Man In His Domain: Compton Cowboys

Where have all the cowboys gone? South Los Angeles, it turns out. A Compton-based nonprofit reframes a whitewashed way of life

- Anita Little

The morning sun is just beginning to peek out over the horizon, dyeing the sky over Compton a soft pink. Roosters are crowing, announcing the start of a new day on the quiet houselined street. As I step out of my car my first thought is that I must be in the wrong place; there’s no way this is the address of a cowboy ranch.

I hear an unfamiliar clop clop approaching, and I turn to see a young black man in a hoodie, tatted and with dreadlocks, trotting down the center of the street atop a dark horse — a restless Tennessee walker whose name I’ll later find out is Ebony. The man regards me coolly as he saunters past, exhaling a small plume of smoke. He looks no more out of place against this urban backdrop than the cars that cruise alongside. I feel as though I’ve stepped into an old Western film, albeit one in which the cowboys and cowgirls look less like John Wayne and more like me.

The Compton Cowboys, a group of 10 friends who grew up riding together, operate out of Richland Farms, a two-acre spread tucked behind the houses on this unassuming block. Formally launched less than three years ago, the outfit has made a name for itself in and outside of Compton by reintroducing — yes, reintroducing — cowboy culture to black urban communities.

“The ranch you’re on is 30 years of work,” says Randall Hook once he has brought me past the gates of his family’s rambler and into a broad backyard lined with stables. Also known as Randy Savvy, Hook is the managing member of the Compton Cowboys. “My brother and I were born into the horse thing,” he says. The rest of the group consists of friends, family members and curious locals.