I know this may sound strange coming from me but the other day at work I came across what appeared to be a biography of an inmate who chose the life of the streets but reading this tome was heartbreaking. As hard as it was to read(the lack of an education is quite evident. Linda## would blow a gasket reading it), it tells a story of a kid who's street life began at an age when most of us were watching cartoons and playing with our toys. The way he describes it, he started making his bones with street gangs starting at age 7 and it all began when his mother died. He admits it was at this point he started hating the world. He was, like a lot of blacks, raised by his grandmother and even though he knew his father he had little contact with him. His story which is more than likely a lot like the lives of most who end up in this life, gets to the root of the problem and proves Bill O'Reilly right. The breakdown of the black family is the root cause of this problem.