I was a 25-year-old documentary filmmaker from New York working on a show for MTV. He was a 21-year-old dancer in East Oakland trying to move on with his life after the murder of his little brother. I spent a year embedded in his life, and got a front row seat to an American epidemic.
Thirty years of gun-slinging mass murder American style had almost pushed me into mute hopelessness. But feelings of despair offer no answers, so I went looking for antidotes. I had found two, before the horrific gates of gun violence hell touched my own family.