I was raised by a single mom that lived in the government projects. She went to all the Women’s Liberation (Women’s Lib) and Feminists Movement meetings with her kids (me and my sister) in tow.
My older sister would constantly provoke and torment me for her pleasure. If I complained to my mom when she got home from work, she would tell me to not bother her. When I hit my sister back, I was beaten, badly.
By the time I was 14, (1978) I would not stand for that shit from my sister. One day she played with me the wrong way one too many times and I knocked her out cold with one punch. She had a fat lip and she showed it to all the project rats that I was an abusive brother.
For years after that day I would get the local thugs chase me whenever they saw me.
I never resorted to violence, that’s not my thing. It takes a whole lot to get me to that point. The only time I would attack anyone is if they were to attack me. Curse me, look at me, say what you may, the minute you touch me, I will be one of the people that will be arrested after I am done.