Getting by on the sly in LA
by Ray Olvera
Jaded, cynical, bitter, ready for a change, I met Randy at a job I was completely unprepared to fulfill.
I’d graduated from a network administration business program and passed the six Microsoft exams necessary to call myself an MCSE (Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer). Unable to land a job after countless interviews in the tech industry, I began to tell employers that I could handle and excel at just about any position.
I subsequently realized that I couldn’t just step in and do anything I wasn’t trained for. So, I adopted a mantra, “Just tell them what they want to hear because they’d have to train me for the position anyway.” Needless to say I embarrassed myself once hired. Months after going through my NWTA, I finally able to come clean to my employer and friend who had given me the opportunity to work.
With 18 years of sobriety behind me, I come from the Watts, Compton, and Huntington Park areas in Southside Los Angeles. My life prior to sobriety was to get over by hook or mostly by crook. Just getting by was a struggle. You were weak if you didn’t “get yours,” by whatever means necessary.
How could I explain this to the suburban white guys I met? They represented another group I would absolutely not fit in. As a pocho (born in the U.S. from Mexican heritage with minimal Spanish speaking) I couldn’t really call myself Mexican, for “real” Mexicans are offended by this affiliation. There’s a huge bizarre dynamic here that I won’t go into. I look Mexican, so I’m not considered “white.”
I was a true professional at not fitting in anywhere — except with hardcore alcoholic drug users. I prided myself based on my terminal uniqueness. I gave myself major “ups” on being smart enough to “get by” in college by challenging courses, getting tutored heavily, cram like crazy, and then pass the final or equivalency test.
I’ve had to stay “street” because that’s what I identified with. I got off on the sleazy, tragic, urban drama that comes with the lifestyle. I hung out in the artist loft district off Alameda by the L.A. Train Station, haunted Al’s Bar, managed Gorky’s restaurant, did sound for underground clubs in Hollywood and got trashed with the L.A. culturati.
Crack was more important then paying for law school. After free-basing my mom’s money, which she had worked so hard to earn, after committing the ultimate betrayal, I had what addicts call a “moment of clarity.” I hit bottom and saw I was spiritually bankrupt. I had lied to anyone and everyone who had ever loved or cared for me.
Four years ago my experience with MKP in Los Angeles began with the this man named Randy. He had this relaxed confidence, this inner sadness that has been transformed by peace, acceptance, experience, and hope. He exhibited this “I really care” energy that wasn’t maudlin, and he wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable.I had always wanted to “be” this type of man, which conflicted with my story of who I am and where I come from.
I was never taught about “sacred masculinity.” Without ever having this, I felt deprived and sad. As a result of going through the NWTA and participating in an integration group (i-group), I can say my greatest aspirations are being achieved. I am a loving, caring, husband and father. I am learning that we are not only connected by what makes us different, but by trust, strength, and the generosity we give to one another. Being the only “Hispanic” in my i- group, this last piece was huge.
 |
Ray Olvera grew up in Southside LA. After working in legal research, he now works as a certified network systems administrator. |
– is a deeply personal issue that everyone decides for himself. Sometimes the price is high, sometimes low. But this is not very important for life. Life is an interesting thing. And the price on Viagra – too.
