Kapitel 4
Richard's Reality: Growing Up in East Oakland
Richard's childhood unfolded in a very different Oakland. His mother Jasmine was just fourteen when she discovered she was already four and a half months pregnant with him. Despite her youth, she ran a disciplined household, raising Richard with strong values-teaching him prayers, manners, and respect.
Their family dynamic changed dramatically when Richard was nine; his aunt Savannah was killed in a shooting, leaving behind two daughters who moved in with them. Richard felt displaced: "I don't get any attention now." Despite financial struggles, Jasmine dreamed of Richard attending college-a significant aspiration in their community.
By his early teens, Richard had joined a crew called the Heartbreak Kidz (HBK). "I'm not going to say we were angels," his friend Cherie later admitted, "but we all had good hearts. We looked out for each other because that was all we knew." Richard, at fourteen, was one of the youngest and most protected: "Skeet used to take up for him... Richard was like a little brother." His goofy, obnoxious antics made him the group's comedian.
But a beach day in April 2012 changed everything. After multiple confrontations that day, Richard and his friends were arrested. Some were released on probation with GPS monitors while others were sent to group homes. Richard was initially released with GPS monitoring but later sentenced to a group home in Redding, over three hours from Oakland.
While Richard was away, his best friend Skeet was murdered. When Richard heard the news from his mother, he broke down crying so hard he dropped the phone and walked away. "That killed Richard," Cherie said later. "It killed all of us." While Cherie had friends to support her through the funeral, Richard was alone in his group home three and a half hours away, with no one who understood his grief.
When Richard returned to Oakland after a year in Redding, he showed signs of maturity and determination. He joined a job-training program and impressed his supervisor with his intelligence and focus. Richard took pride in arriving promptly and doing quality work. He even offered to help his mother with bills rather than spending his earnings on himself.
But Oakland's dangers remained. In late October of Richard's junior year, he was robbed at gunpoint, losing everything-his shoes, wallet, money, phone, and coat. The experience deepened his wariness, as reflected in a poem he wrote: "Who in this world can you trust? When the guns are drawn, when the sun goes down, when you're walking in the shadows, Who Can You Trust?"
Kapitel 5
The Day Everything Changed: November 4, 2013
Sasha's daily hour-long commute from Maybeck High School involved multiple transfers, but they didn't mind. They loved buses-the intersecting transit lines on maps, the precise schedules, even drawing imaginary transit systems in their spare time. On November 4, they were unusually tired from staying up late writing a Russian Lit paper, and as the bus rattled along MacArthur Boulevard, their eyes drifted closed.
The 57 bus's surveillance cameras captured Lloyd and Richard boarding just before 5 p.m., walking toward the back where Sasha slept with Anna Karenina in their lap. Lloyd was boisterous-bouncing, rapping, shouting random words. Jamal, already seated at the back, pointed out Sasha's skirt to the others. He handed Richard a lighter and positioned his iPhone to record, saying "You might as well do it."
Richard flicked the lighter near Sasha's skirt several times. Nothing happened until the fourth attempt, just as Lloyd called for the back door to exit. Richard jumped off, but Lloyd froze, watching as Sasha's skirt erupted into flames.
The surveillance video shows Sasha leaping up in terror, screaming "I'm on fire!" while frantically slapping at their white skirt engulfed in flames. Passengers fled screaming while Jamal initially laughed before yelling for help. Two men rushed through the panicking crowd. "Get down!" the mustached man shouted, pushing Sasha to the floor and smothering the flames with his coat while the other man stamped out burning fabric fragments.
After jumping off the bus, Richard walked away trying to look casual, but stopped when he heard Sasha's screams. He watched as the bus continued briefly before lurching to the curb with passengers spilling out. Richard approached, circling past Sasha who paced the sidewalk on charred legs, staring at them before rejoining Jamal and Lloyd. The three fled to another bus.
Karl was still in his classroom when Sasha called: "Dad. I need you to come right now. I was on the bus and I got set on fire." Disbelieving, Karl kept asking Sasha to repeat themselves as he ran block after block to find Sasha lying on the sidewalk in their underwear, shivering and hyperventilating.
At Saint Francis Memorial Hospital's Bothin Burn Center, Dr. Richard Grossman assessed the multicolored wounds on Sasha's legs, noting with concern the leathery white areas indicating third-degree burns that had penetrated all layers of skin down to the fat. Dr. Grossman estimated the burns covered 22 percent of Sasha's body.
Kapitel 6
The Aftermath: Pain and Healing
Sasha's first morning in the hospital was marked by overwhelming anxiety, a common reaction to severe burns. The next day, Dr. Grossman performed surgery, removing layers of dead skin until reaching bleeding tissue, then covering the wound with temporary pig skin grafts.
Five days after Sasha's second surgery, doctors harvested strips of skin from their back using a Dermatome. Each strip was passed through a meshing device that perforated it with tiny holes so it could cover a larger area, then placed over Sasha's wounds and stapled into place. While the burn sites were now covered with new skin, Sasha's back was raw and exposed. The pain was excruciating-more intense than the burns had been.
