Rayonna's father's name was Ray, her mother was Madonna. She grew up in San Diego’s East County, where her father and uncle worked at the Buck Knife factory.
She describes her dad affectionately as a long-haired hippie who grew great pot and sold mushrooms. “He preferred organics,” she laughed. When the Buck Knives operation moved to Idaho, the uncle went with them, but her dad stayed and started his own water purification company. When it was profitable he sold that and worked with a partner creating another business that made money, and sold that. He instilled a work ethic in Rayonna: if she wanted to go somewhere, he'd tell her to pull weeds to earn money to pay for her adventures.

Now 40, she's been on the street most of her life, tweaking like her mother does. She has had five pregnancies. Two, a boy and a girl, are still living. But she lost three; she was living on the street during those pregnancies. One died in infancy, another to leukemia at age 15. The last one, a son, was born in October 2016, and died a few days later.

Rayonna said the hardest thing for women, especially pregnant women, is that there's no safe, nurturing shelter environment for them. "You can't stay at Rachel's, you can't stay at PATH, you can stay at St. Vincent's," she said, "but it's hell living there. I hear they have bed bugs again."

When she was pregnant last year she pleaded with people at PATH to help her find housing. She thought being pregnant qualified her for emergency services, or at least more assistance than a woman who isn't pregnant. They turned her away.

It's hard to create a consistent, comfortable space outside, she said. San Diego Police woke her and her friends up on A Street at 9:45 p.m. one night last year, and told them they couldn't sleep there. She had a HOT team officer on speed dial, and when she contacted the HOT team officer, that officer asked to speak to the SDPD officer. She was then allowed to stay there for the rest of her pregnancy.

Having already lost two babies in infancy, she made sure she stayed clean and sober for the duration of this last pregnancy, telling her friends to stay away from her if they were going to do drugs. But after the baby died, and her boyfriend left because he couldn't handle the emotion of losing a child, she crumbled, and relapsed.

Because of her experience, she takes in and counsels young girls on the street, admonishing them to stay clean when they are pregnant. One "street daughter" she rescued from an abusive relationship and got her indoors, helping the young mother keep her child and get a fresh start. Other girls she tells them they don't need to sell themselves or push drugs to get a roof over their heads. She's been propositioned for sex more frequently in the past six months, she said, than any other time in her life.

"Nobody defends the woman any more, and that's a problem on the streets," she said. "The women are the bearers of all the bullshit the men do out here. I've got a daughter, a street daughter out here, 21 years old. Somebody wanted revenge and they ran her over with a car. Right now she's fighting for her life."

The only time she got in trouble with the law was being arrested for being homeless and sleeping where she'd been told not to sleep. She stays out of jail because she's smart, she said. "I'm real. These people out here can't handle real, they can't handle honesty, can't handle truth, because that makes them have to face their own reality."

Rayonna said she doesn't have the luxury of living in a fantasy about life on the street. Her world is stark harsh reality because she has cancer, and her dog has cancer which means she could die having her puppies next month.

"My world's real because I might not be here today or tomorrow. And with losing my kid and everything, I know how short life really is," she said. "It could end before it starts."