ABSTRACT
Prologue: Many Literacies, Many Cultural Styles I can’t look up to my brother. He is locked up, so [pause], how could I look up to him? Before, I admired him; he had like a lot of girls and stuff. I thought he was slick and badass’, playing around. Now he ain’t got no girls. You don’t see any of his ladies out here visiting him, or any of his boys visiting him. Nobody cares. You get locked up, so what—“Oh, well, that’s it.” Now that I look at him, I see him as another one that didn’t get away, just like that. He ain’t bad no more, he just ended like that. —Maria, student at “West” High