Support for Sasha flooded in immediately. Letters, packages, and donations arrived daily-an online medical fund raised over $31,000. Sasha eagerly anticipated each day's mail, receiving paper cranes, money, a soft blanket, Star Wars stickers, a TARDIS drawing, a handmade skirt and vest, a purple quilt, letters in invented languages with beautiful calligraphy, and countless cards from around the world.
On November 8, everyone at Maybeck-teachers, students, and staff-wore skirts in solidarity with Sasha. A week later, about 150 supporters, including students from both Maybeck and Oakland High Schools, marched along the 57 bus route. Television cameras competed for the best shots as marchers tied rainbow ribbons to bus stop poles, carrying balloons, glow sticks and signs declaring "ACCEPT EVERYONE," "WE'RE ALL SASHA," and "WE HECKA LOVE YOU, SASHA!"
Sasha was released from the hospital twenty-three days after the fire, with reporters and news helicopters surrounding their home. They gave an interview to local news wearing a skirt over bandaged legs. "I was really excited that an agender person was in the news," they reflected later. "But I wasn't that excited about the circumstances, obviously."
Sasha's recovery brought many "Worst Days" and "Worst Nights." Their legs constantly itched from graft sites and bandages. Normal activities became difficult: showering (now seated, using a handheld shower), getting dressed (both legs wrapped in three layers of bandages), and attending school (exhaustion was overwhelming). Sometimes they couldn't help wondering why this happened, feeling incredulous at how quickly life had changed: "One minute you're on your way home from school and then it's an ambulance and a hospital and surgery and pain... How is this a thing that happens?"
Kapitel 7
Justice or Punishment? Richard's Legal Journey
The day after the incident, Richard called his mentor Kaprice Wilson urgently asking to speak with her. When he arrived at lunchtime, her office was full of students. While escorting one reluctant girl out, Kaprice got locked out of her own office. She retrieved a spare key, but when she returned minutes later, Richard was gone. She found him outside being led away in handcuffs by police officers, never learning what he'd wanted to tell her.
After his arrest, Richard was placed in interview room 202, where officers took his shoelaces, belt, bandanna, and hoodie cord before leaving him alone for over two hours. When Officers Jones and Anderson finally arrived, they established rapport by asking about his life, school, and relationships. Richard spoke candidly about his struggles in school, his time in a group home, and the murder of his best friend.
During questioning, Richard initially claimed he only witnessed the aftermath of the fire. When asked about his views on "dudes who dress up in skirts," Richard admitted being "very homophobic" though he claimed not to hate gay people-just those who "do too much" by "cross-dressing." After Richard repeated his story, Officer Jones confronted him with photographs from the bus surveillance video. After viewing just a snippet, Richard's demeanor changed completely. When pressed about his motives, he initially claimed "Nothin'" was going through his mind, but eventually admitted, "I'm homophobic. I don't like gay people."
Two days after Richard's arrest, the district attorney's office released his name publicly, charging him as an adult with two felonies: "aggravated mayhem" and "assault with intent to cause great bodily injury." Each charge carried a hate-crime enhancement. If convicted, Richard faced a maximum sentence of life imprisonment-a punishment impossible in juvenile court.
The decision to charge Richard as an adult reflected a broader shift in juvenile justice that began in the 1990s. While the juvenile justice system was originally founded on the principle that young offenders were malleable and different from adults, the crime wave of the late 1980s and early 1990s sparked fear of juvenile "super-predators." In response, states enacted direct-file laws allowing juvenile offenders to be tried as adults. Though juvenile crime rates have actually fallen steadily since 1994 and the "super-predator" threat proved mythical, these laws remained, disproportionately affecting Black and Latino youth.
Kapitel 8
Restorative Possibilities: Seeking Healing Beyond Punishment
As Richard's case progressed, community advocates began exploring alternatives to traditional punishment. Darris Young, an organizer who had served seventeen years in prison, saw potential for a different solution when he learned Sasha's family preferred juvenile rather than adult charges. Having witnessed young people getting younger in the prison system, he believed Richard was "salvageable" without incarceration.
Restorative justice expert Sujatha Baliga was contacted about the case. While she made herself available to the district attorney's office, she never directly approached the victims. Restorative justice in Alameda County was sometimes used to divert juveniles from criminal court through family group conferencing, bringing together the offender, their family, supportive adults, and the victim to discuss the harm and create a repair plan. Studies showed participants were 60% less likely to reoffend than those in traditional legal processes.
Though Baliga knew Richard's case was too severe for complete diversion, she felt both families were "gorgeously enlightened, beautiful people" who were perfect candidates for restorative dialogue. However, Debbie and Karl weren't interested in further meetings. While the spontaneous encounter with Jasmine had felt healing, Debbie couldn't see what she would gain from meeting Richard.
Richard's lawyer, Bill Du Bois, dismissed the restorative justice discussions as a distraction, insisting the district attorney would never consider it. The DA's office maintained they wouldn't object to the families pursuing restorative justice, but it wouldn't reduce Richard's incarceration time. The legal system operated on its own rigid logic: guilty vs. innocent, prosecutor vs. defense attorney, victim vs. offender.
