When I was 10 my dad incited a fight and then watched me be put into a choke-hold by a bully and left me to defend myself. Gotta love my dad and his ways of teaching survival skills. Forget the scouts lessons on how to make a fire out of rocks and sticks. Those tools didn't help in the projects where I grew up. This is what happened! One summer day while waiting in line at the ice cream truck, a boy on his bike hit me with the front tire and pushed me out of the way to cut in line. I was a frail child weighing a possible 49 pounds soak and wet. Soon as it happened I turned to find my dad for help. I go over to my dad and tell him that a boy hit me, pointing at the kid as I tattled. My dad walked back with me to the ice cream truck and called out to the kid. "You hit my daughter?" he asked in his strong boricua accent. I stood there with a 'that's right m*f and a grin on my face', waiting for the aftermath of what was about to happen. My dad was no joke! Then I