Issue link: http://www.wacmagazine.com/i/946983
40 WAC Magazine | wac.net bouts in 2018. As of press time, his next fight was scheduled for Saturday, March 17, at Emerald Queen Casino in Tacoma. "He's an elite athlete and a strong leader," WAC Senior Vice President Wayne Milner says. "We're looking forward to watching him move through the light-heavyweight ranks." For Richard, it's sometimes all too difficult to believe. Schooldays ere was a time, growing up, when Richard Vansiclen was homeless. He'd been living with his mother and an older brother in a low-income neighborhood of Portland, Oregon. Richard recalls gangs in the streets, open drug use, and the occa- sional sound of gunshots. When a fire destroyed their house, Richard's mom had nowhere to turn. Only an emergency shelter in a church base- ment kept the family off the street. ey moved into a shared room with eight beds and two small plastic bins to store their clothes. Richard recalls staying for a few months. He remembers long hours spent out- side aer school, waiting for the shelter doors to open at 9 pm. He and his brother would collect cans from park trash bins and return them for change to buy food. "My mom gets emotional when I ask about it," Richard says. "It was a really humbling experience." By the time of the fire, three other brothers had already disappeared to lives of foster care and crime. A single sister was lost to adoption. "It's really sad to see," Richard says. "You're seeing your brothers and your family go through the system and it not really work for them." But something else happened around this time. Richard's mom signed him up for a mentor program. "at changed my life," Richard says. He was in third grade and barely reading. "My mentor gave me a whole new perspective at a young age," Richard says. "He went above and beyond, he definitely did. He taught me to read. He showed me that there's other parts of life than seeing guys roll dice outside your window and smoking pot and getting into fights and shootouts." For the first time, Richard started to care about school for more than its free breakfast and lunch. He may have been young, but Richard realized he was being offered a chance. Now entering the ring Richard's mom eventually moved her remaining two sons out of the shelter; relocated to Vancouver, Washington; and found new stability. Richard's grades improved and he began to participate in sports, growing into a star in high school football, basketball and track. He declined offers to play football at small colleges in the Midwest and enrolled at the University of Washington. He briefly tried out for the UW football team but decided against it. A year later, he took to the ring for the Huskies. "I was 19 years old, never boxed before, wasn't really sure what I was doing," he says. Tryouts under Mendez might as well have been military boot camp. "He runs it like basic training," Richard says. "It's hell, and most people want to quit." Of the 130 who originally showed up, a few dozen made it through. Richard was on the list. "e coaches believed in me from day one," he says. e memory of homelessness and despair helped push him through the pain, and those old struggles still motivate him today. "It was a cold, dark experience," he says. "But from being in that time and place you get character. Being able to come from that and my circumstances now, the people that I've met, it's just amazing. I would never have pictured this when I was in my bed hungry in a homeless shelter." Outside the ring, Richard is eyeing a master's degree in nutrition and exploring the idea of creating a mentorship program of his own. He wants to help others avoid the same future he narrowly escaped. "A lot of my friends didn't make it out," he says. "A lot … are in jail or in prison or dead." at's a tough history to carry, and it's just the kind of thing that can turn a boxer into a champion. —Darrick Meneken is managing editor of WAC Magazine. 40 WAC Magazine | wac.net Richard and his mentor. After a game with mom. High school graduation. During a recent photo shoot. A D R I A N R A E