Today we’d like to introduce you to Mashaun Hirschler
Hi Mashaun, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My story starts when I was just eight years old. My mom, caught in her addiction to crack cocaine, kicked me out. By the time I was 13, I had entered the foster care system. What hurt the most was realizing that because I was Black, my own grandmother didn’t want me—she chose not to take me in. But just three months later, she took in my white brother and raised him herself. That moment broke something in me.
By 17, I was already headed to prison. Over the next several years, I went in and out four different times, serving a total of 10 years. But it was during my last time locked up that something changed. I was around 22 when I really started learning how to read and write properly. While incarcerated, I enrolled in Western Texas College and earned my associate degree with a 3.5 GPA. Walking across that stage—without an audience, without anyone cheering—was still one of the most powerful moments of my life. For the first time, I realized that no one could stop me from reaching my goals but me. That was the moment I finally felt free.
I got out in 2017, and while I did slip back into addiction, I was what they call a “functioning addict.” Even while using, I managed to buy my first truck off the lot, move to Kingsville, and start a roofing and remodeling company. I was even renting-to-own my first home. Life looked good—until it wasn’t. The addiction caught up with me, and everything started to unravel again.
By the end of 2018 and into early 2019, my wife and I were homeless in Austin. That’s when my son came into my life. We ended up moving to San Antonio, and the only place that would take in a single father with a child was Haven for Hope. My wife and son were both battling serious mental health challenges, and I was carrying deep trauma from my own past—especially from the time I spent in San Antonio as a kid. I had to fight through it all and find a way forward.
We left Haven for Hope in December 2019. Not long after, I started connecting with young guys at Alazán Courts on the West Side. A lot of them were deep in the street life, carrying guns, living fast. I felt called to give them an outlet, something different—so we started doing basketball and pizza nights. Just showing up and being consistent.
A year and a half later, in 2023, we opened the doors to our first ministry house. Since then, we’ve been serving homeless young men between the ages of 18 and 24—teaching life skills, emotional regulation, and helping them understand that while they have every right to feel their feelings, they also have the power to choose how they respond. We’re teaching them that anger doesn’t have to control them.
Since opening, we’ve served over 50 young men. It hasn’t been easy—funding has been limited, and people told me I couldn’t do it. They said I didn’t have the experience or knowledge to run a nonprofit. And honestly, they were right—I didn’t. But what I did have was the determination to figure it out. I learned how to build a 501(c)(3), how to network, make partnerships, and grow our reach.
God’s hand has been in it every step of the way. From being homeless in 2020 to launching an organization in 2023, here we are in 2025, entering our second year of nonprofit work—helping young men in our community heal, grow, and find purpose, one life at a time.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Has it been a smooth road?
Not at all. This road has been full of struggle, pain, setbacks, and moments where I almost gave up. But every obstacle taught me something, and every storm built something in me that ease never could.
Starting out, I was coming from a place of trauma, addiction, incarceration, and homelessness. I didn’t have a blueprint for success, and I definitely didn’t have people lining up to support me. I had to learn everything from the ground up—how to build a nonprofit, how to create partnerships, how to fundraise, how to lead, and how to heal at the same time.
There were times I was trying to help others while still fighting my own battles—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. We didn’t always have the funding. There were nights I didn’t know how we were going to keep the ministry house running, how we’d feed the young men we were helping, or how to keep going when people said I wasn’t qualified or capable.
But through it all, God kept making a way. Doors opened that I didn’t even knock on. People showed up when I was at my lowest. And the same young men we were helping started speaking life back into me.
So no, it hasn’t been smooth—but it’s been worth every bump. Because now I can look back and see how far He’s brought me, and how many lives are being changed because I didn’t quit.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
At Thuggin for Christ, our mission is to reach young men—especially those ages 18 to 24—who are experiencing homelessness, caught up in street life, or just trying to find their way in a world that’s failed them. We provide safe housing, life skills training, mentorship, emotional support, and most importantly—real community. We don’t just give them a bed and a meal—we give them a family, a purpose, and a path forward.
What we specialize in is connection. We meet these young men right where they are, without judgment, because I was them. This isn’t theory for us—it’s lived experience. We know what it feels like to be written off, to be told you’re not worth investing in. So we pour into them the way no one poured into us.
We’re known for being raw, real, and relatable. There’s no red tape here—just love, accountability, and opportunity. We use everything from basketball and music to one-on-one talks and group sessions to reach these young men emotionally and spiritually.
What I’m most proud of is seeing transformation happen—watching a young man who came in angry, broken, and lost begin to believe in himself, heal, and take real steps toward a better future. So far, we’ve served over 50 young men, and every single one of them has a story worth fighting for.
What sets us apart is that this isn’t just a program—it’s a movement. We’re not led by professionals in suits who studied this in a classroom. We’re led by survivors, overcomers, and Kingdom-minded people who’ve been through the fire and came out refined, not burned. That gives us a level of trust, credibility, and connection that you can’t fake.
We’re Thuggin for Christ—not perfect, not polished, but passionate and purpose-driven. And we’re just getting started.
So maybe we end on discussing what matters most to you and why?
What matters most to me is people—specifically, the ones the world overlooks. The ones written off as “too far gone.” The young men society labels as thugs, criminals, addicts, or lost causes. Because I was one of them. I know what it feels like to be discarded, to go unheard, unseen, and unloved.
That’s why I care so deeply about showing up for them—not with judgment, but with truth, love, and opportunity. What matters to me is being a reflection of God’s grace, because if He could redeem my life, then I know there’s hope for anyone. I believe every life has value, and every story deserves a chance to be rewritten.
At the end of the day, it’s not about titles or recognition. It’s about legacy. It’s about planting seeds in people that grow long after we’re gone. That’s what matters most.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.thugginforchrist.com
- Instagram: thugginforchrist_
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/1Etaep3jKJ/?mibextid=wwXIfr
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@t.h.u.g.g.i.nforchrist4530?si=gM4GoDT4bmxx3qrB
