and my grandmother's sister, aunt lavinia is here. young african american girl in public housing. my grandmother as you know raised me and my brothers and her daughter, my aunt mickey, in public housing on $900 a month. the world seemed destined for me for drugs or motherhood and teenaged motherhood, jail, or even a violent death because of the gun violence that had ravaged our community. but my community, this city, had other plans for me. i woke up in a public housing unit. i took a public bus to a public school every day. i had incredible teachers and counsellors who looked out for me and believed in me. and i walked home with some of my friends from the neighborhood and we looked out for each oth other. my grandmother, miss camellia brown, at the end of the day she watched over me just like she's watching over all of us here today. miss brown was hard working and as tough as nails. you didn't live in her house if you didn't go to school. you know, she looked out for so many people, people in the neighborhood who she would sometime