I was saved at the age of 16. After contemplating suicide, I took a walk to say goodbye to this cold world and during my walk I saw a building that read, "Light of The World Christian Center." I didn't know that it was a church. I though that it was a center, some sort of community building that might have youth in it and even someone to talk to. When I walked in, I was greeted and fed and one of the older ministers said, "There's a reason why you're here." My life would change forever. I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and savior.

I attended church every Sunday without exception. Every Tuesday and Thursday night I was at Bible Study. I would even lead Bible studies at church and school. I've read the entire New Testament about four times and was even a youth minister that sometimes preached in front of 100 people at different churches through out Northern California.

At 18, I decided that I wanted to become a pastor and I enrolled at a Bible School. I was there for close to a year when I realized that Christianity was not for me. I observed a doctrine that sometimes didn't go parallel with the Holy Bible and when it didn't, it was oppressive, judgmental and even hateful.

We would have prayer circles and pray for the U.S soldiers in Afghanistan, but never about the Afghanis. Slogans like "God Bless America" were considered righteous, and the good ol' American values were somehow Christian. During a class lecture a professor told us that the guerillas in Central America were wrong for using the name of God to justify their war, as a Salvadorian I objected and asked, "What's the difference between what the guerillas did and what the Marines are doing now?" I got no response and the professor's face turned red. I left Christianity and I never returned to church again. Although this was only one institutions' perspective of Christianity, it was enough for me to walk away.

Leaving the Church was pretty difficult. I felt guilty that I had let people down, especially my youth group, as I would tell the youth about Jesus and then I decided to leave the Church. I struggled with it for a few months until I didn't feel the guilt anymore.

Although I am not a Christian now, I still have much respect for Christianity just like any other religion, because Christianity -- just like anything else -- is about humans searching for something greater than themselves, something that makes life worth living, and something that can give them the strength and will to keep living. And just like anything else, Christianity also has its flaws. People always point at Christianity as being fanatical, but other groups are often accused as being extremist. How is that any different?  

I left the church out of a political understanding, which also brought me to the leftist political circles. What I have observed in the past few years is that many of these circles lack any sort of respect for Christianity.

Many times people that lack such respect haven't even read the Bible in depth. If they did, they would know that Jesus was someone that stood for nothing but justice for all people. The Bible is a beautiful book that speaks on exploitation, corruption, greed, and oppression. It seems that in every circle gathering pertaining to political organizing, Christianity is not welcomed. People talk about conquistadors and slavery and how Christianity was behind it all. Although Christians did enslave, conquer and did shape the world as a whole, I doubt that such things were faith-driven. Rather, they were driven by other forces like greed, power, and riches -- things that some Christian European rulers had. I also doubt that the world was a peaceful place before Christianity came along.

Whenever there are events that are put together by leftist groups, they have every type of spiritual ceremony except for Christian. There's the Aztec dancing, indigenous prayers, spiritual healings, drum circles, incense burning, but there is never room for a Christian prayer.  

It seems that this occurs only in this country. It seems that the ability to denounce a Christian God is a privilege that can only truly manifest in a privileged nation such as this one, often committed by activists privileged enough to do so. Throughout Latin America (including El Salvador, where I am from), people use Christianity as the frontline for their movements. Even in this country during the civil rights era, people were gathering in churches and using Christian values to fight for equality. And today, in the most ghetto hoods of America, people are gathering in churches for political means.

In the 60's, the hippie era took effect and greatly sculpted our current left political landscape. That movement wasn't founded on a human struggle, but rather a "consciousness" that took place in rich schools like Berkeley where people were encouraged to walk away from church. I am not suggesting that church is where people needed to be, but after this, people seemed to have forgotten that just a few years prior African Americans lead the civil rights movement that would change the course of this country forever. The people that lead it were Christians.

Church wasn't for me, but I could still understand and respect Christianity. Some people need Jesus. I know that my starving people of El Salvador did.

A while back, I was the opening act at a hip hop show that featured underground MCs from San Jose and Los Angeles. The show took place in a small theater venue in downtown San Jose. As I walked off the stage after performing my set, I kept my head down, thinking that no one had paid to see my performance.

