“Do something; do something” the shelter’s amateur boxing team chants from the back of the chapel. Doc Manny is the youngsters’ coach. In tough neighborhoods downtown, a gym changes lives.
At the moment, the youngsters are imploring their elders to throw a punch in their own defense. 

In one week, the President of the United States visited San Diego and accused homeless shelters of causing homelessness. Days later, the sheriff of Bakersfield up north ducked questions about jailing displaced people for trespassing when they live on the streets.
The young athletes are terrified for their parents and families, and themselves. Lose a job or get sick, and wind up camping in the bushes, a target for law enforcement.
Already, immigrants are caged at the border a few miles south. Kids are separated from their parents and spirited away to who knows where.
So, why are the grown ups yammering about how to fight back against calls to close The Settlement? An active shooter is stalking this refuge, locked and loaded.
Without prompting, Juanito and Ta’leesha Till line up their teammates at the back of the chapel. As if on cue, the whole group, boys and girls together, takes off their tops because they could lose the shirts off their backs. They turn the garments inside out, wave to the crowd and put their sweats back on the wrong side out.
They’re making a point. Who just sold the shelter down river?Who’s the turncoat?

“That’s disrespectful”, growls one of the residents named E Flat. Trump’s the President.

“What about a sucker punch?”, Molca raises a fist. “Doesn’t matter who throws it.”

For the kids’ sake, the ex- flyweight chuckles at E Flat.

“Say goodnight, Gracie!”

“Ride into the sunset!” 

The kids take the meaning and nod yes.