Kapitel 9
Letters of Remorse: Richard's Undelivered Apologies
On November 8, 2013, Richard wrote to Sasha, addressing them as "Victum." In his handwritten apology, he expressed remorse for his actions, writing "I was wrong for what I did" and "I don't know what was going through my head." He insisted "I'm not a monster" and that he thought about what happened "every second." Richard asked for forgiveness, promised to take responsibility and accept all consequences, and wished Sasha and their family "the best of luck."
Three days later, Richard wrote another letter to Sasha, apologizing again and describing his nightmare where he woke up "sweating and apologizing." He explained he was being charged with great bodily injury and a hate crime, accepting the first charge but rejecting the second: "I don't have a problem with homosexual's I have friends that's homosexuals." He insisted he wasn't a "thug, gangster, hoodlum, nor monster" but "a young African American male who's made a terrible mistake."
Richard's family hired Bill Du Bois, a veteran attorney, to handle his case. Richard gave Du Bois two handwritten letters for Sasha-one dated November 8 and another from November 11. Since the letters contained admissions of guilt, Du Bois placed them in his briefcase, deciding they couldn't be delivered until after the case concluded. Sasha wouldn't read these letters for fourteen months.
In January 2015, fourteen months after Richard wrote them, Sasha finally received his letters. "I sympathized with him a lot," Sasha said, finding his perspective "really moving." Debbie and Karl read them too, with Karl expressing regret at not seeing them a year earlier. "It would've made a difference," Debbie admitted. "For him to say, 'I did wrong and I'm sorry and I hope you get better.' That meant a lot to me." She sighed, "If I'd read the letters, I would have had a different speech to give to him."
Kapitel 10
Moving Forward: Two Lives Transformed
By October 2014, nearly a year after the fire, Richard appeared in court ready to accept a five-year plea deal. Instead, the district attorney suddenly withdrew the offer, demanding seven years in state prison. The new deal included a possible reduction to five years if Richard passed two evaluations. Three months after sentencing, his conduct at the Division of Juvenile Justice would be assessed. If positive, another evaluation would follow before his eighteenth birthday.
In November, Debbie delivered a victim-impact statement directly to Richard, whose eyes filled with tears as she described Sasha's ordeal. "We do not understand your actions," she said, "but we also think that hatred only leads to more hatred and anger." She expressed hope that Richard would gain empathy and understanding, perhaps someday helping others being bullied.
While Richard faced sentencing, Sasha was moving into Epsilon Theta at MIT, a former Navy fraternity that was now "the anti-fraternity"-dry, coed, and full of self-described nerds. Though Sasha was the only nonbinary person, the house changed bathroom names to "men's plus" and "women's plus" at their request. Wearing their purple ET sweatshirt during vacation, Sasha was clearly happy at MIT, having found their people and enjoying classes. The fire was already a distant memory, known to few at MIT.
Richard turned eighteen in Alameda County Juvenile Hall before transferring back to Chad, marking his fifth consecutive birthday in confinement. At Chad, he earned his high school diploma and vocational certificates in programs like Irrigation Design and Forklift Driving. Working for Free Venture, an e-waste recycling nonprofit, he earned $9.70 per hour, allowing him to pay his court fines and save for release.
When Richard returned to court for his second progress report, Judge Delucchi reviewed his "fairly voluminous" positive report. Richard had been attending school, participating in treatment, expressing interest in facility work, and avoiding disciplinary issues. Considering this progress and Sasha's family's position, Delucchi modified Richard's sentence from seven years to five, recommending he serve the entirety in the juvenile system. With credit for time served, Richard would be released just before turning twenty-one.
Kapitel 11
The Lasting Impact: Beyond the 57 Bus
The story of Sasha and Richard reveals how a single moment of cruelty can forever alter multiple lives. Yet it also demonstrates the remarkable capacity for growth, healing, and forgiveness in the face of trauma. Sasha recovered physically and emotionally, finding their place at MIT and continuing their passion for urban planning. Richard, despite the severe consequences of his actions, showed maturity and progress during his incarceration.
Perhaps most remarkably, Sasha's family found it within themselves to forgive. "Sasha, Debbie, and I have forgiven Richard," Karl said during Richard's second progress hearing, his voice breaking. "We hope the state will focus more on preparing him for the world beyond incarceration than on punishing him."
The incident also sparked broader conversations about gender identity, juvenile justice, and restorative approaches to harm. In the years following, society has seen significant gender-neutrality milestones, including expanded recognition of nonbinary identities in government documents, media representation, and everyday spaces.
Yet the stark realities of juvenile incarceration persist: over 54,000 juveniles held in correctional facilities daily at an average annual cost of $146,302 per youth, with African Americans dramatically overrepresented. The long-term consequences are severe, with increased adult incarceration likelihood for those previously detained as juveniles.
As we reflect on the story of the 57 bus, we're left with profound questions about justice, identity, and human connection. How might we create systems that truly rehabilitate rather than merely punish? How can we build communities where differences in gender expression are celebrated rather than attacked? And how might we, like Sasha's family, find the courage to forgive even in the face of tremendous harm?