The wheels of my skateboard click-clack down the gum-covered sidewalk, dodging the thick cracks and the occasional obstacle. My mind begins to rewind to the events of my day as I kick-push my board along. A simple trip to the store can become an everyday adventure for me on my skateboard. I love every blue, knee-bruising minute of it. People may call me a demonic delinquent because I skate next to old people while they scream, "You rotten kid!" But it's an art form that has kept me away from trouble and allowed me to be a kid in a city that isn't very kid-friendly.
This journey started when I was only 9 years old. Already, I could vividly imagine the "hobbies" of most of my neighbors. They would post on a corner next to the flickering light of a lamppost selling drugs for hours on end. The pungent yet powerful aroma of marijuana filled the air as I played outside with my older brother's $25 Walmart skateboard. I knew it was a life of crime that my neighbors were following, but I thought it was normal. Still, when I looked down at my board, I knew I had something much more fun going for me.
I went from riding the board on my butt to busting ollies over stairs all while realizing I was resisting following in my neighbor's footsteps. Every day this hobby of mine becomes a motivation for me no matter how painful it can be. Every day on my skateboard I kick-push my way through the day, dodging the obstacles in my way. And just like life itself, I get up from the falls, and continue to my destination.
With a perspective, I'm David Ortiz-Alejandre.