But outside was a group of people playing the role of groupies. They asked me to stand next to a car so they could take my picture. In return, they gave me a magazine and a CD. Suddenly, I felt like a superstar.

Little did I know this was only the beginning of a multimillion dollar campaign Toyota was setting up to sell its new product line, Scion, to younger drivers.

Since then, Scion has been making its presence known in the underground hip hop community. In and around San Jose, Calif., where I live, Scion paraphernalia can be found at most hip hop venues. Toyota's marketing strategy makes it clearer than ever that underground urban culture is a sought-after commodity.

Corporations have long used urban culture to market their products. I remember a McDonald's commercial where a circle of black youth were rapping about a Big Mac. Anyone who knew anything about MCing could tell you that those MCs were pretty whack, and that the idea of rappin' about how McDonald's burgers make you feel better was pretty corny. There's also the commercial that features a guy in K-Swiss tennis shoes break dancing. But in the hip hop scene, K-Swiss is labeled a "preppy" shoe by everyone I know.

But unlike McDonald's or K-Swiss, Scion has been doing a good job in maintaining its street credibility while selling its product. In 2003, Toyota sold about 11,000 of the newly introduced vehicles. In 2004, they sold close to 100,000.

Scion's secret is that they don't use fake gimmicks; they stick with the real deal. They produce a monthly magazine that features some of the hottest underground hip hop heads from the Bay Area to London. Half of the magazine focuses on urban trends in fashion, art, digital media, etc. The other half is nothing but Scion ads.

The magazine can be compared to URB magazine, one of the most dominant urban magazines in the world. This is no accident. The people behind URB -- a marketing firm called Rebel Organization -- are also responsible for Scion's marketing strategy. Rebel Organization has also run successful marketing campaigns for Reebok and T-Mobile.

Apparently, they've learned from the mistakes other corporations have made in trying to tap into urban culture. "Scion doesn't attach itself to big stars," says Josh Levine, president of Rebel Organization and a lead sculptor of Scion's marketing plan. "Instead, it captures the local scenes, because that's where urban culture really takes place."

In the local market of San Jose, Scion sponsors and supports many hip hop functions. In return, the company asks that Scion banners be put up and Scion merchandise -- hats, shirts, CDs and magazines -- handed out.

The latest Scion magazine asks the question, "What is Independent?" and features DJ J Boogie from San Francisco, legendary Graffiti writer Sabe, and rapper Guru from Gang Star, among others. Underground hip hop culture in general is based on "keepin' it real," and hip hoppers have always questioned the integrity of others by asking them if they're "keepin' it real." But what happens when a corporation is the one asking you that question?

Some underground artists say that going corporate means selling out, while others say companies such as Scion could now be contributors to the culture.

Tommy Aguilar -- the events coordinator of the Movimiento Arte Cultural Latino Americana, which hosts regular hip hop events -- is one of the leaders of the San Jose hip hop scene. He can usually be found downtown, wearing a newspaper-boy hat and reporter-style glasses, promoting the hip hop events he puts together through his independent collective Universal Grammar.

Aguilar is responsible for bringing such acts as Crown City Rockers, Lyrics Born and DJ Questlove to San Jose -- all with the help of Scion. Aguilar says having Scion sponsorship does not infringe on the authenticity of the functions. "The money they give us doesn't change our program," he says -- "it's simply put to good use."

Five years ago, Aguilar says, he saw the issue of corporate sponsorship in a less positive light. His newer understanding of the business aspect of hip hop is representative of a growing understanding in the underground scene that artists need to be getting paid in order for the culture to maintain itself.

Kenny May is on the opposite end of the spectrum. May is the founder of Funk Lab Productions, a promoting collective that has dominated the break dancing scene in San Jose for the past decade. May has never received sponsorship from Scion. Even when the corporation offers the hip hop community financial support, he says, "they are still taking advantage of us, because the corporations will always get the upper hand."

When I ask Josh Levine what he thinks about people saying that Scion is just another corporation trying to take advantage of artists, he uses hip hop to frame his response.

"It's no different than an MC. Although some people would like to see the MC come up, you'll always have tons who want to see that MC fail."