Alberto but known as Chucky Growing up I remember always hearing his name chucky ! His presence of the times of him walking through our home and saying what’s up and the relation he had with my sister America , the leader for Latin Kings and salvadoreño in our Dallas TX area, there was never moment when they would be present in our home since my sister Yadira married one of the members... when chucky got sent to prison the letters and conversation of him became normal as he became part of our family...but long story short my sister America and him had a really strong bond with my sister - my sister battling lupus and him in prison kept that energy alive, i always like bringing up these conversations because I like to time travel and connect memory which inspires me 💗 - crazy story the last letter he sent my sister before she passed away of him not knowing was a letter covered in drawn angels when he finally received the news he told my sister Yadira over the phone that he had a dream of an angel so he woke up and drew those angels on my sisters letter and little knowing my sister had passed away... years later when he was deported he was brutally shot in El Salvador , his name scripted on my sisters grave and this piece of memory is how much things of our lives inspire me to write, tell stories and connect them into who I am and I carry myself even when growing up in the hood and what that entails esp as a queer brown boy getting inspired by our stories in our home and experiences that I get to bring into my upcoming work and memory