When she was 18, Caheri Gutierrez had half her face blown off in a drive-by shooting. In was nighttime, November, 2008, at the intersection of 98th Avenue and San Leandro Street, in Oakland.
The bullet burst through the passenger side window out of nowhere. It ripped through her face and stopped in the right arm of her friend driving the car.
When Gutierrez awoke in the hospital a week later, she was intubated, she had lost the hearing in her right ear, her face was paralyzed, and she had no teeth.
The one-time teenage model would spend a month at Highland Hospital and undergo numerous surgeries to repair and rebuild her face.
Rebuilding her life would be equally difficult. Her dramatic story is the subject of a recent series of articles called “I Might Have Some Hope Here,” on the blog Ice City Almanac. (http://www.icecityalmanac.blogspot.com/)
Gutierrez grew up in East Oakland. At one time a solid student and volleyball star at Encinal High School, in Alameda, by the time of the shooting Gutierrez had been expelled and sent to an adult continuation school.
“When you’re young and you’re in Oakland,” says Gutierrez, “it’s a trend to be bad, it’s a trend to smoke, to, you know, just not care, I don’t know, it’s stupid. You want to be tough; you want to hang out in the streets. I would cut school, go home, hang out, just chill, I used to smoke a lot of pot, not do much.”
In the hospital, reflecting on her lost face, and her life, Gutierrez says she felt a longing to return to her days of accomplishment.
“I’m hella smart,” says Gutierrez. “I’ve achieved a lot of things in my life, but my face, that part of my life was over, that partying, that modeling, that hanging out. I just wanted to do something different.”
As with soldiers, victims of urban violence suffer mentally from their wounds and the things they see. They become depressed, confused and, of course, angry.
And so the road back was painful and often frightening. Sometimes life in East Oakland is full of temptations, full of barriers. Sometimes Gutierrez fell back into old, bad habits. She needed help.
She had long been alienated from her family, but their steadfast support since the shooting had drawn her, her mother, sister and brother close again.
She got crucial help as well from a program in Oakland called Caught in the Crossfire (CITC), out of the non-profit Youth ALIVE! (sic). CITC provides emotional and practical support to young victims of violence, usually starting right at their hospital bedsides.
Intervention Specialist Tammy Cloud was assigned Gutierrez’ case.
“I remember coming into ICU and she was still unconscious then,” says Cloud. “And seeing that, it was tough to see her.”
Visiting Gutierrez at home, Cloud listened, chided, advised. She took Gutierrez out in her car, took her to doctor appointments, to physical therapy. She helped Gutierrez take care of business.
“She was like a second brain,” says Gutierrez, who calls Cloud her “guardian angel.”
As, slowly, her client’s outward scars healed, as her jaw was un-wired and the brace holding it to her face removed, Cloud encouraged Gutierrez tell her story, especially to young people at risk in Oakland.
When a job opened up at Youth ALIVE!, in a program called Teens on Target (TNT), Cloud suggested Gutierrez apply. TNT helps East Oakland students develop and present talks on how to deal with and avoid violence.
Gutierrez is the students’ mentor and guide. These days she lives in Hayward, but returns to East Oakland regularly, even to the street where she was shot, to work with students. It’s part of the healing process.
“Over there,” she says, “I feel like I’m at home, I feel comfortable. I love Oakland.” Even the invisible scars of her trauma seem well on their way to healing.