Biades

One of my advanced writing students has become a close friend. His name is Biades {pronounced “Bidez”} and he’s a 25 year-old from LA. He’s lived a tough life. Born in LA, he grew up in some of the toughest Hispanic neighborhoods in Southern California. A number of his relatives have done or are doing, prison sentences. His mom kept him clear of MS-13, the notorious Salvadorian gang, but not the police.



He did jail time in the LA county jail. He moved east, settling in Northern Virginia, met a girl and had a daughter who is now five. Three years ago he was busted for transporting ten pounds of weed. He has one more year to go and is enrolled in the college/IT program.


I can tell a lot about the guys in here by how they behave with their kids. Biades’ little girl comes down here monthly to see him. He calls her twice a week. I’ve seen him interact with her, seen him light up when he shows me pictures. He loves his daughter and even though miles and a fence separate them, he’s still “her daddy”. He still is actively involved in her life.


He writes amazing poetry, mostly dark poems about street violence. But then, he writes a poem for his daughter on Christmas and on Halloween, sweet lyrical poems about pumpkins or snowflakes.


He and I were talking the other day. He’s committed to not coming back. “I don’t want to ever miss another Christmas with her.”


Guys like Biades deserve another chance. He’s doing all he can to overcome his mistakes. His little girl deserves her daddy back.