeks.
Two weeks to even eat like he
was dead in that hospital bed.
They said it was good for
him to hear familiar voices,
so I showed up just
about every day.
[Aunt Dee] Please Lord,
be present in this room.
Let your spirit rain
your healing Lord.
Aunt Dee moved in to Kaiser
Permanente permanently.
My Aunt Dee, Freddie's mom, had
always been the
auntie with faith.
You know, the religious aunt
who made sure you prayed
in your car for a long
ride or dropped
a, "Stay on the Lord's
side," if she thought
you were starting to back slide.
Aunt Dee moved into
the ICU, I kid you not,
praying my cousin back
to this side saying--
This coma ain't
nothing but a comma
in my son's life story.
[Myeisha] After 16 days,
Freddie woke up in a haze.
First thing he says to me is--
Cuz, I went to New York City.
And I'm thinking,
(carnival music) not pretty.
Shame, fat emboli got his brain,
how sad.
And he's getting mad
'cause nobody
believing his New
York City dream.
He starts to scream
about the weather,
what he ate, where he went,
cash he spent.
He's talking about he was--
Uptown baby
We can still baby
Talking about he was in
Brooklyn, we're
Brooklyn, we're Brooklyn
Talking bout how was in
Staten Island
(beatboxing)
Talking bout how was in
South Bronx, South Bronx
Talking bout how he was in
(beatboxing)
I was like fool, you
were right here in--
Fontana baby, Fontana
baby, with your mama baby
With your mama baby,
mama baby
Freddie didn't think
that was too funny.
Anyway, who knows?
Maybe Freddie did go
to the city.
I sure hope Aunt Dee has some
of her prayer power
left over for me.
I ain't never been to New York.
(beatboxing)
One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight
(beatboxing)
The entrance to gunshot
number (beatboxing).
Number seven is located
on the right middle back.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the
projectile is through
the subcutaneous tissue
of the right middle back.
The bullet does not
enter the chest.
This is a non-fatal gunshot
wound to the right middle back.
(gunshot fires)
Roni, you sure
about this spot?
Yeah, girl, that's where I got
mine done and you
know mine's hot.
(buzzing)
(bell rings)
Yeah, I'm here for a tat.
My cousin says you got skills.
You got a problem with that?
My lower back, Nefertiti, queen,
black.
Here Roni, where's the
one you drew?
Yeah, my cousin got skills, huh?
(equipment whirs)
You told me 40 not 65, let's go.
What?
That's all I got, then let
me get 25, I'll pay you back.
You ain't got no job.
I know I ain't got no job.
You don't have to bust me
out in front of people.
Just do me this favor.
I'll get you back
just like I got
your back last month,
don't front.
All right, let's see
what you can do.
Hold up, wait, is it gonna hurt?
Do pigs like dirt?
That's funny, but
for real though?
Tiny pieces of fire tapping
your skin, but then numb.
That'll work.
All right.
Begin.
(sweeping dramatic music)
She was powerful, beautiful,
and smart, like me.
Her name means the
beautiful woman has come.
I'm here.
I'm putting her there
because only kings get
to see the queen,
know what I mean?
(Tattoo Artist laughs)
Trust, it'll be the last
time you see her.
(sweeping dramatic music)
I told Uncle Darnell I was
thinking of getting a tattoo.
He says--
A tattoo ain't
nothing but a scar.
Now you can get a scar if
you want from me for free.
The pain will be the same,
it just won't take as long.
Then he starts going
into one of his blackouts.
You would have never
made it as no slave.
It'll be 100 degrees, IE heat,
and if I forget and say, "Man,
it's hot."
You would have never
made it as no slave.
This ain't nothing,
but dry heat.
Now down South, they got
that humid heat,
plus the master wasn't
giving you much to eat.
[Myeisha] I get me
some new tennis shoes.
You would have never
made it as no slave.
They didn't even have shoes.
You'd just be stepping, stepping
with your bare feet on
the hard concrete.
Stepping, stepping with
your bare feet
On the hard concrete
He always try to throw in some
lame hip hop to prove
he was cool.
Even when I did something right,
like help him move our couch.
You would have never
made it as no slave.
Now why?
Don't you know that
once you show
them how hard you could work,
that's how hard you would work.
So, I dropped the couch.
(beatboxing)
Eight, eight, eight, eight
(beatboxing)
The entrance to (beatboxing).
Number eight is located
on the right lower back.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the
right lower back,
perforating and fracturing
the third lumbar vertebrae.
This is a non-fatal gunshot
wound to the right lower back.
[Nurse] Next.
They found my C in
junior high.
There was a screening one day
that seemed to be pretty benign.
They drew a line,
we stood in line.
They took a look at our spine.
A few days later came
a letter in the mail
saying I needed further testing.
After X-rays, the doctor
says he didn't
like the way my spine
was resting.
