San Diego – or Sun Diego….many images come to mind when someone mentions the city: the palm trees, the beach, the sea breeze. Or maybe it’s not the beach town vibe you get when you hear about SD. Maybe you think of all the old retirees? Or maybe the Navy bases? At the end of the day, you have mental images of the La Jolla beaches, the great sunny weather, and the SDSU women – all things that point towards carefree lives. But I wanted to bring attention to a different side of the city. This side is probably one you’ve never heard of. This place has less palm trees and more police cars patrolling the streets, kinda far from all the beaches and SeaWorld. This is Southeast Daygo, the home of all your low income, minority families currently on the brink of re-gentrification.

San Diego – or Sun Diego….many images come to mind when someone mentions the city: the palm trees, the beach, the sea breeze. Or maybe it’s not the beachtown vibe you get when you hear about SD. Maybe you think of all the old retirees? Or maybe the Navy bases? At the end of the day, you have mental images of the La Jolla beaches, the great sunny weather, and the SDSU women – all things that point towards carefree lives. But I wanted to bring attention to a different side of the city. This side is probably one you’ve never heard of. This place has less palm trees and more police cars patrolling the streets, kinda far from all the beaches and SeaWorld. This is Southeast Daygo, the home of all your low income, minority families currently on the brink of re-gentrification.

I, Emmanuel Iheke, was born and raised in Southeast Daygo (the Diamond District for those that know). I went to Abraham Lincoln High School, or “Lincoln”, a school that embodies the rich history and culture of the entire community. It rests on the intersection of Imperial Ave and Willie James Jones St. – named after one of the school’s past valedictorians who was shot and killed the day after graduation. He had a scholarship to go to Cornell University. As the day came for me to take the stage at my high school graduation, I knew I would not be attending and graduation parties after it was all said and done. I didn’t want to have a street named after me, at least not like that. Southeast Daygo has swallowed the lives of too many young Black men and women. It was the summer before my freshman year in college when I received a phone call from my best friend telling me one of our childhood homies was shot and killed right off the street from the one we grew up on. 

I spent that summer having to explain to everyone I met at UCLA where I was from – Southeast Daygo – and how I wasn’t rich, or the son of retirees. Every time I tried to explain, others would smack their teeth and talk about how I knew nothing about “this” or nothing about “that”. Out of frustration I would just stop the conversation before I got MAD mad. Nothing is worse than when someone discredits what you’ve been through. Southeast Daygo is a place I love and a place I want to change. It is a place filled with so much talent and culture, but like every town, we have  negative aspects we have to take accountability for.

I am not writing about my hometown to just lament about the negatives. If you want to hear all the negatives, all you have to do is watch the news (cuz that’s all they care to cover); or just bring up “Lincoln” in a conversation with an old racists from San Clemente. 

Southeast Daygo is my home. Southeast Daygo is filled with entrepreneurs, fashion designers, scholars, visionaries… Southeast Daygo is filled with trendsetters, positive community influencers, passionate teachers and coaches. Southeast Daygo has the best Mexican food in America. Southeast Daygo is a product of the hardwork many immigrant and non-immigrant minorities put in to create a community that could take care of it’s kids. Sure – we got a lot we still gotta work on, but we got something special. Don’t believe me?  Walk into a Lincoln or Morse High School Homecoming football game. Run intense fives at PB rec. Order a Cali Burrito at Jauqin’s on the 4 Corners of Life. Buy a Champion hoodie for $12 at Marios off of Plaza Blvd. Fill your tank up with $3.50 gas. Watch one of our teams play for CIF every year. And the list goes on – it don’t stop.

With all of the athletic, musical, artistic and intellectual talent and gifts Southeast has to offer, Southeast Daygo is THAT hood in America that is out here making it happen for itself – by itself. We built this town, we swear by this town. We ALL rep this town. You’ve had numerous cities have their time in the pop culture spotlight: LA/Compton, New York, Bay Area, Atlanta… One day, sooner than you think, it will be our turn.

R.I.P. Greg