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I was given light, as was light itself.
Born from a spanish bloodline
Son to Rita Labour and Hector Nunez Sr.

My inception began in the dominican republic
The capital city, “Santo Domingo!” ( sanctified sunday in spanish)

Birthed nearby “Ensanche’ La Fe’. ” (Widening the Faith ;-)
At a young age my family migrated into the United States of America.
Our voyage began in Manhattan’s Washington Heights, New York. My family then moved north, into the ghettos of lawrence Massachusetts.

It was here that oldskool was born.
Oldskool is a host of ideas, rather a person.
The Idea, that we who know can teach those who don’t.
The idea, that education is a fundamental value
The idea, that old things don’t have to die.
That’s OldSkooL.

Before I was OldSkooL, I spent some time searching myself.
Looking for my purpose in life.
my first nickname was BEBO
(Bebo is a common pet name used by dominican mothers, when referring to their youngest son.)
I always thought I’d be a famous poet or a beat boxer like Rahzel.
I also loved to rap, but where I’m from, everyones a rapper; so it aint a thing.

One day I was walking down the street with my cousin Reapa.
We both had doo-rags and fitteds on.
Wife Beaters, and saggy pants.

We began walking by a car detailing establishment on the south side of Lawrence and a woman ran outside, flagged us down.
She introduced herself as Poetica, told me I looked like someone destined to grab the mic.
She handed me a flyer and explained that she hosted an open mic poetry slam (I was in my early teens at the time.)
That week, I grabbed a few friends and went to Poetica’s poetry slam.

My close friends used to call me “da dork of lawrence.” I fixed computers during the day and robbed people by night…

My stage name at the poetry slam was “Bebo.”
I wrote all of my material on the spot. Something about being on stage with fresh new content, it helped with my delivery.
I became a regular at the poetry slam.
My friends were all gang members.
I don’t condone gang violence, I’ve been strictly neutral my entire life.

There is one day in particular that I will never forget.
My friends and I were catering a gun sale that went sour. Out of desperation, I ran into the poetry slam session that night.
I had blood all over me, My buddy kasper forgot to tuck his gun away.

Poetica, (whose real name is michelle) stopped hosting the poetry slam, called a recess and pulled me aside.

She said, “Hector, I've been watching you... I don't want to see you fall victim to the streets.”
she brought her index finger deep into my chest and pushed into my heart, looking me in the eye; she said “The streets don’t got nothing for you baby, you're a star.”

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