The diagnosis--
Scoliosis.
[Myeisha] A lower C curve,
not like Becca, who had an S.
Hers was an internal swerve.
Told I had to wear a plastic
brace for two years in my case.
This thing went all the way
from my chest down to my waist.
I'd have to be encased in
this brace to prevent improper
alignment since I didn't
embrace the exercises
the doctor gave me as
my assignment.
[Doctor]
This exercise aims to align
the spine and activate
underused muscles.
Stand next to an elevated
bench so that the edge
of the bench is near your hip.
The leg that is on the
same side as the thoracic
and cavity should be
pressed against the bench.
Lean to the side over the
bench and bring up your leg
to form a straight line
with your body.
The foot should point up.
Since I didn't
embrace the exercises
the doctor gave me as
my assignment, I have
to be encased in this brace
to prevent improper alignment.
Told I was going to
have to wear it
for two years straight,
eighth grade and ninth.
The first year wasn't
too bad, but the second,
we were going to have a fight.
Ninth grade, first year
of high school,
now you know that wasn't cool.
I wasn't about to show
up as no freshman looking
like no fresh fool, like
some kind of a geek,
like some kind of a freak,
all grotesque.
Whole year and a half where
I got my second base chest.
So I was like, "Forget it."
I figured I might as well just
take the chance, take the risk.
I mean worst thing that could
happen to me I guess will be
that I'd have some back pain
when I got real old, like 56.
Worst thing I guess,
back pain at 56.
(beatboxing)
One, two, three, four, fix,
six, seven, eight, nine
(beatboxing)
The entrance to (beatboxing).
Number nine is located on
the left breast.
The entrance wound is fourteen
inches down from the top
of the head and five inches
left of the anterior mid line.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the left
breast coursing through
the anterior chest wall and
exiting below the right breast.
The exit for gunshot number nine
is located below the
right breast.
This is a non-fatal
gunshot wound
perforating the left breast.
If you know me, you
know I wasn't one
of the early bloomers
like my cousin.
Until I was 16, it
seemed like "A" was gonna
be the only letter that
my bra ever saw.
Clever Ricky and his friends
got to calling me Manchester.
Want to know what I called
their sorry behinds?
Never mind.
But then I turned 16, and bam.
I mean boom, I mean pow, I
mean wow, I gots mine, see?
Second base all in your face.
Now it wasn't like I was
easy or fast or loose,
but that don't mean I didn't
let loose when I let loose.
I guess if I wanted to, I could
tell you that I'm a virgin,
but that wouldn't be the
honest version.
Waited til I was 16 though.
(beatboxing)
I didn't even know if we were
doing it right, no lights.
Dontrey kept talking about
how the time was right,
how he was the last
one of his boys
in line, how that wasn't right.
Thing was, Dontrey was fine.
(beatboxing)
And when we did it, we
did it all night long.
Until the break of dawn
Well, at least that's
Dontrey's version.
Let's just say that dawn
came with a quickness.
Can I get a witness?
(rooster crows)
But it was still all right.
It was still all right.
Mouth was slightly open,
eyes were closed,
breathing shallow, lips
quivering, body shaking.
(beatboxing)
Dontrey liked my lips and
he dug my hips,
but yes, I must confess,
he loved my chest.
Good guess, he was a breast man.
And at 16, like I said,
I had the best man.
Forget the rest, come caress,
why settle for less, man?
Just stop right there,
do not touch the hair.
At 16, stopped wondering,
found out for sure.
At 17, stopped accepting
and started wanting more.
At 18, declared myself
a woman, grown, mature.
At 19 awaiting 20,
knocking on heaven's door.
Awaiting 20, a weight
in 20, I wait for 20.
At 16, stopped wondering,
found out for sure.
At 17, stopped accepting
and started wanting more.
At 18, declared myself
a woman, grown, mature.
At 19 awaiting 20,
knocking on heaven's door.
(gunshot fires)
At 20, a teenager no more,
grown.
I'm going to learn to moan.
At 20, a teenager no more,
grown.
I'm going to learn to moan.
But sounds like 20's
out of reach
and I'm running out of time.
Half a dozen on one
hand, six on the other,
figure of speech and I'm
running out of rhyme.
Seems like a crime to waste
all that I bring to the table.
So why don't we agree to
make this tale a fable?
Let's agree to make
this tale a fable.
Seems like a crime to waste
all that I bring to the table.
So why don't we agree to
make this tale a fable?
Once upon a time in the
Inland Empire
There lived a young girl
who wanted to spit fire
There lived a young
girl, wanted to spit fire
There lived a young girl
(ominous music)
Why don't we agree to
make this tale a fable?
Then if you're able, if you
can, if it's not too much
to ask, when they finish
singing you happy 19th birthday,
before you make your wish
and blow, put a candle
on the cake for me to
add to the glow.
