It's early November, 1994, about a month after those white boys yelled 187 at me from their truck.

It's lunchtime, and I'm at Anaheim High hanging out in the quad with my friends.

It's me, my best friend Art, and some other Mexican nerds, eating chimichangas and just kicking it under big trees in our usual spot.

I remember this moment when Art and I stopped talking.

Something's about to happen.

Like, the whole campus is just looking at each other, waiting for something.

All of a sudden, some guy I know out of nowhere, leaves a quad with his backpack and jumps

the chain link fence.

Almost everyone else heads in the direction of the fence,

but I was too scared to join them.

I'm like, no, there's going to be police, and I'm a nerd,

so I don't want to ditch school, I might get in trouble,

my parents might get upset at me,

but my classmates weren't scared.

They jumped the fence

too.

Guys do it like whatever. Girls help each other put their feet through the holes. I think actually

at some point, someone just pulls the fence down and almost all of Anaheim High's student

body escapes the campus during lunchtime.

Back at home, I see my schools walk out on TV.

It's a protest against Proposition 187.

Over 10,000 students from middle schools and

...