Gangster. How do you define this word? Thief, hoodlum, even lowlife are typical terms associated within this genre of people. There is no doubt that today's gangs have become more destructive and aggressive than ever before. Definitely not the ideal lifestyle for a man like me having been brought up in a home where gangs were described as "wanderers" on the road to nowhere. However, have you ever wondered what is was like on the other side of that line? The line that separates good citizen from gang banger? Or perhaps you've pondered how gang members view the world, or what causes them to choose that path. I know I have, which brings me to this essay. I recently had an opportunity to interview a man who considers himself to be the "Last Mohican" of traditional gangsters. With this rare opportunity, I was able to pick his brain on subject such as violence, shootings, rival gangs, as well as other topics related to gang activities. This is the story of Richard Colemereo.

Richard was born on January 16, 1977 in the small town of Selma, California (my home town). There he led a normal life throughout his childhood despite living in the slums. He was known as an active child involved in sports, skateboarding and he was even quite the poet. As he reached his adolescent years, he began to embrace a new way of life. It all began on Richard's fifteenth birthday. His parents had just presented him with the ultimate gift, a boom box. He recalls being "so excited" for hardly anyone living in the ghetto had such a luxury. However, the real gift came when his older brother Ray, who was released from prison that same day, came bursting in, surprising Rich with a copy of EZ-E's latest cassette tape. After a tearful reunion, Ray handed Richard the tape. "Who the hell is EZ-E?" Rich asked as he received the gift.

Ray gave him a puzzled look before responding, "You're a poet. Don't you know? Why, he's the founding father of gangster rap." From then on, the world as Richard knew it changed forever. For the language of the ghetto was all he knew, and as a poet, gangster rap changed his way of thinking and writing. It was a new way of expressing who he was and how he felt. HE had become someone who learned at a young age that life as a struggle and he head to fight and defend what was his, even if the odds were against him. From that moment on, he was a gangster.

I remember the look on Richard's face when I asked him, "So, music is what made you change your lifestyle?" The gleam in his streetwizened eyes told me there was much more to the story than that.

He turned and said, "When my brother came back from prison, he came back someone else. He had more tattoos than I had ever seen anyone have. Those tattoos told a story. A story of a Northern Warrior."

The tale went as follows: Long ago a Mexican man, who had been a grate fighter, turned away from that way of life to raise a family and to lead a different path. He had many enemies though, and eventually his past caught up with him. Every thing was taken from him by force: wife, children, personal possessions, everything. Then on one particular day, a dozen men came to his hideaway with intentions to kill him. As he came out of his temporary home, he came out prepared to die, but a glorious death it would be, for he would die fighting. Armed with only a knife in hand, he charged his aggressors head on. It was not long before he was overtaken and in the midst of being beaten to death, his neighbors came to his aid (for they knew of his losses) killing all the men except for one. As the warrior raised himself up, he embraced his new-found friends and said, "Alas, one has escaped and by defending me, they are now your enemies. Now they will come for you as well." The men fell silent as they visualized their impending doom.

Then one of the men broke the silence by proclaiming, "Not if we stand together, for together we are many and they are few." Hence, the Mexican Mafia was formed. Their sons later called them Northanoes.

Hearing this tale had inspired him to become a great leader. Not your typical role model such as mayors, mentors, pastors, but and underground hero. He and his neighbors had know years of harassment by the Local 3, gang bangers from the South. This gang would beat, steal and kill innocent bystanders within their hood never to be found. These people were illegals who would disappear when the law would come. Remembering the Warrior, Richard, along with some of his neighbors, rallied a group of their closest acquaintances in opposition to this menace. They formed a gang and they too called themselves Northanoes. The creed of this gang was to defend your barrio from outsiders who sought to harm your family and property. Organization and order was the key to their brotherhood. Like any other organization, members would take and follow through with orders, abiding by their leader as well as their set of laws: The Northerners Bible. Their laws required them to never lift a weapon other than your own two fists, unless times called for it. I was surprised to hear this because I have always been under the impression that all gangs used weapons to harm and kill each other. "Not in those days," Richard replied when I stated my opinion. Rich's gang lived under the metaphor: "Eye for an Eye." In other words, you jump one of them, they jump you; you kill one of them, and thy kill one of you. You get the picture.

Rich also stressed that today's gang bangers are young "punks" who are afraid to take an "ass whipping" and are quick to pick up a gun out of fear. He further stated, "They have become studio gangsters due to lack of leadership and from over-exposure to all that crap they see on TV. There's no longer any call for organization or respect for life." Hearing him use the word "respect" opened the door to a new subject.

"Respect," I started out. "How does respect apply to the title gangster? Don't you think the good person on the opposite side of you views your life of work as disrespectful?"

A brief silence ensued before he responded that their version of respect was never meant to be earned from the "good" people but from other gang bangers. Back when the traditional fist fights would prove one's manliness by either being victorious or defeated, it always left you with your dignity. For if you lost, you proved you had the guts to stand your ground, and if you won, well, you won the respect of your opponent, thus letting him know he'd be better off minding his manners and watching his step the next time he was near your turf. In comparison to today's young gang bangers, they have begun to fall under pressure. Their whole crew of fellow "punks" tells them, "Come on, man. You want to show us you're down, take this gun and kill that guy. He's an enemy. Show us you're for our cause." Ninety percent of the time that young man is going to react as his peers demand, the result in yet another "gang-related" killing.

"This is not respect," Richard comments. "This is murder." Rich believes this si what gives gang banging its bad name. "It wasn't always like this," he sates for maybe the tenth time that night. "Gangs no longer form to defend their turf from outsiders seeking to harm their family and hood. They go out looking for trouble outside their territory." These actions defy Richard's rule of traditional gangsterism, and he believes it will continue to get worse and worse till the end of time.

There's no longer any leadership and they've become democratic in the sense that they do whatever they hell they want. Hence the word "punk." Disappointed is the perfect word used in describing Rich's face after having stated this. I watched as he stared into nothing.

I broke the silence by asking, "So what happened to your crew?" He answered by looking at me. Sometimes just a simple look can say much more than words can ever express. It was only in that moment that I came to understand the history of our ghetto.

Over the years, many of Richard's Northanoes had been either killed, or locked up for life, or fell into a variety of drug addictions. The golden age of Selma Barrio Northerners had long been over with. I didn't have to ask why they were no longer. The answer was simple: organization was the key to the machine that kept things running. Unfortunately for Richard, the "good" men on the opposite side of the line never quite see the world as traditional gangsters do. Eventually, the law caught up with him. Being the leader, he was in turn incarcerated, leaving his crew without guidance. With no one to lead them, they eventually fell to the ways of today's gang bangers. They had all become "punks." I no longer wondered why Richard considered himself the "Last Mohican" of traditional gangsters. He just simply is, and like the warrior, he too is always outnumbered wherever he goes, no matter what: always in search of a friend, always on the lookout for an enemy, for the downside of being a gangster is bittersweet. You are who you are when you take that solemn vow to always uphold your Barrio's creed and color. Today Northanoes have become a dying breed throughout California. The remaining members, that have not been locked up (yet), have become Bulldogs, a gang, which here in Fresno, we are all too familiar with.