Close your eyes and wish
that what you're seeing
ain't nothing but a dream
fable, and I'm gonna
wake up, 19 at your
birthday table.
Close your eyes and wish
that what you're
seeing ain't nothing but
a dream fable.
And I'm going to wake up,
19 at your birthday table.
Put another candle on to
add to the glow.
Now, make your wish, and blow.
(blows)
Jackson's mouth was
slightly open.
Her eyes were closed.
Her breathing appeared shallow.
Her lips were quivering,
her body was shaking,
and there was a white
substance that was accumulating
around the sides of her mouth.
At 19, knocking on
heaven's door.
[Beatboxer] 10.
(beatboxing)
The entrance to
gunshot number 10
is located on the left
upper forehead.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the skin
and soft tissue of the
left upper forehead,
entering into the cranium
through the left frontal bone,
through the left and right
frontal lobes of the brain,
through the right orbit,
perforating and rupturing
the right ocular globe, and
exiting the right orbit.
The direction of the
projectile is back to front,
left to right, and
downward 45 degrees.
This is a fatal distant
gunshot wound to the head.
11
(beatboxing)
The entrance to gunshot
number 11 is located
above and behind the left ear
on the left side of the head.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The course of the projectile
is through the scalp,
entering into the cranium
through the left occipital bone,
perforating the left cerebellum,
perforating the pons of
the brain stem,
and penetrating into the
anterior base of the cranium.
This is a fatal distant
gunshot wound to the head.
12
(beatboxing)
The entrance to
gunshot number 12
is located on the right
central back.
This is a typical distant
gunshot wound entrance.
The direction of the
projectile is back to front,
left to right, and slightly
upward three degrees.
This is a fatal distant
gunshot wound
to the chest, perforating
the right lung.
One to the chest,
one to the arm
One to the leg, one
to the neck
One to the dome, one to
the dome, one to the dome
One to the back, one to
the back, one to the back.
One to the back, one
to the back
I bet you ain't seen no
female MC who's been shot
as many times as me,
not since Supersonic had
a female MC from the West,
put it down with the best.
You know?
One of the Js, some JJ
Fad lives in the IE.
For a minute, I thought
about rapping in Pig Latin.
That ain't happening.
This is the key right here.
It's been a year since
they shot Biggie.
Since Tupac was killed,
it's been two.
It only makes sense that this
should happen to me right now.
I got to live, I'll be the best
female MC ever, too clever.
Before me, MCs only been shot
a couple of times and lived.
I got a dozen, and I'm
still spitting rhymes.
You can't stop me, this
is my time to shine.
One to the chest,
one to the arm
One to the leg, one
to the neck
One to the dome, one
to the dome, dome,
Back, back, back, one
to the back.
(beatboxing)
The average person can hold
their breath 60 to 90 seconds.
The lungs take in
oxygen-enriched air first,
gets rid of carbon
dioxide second.
The average person
breathes in and out
15 to 25 times every 60 seconds.
Breath enters into the
nose and mouth first,
pharynx and larynx second.
There are two phases
to the process
of breathing, inspiration,
expiration.
Creativity, release,
insight, conclusion,
inventiveness, completion,
ingenuity, closure,
imagination, exhalation,
revelation, cessation,
stimulation, departure,
arousal, eradication,
muse, expel, motivation,
termination, vision,
discontinuance, illumination,
extinction, elevation,
execution, enthusiasm,
closure, imagination,
exhalation, enthusiasm,
enlightenment, collapse,
excitement, finale,
fervor, finish, elation,
termination, vivification,
passing, uplift,
exit, rapture, decease,
alpha, omega, beginning.
(melancholic music as
film reel rolls)
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Bless Mommy, Daddy, Kai,
Freddie,
Uncle D, and my cousin Roni.
This is Myeisha.
You know me.
(shallow breathing)
(screeching)
(Sings "Oh Holy Night" in
the background)
Right lung weighs 270 grams.
Left lung weighs 325 grams.
The liver weighs 970 grams.
Spleen weighs 100 grams.
Kidneys weigh 100 grams each.
Brain weighs 1025 grams.
Heart weighs 275 grams and
is smooth and glistening.
Heart weighs 275 grams and
is smooth and glistening.
Heart weighs 275 grams and
is smooth and glistening.
Heart weighs 275 grams and
is smooth and glistening.
Heart weighs 275 grams and
is smooth and glistening.
(tape rewinding)
(screaming)
(window tapping)
Ever have one of those dreams,
where nothing comes out
when you try to scream?
(light flicks off)
(otherworldly music)
(radio plays faintly)
(glass shatters)
(gunshots fire)
(car horn honks)
Oh my God!
Oh my god!
(alarm blares and horn honks)
(dramatic whistling)
(percussive humming)
(rhythmic beatboxing)