Annotations for Subject-headings: Gangs

The New York City school system is still looking for a replacement for ousted Chancellor Joséph Fernandez. The controversial administrator will vacate his post in June. From New York, Mandalit del Barco reports.

The New York City school system is still looking for a replacement for ousted Chancellor Joséph Fernandez. The controversial administrator will vacate his post in June. From New York, Mandalit del Barco reports.

Joséph Fernandez returned to the city where he was born three years ago, vowing to turn around the nation's largest school system. In the end, it was his controversial reforms that put him at odds with his own board of education. His support for social issues created controversy, especially his programs to distribute condoms to high school students and his curriculum to teach respect for gays and lesbians. Fernandez had these words after a meeting in which board members voted not to renew his contract.

Joséph Fernandez returned to the city where he was born three years ago, vowing to turn around the nation's largest school system. In the end, it was his controversial reforms that put him at odds with his own board of education. His support for social issues created controversy, especially his programs to distribute condoms to high school students and his curriculum to teach respect for gays and lesbians. Fernandez had these words after a meeting in which board members voted not to renew his contract.

Some of my detractors have said, “Well, you didn't have to get into these issues of HIV AIDS…You didn't have to get into these issues of tolerance and bias program.” And that's a part of a… major part of educating our kids. I wouldn't have done it differently.

Some of my detractors have said, “Well, you didn't have to get into these issues of HIV AIDS…You didn't have to get into these issues of tolerance and bias program.” And that's a part of a… major part of educating our kids. I wouldn't have done it differently.

In a recently published autobiography, Fernandez details his years as a heroin addict and a gang member who went on to become a teacher and later Miami School superintendent. He also criticized New York's governor and mayor for not spending enough on education. Unless New York City's Board of Education reverses itself or is restructured, Fernandez's contract ends in June. For Latino USA, Mandalit del Barco in New York.

In a recently published autobiography, Fernandez details his years as a heroin addict and a gang member who went on to become a teacher and later Miami School superintendent. He also criticized New York's governor and mayor for not spending enough on education. Unless New York City's Board of Education reverses itself or is restructured, Fernandez's contract ends in June. For Latino USA, Mandalit del Barco in New York.

This is Latino USA, a radio journal of news and culture. I'm María Hinojosa. Today on Latino USA, what it's like to be Latino and gay.

It's very, very difficult just to be lesbian or gay and be Latino, but I guess that at the same time, it's very beautiful.

A conversation with a music man named Dr. Loco.

We decided to take a cultural position in saying, “we're pochos and proud of it.” You know, somos bilingües. So what?

And a commentary from the streets.

I can't join a crew. I just renounced one, but I've got to protect myself. So the only thing left for me is to get a gun, or is it?

All this, here on Latino USA, but first: las noticias.

Bullets, guns, violence, and gangs are a fact of life for an ever-growing number of young people in this country…white, Black, Asian, and Latino. Many Latino kids know this reality only too well and too early in their lives. John Guardo, who came to New York City when he was 12 years old, was a member of a crew for most of his teenage life. Crews are what gangs are called in New York City. Now, Guardo is trying to leave that life behind, but as he tells us in this commentary, leaving his crew may be easier than escaping the violence of the streets.

Last night, I was speaking to my girl on the phone, telling her how bad things were getting around my block and that I decided to buy a gun. She got mad, raising her voice and asking me, "How could you be that ignorant? You know what would happen if you got caught with one?" I said to her, "Yo, I ain't going to be carrying it around and showing it off. Imma keep it at home in case someone tries to break in or mess with my family." She got quiet then.

I was searching for a better answer. I realized what a vicious cycle I was willingly getting into. You see, around my neighborhood, things ain't no joke. I'm a former gang member, so I know what dangers roam the streets. Drug dealers, stick-up kids, crackheads, the whole nine. A glance is reason enough to get jumped. Having outgrown that lifestyle, though, I'm trying to live a regular life, working and going to school. Unfortunately, that also means my family's been taken off the untouchables list. We have all become prey to these urban predators.

Now, under this new set of rules, what am I to do with this trouble? Call the cops? Ha! No one I know, including myself, would do that in case of an emergency. In my eyes, cops are more interested in filling their quota than in serving their community. Dialing 911 has simply become taboo. At this point, I am sandwiched between two problems. Number one, I don't trust the police. The only times they've been there for me was to ram flashlights into my skull while cursing me out. If not that, they've stopped me in front of my building to frisk me as my neighbors watch. Number two, if I remain vulnerable for too long, something bad may happen to my loved ones.

What can I do? I can't join a crew. I just renounced one, but I got to protect myself. So the only thing left for me is to get a gun. Or, is it? You see, I really believe if the cops got their act together, there wouldn't be so much static in the streets. What I mean is not that we lack police presence but that it doesn't matter if there's cops in every corner when they're going to be there to magnify the distrust we already have for them.

Policemen should figure out who the real criminals are, I know, and go after them instead of treating all of us like such. They're the ones who have to change since the problems of the street are always going to be there; there's always going to be crime, and we need protection. These issues may be the bigger picture, but I'm still unable to answer my girl. Every day, I have to deal with these problems, and although I may forget about them, what worries me is that it might be one of my friends who falls into the cycle and goes out to buy the nine. In street slang, that's a nine-millimeter handgun. I'm John Guardo, speaking for the street.

In Kansas City, it was built as a peace and justice summit as African American and Latino gang members gathered to try to chart a new direction for urban youth. From Kansas City, Frank Morris reports.

The gang members, former gang members, and community activists who met at the Urban Peace and Justice Summit have announced goals to make their embattled neighborhoods and barrios safer and wealthier. They say a new generation of urban leaders has emerged from the summit and formed a coalition between African Americans and Latinos to stop gang violence. Nane Alejandrez is executive director of the National Coalition to End Barrio Warfare in Santa Cruz, California.

We're tired of seeing our mothers at the graveyard. I personally have lost 2 brothers, 7 relatives, 20 relatives to the penitentiary, and I am tired, and I come here as a peacemaker.

Summit participants have agreed to spread the urban peace movement to fight police brutality and to pressure President Clinton to create a half a million dollars’ worth of new inner-city youth jobs. For Latino USA, I'm Frank Morris.

In an old classroom in South Seattle, in the community center known as El Centro De La Raza, a transformation is taking place. Two evenings a week, kids as young as eight and as old as 20, some of them just a step away from joining a gang, are instead writing poetry. Ingrid Lobet reports that little by little, the kids and the adults who hear them are realizing the importance of what they have to say.

Outside the old school building, a dozen kids are shooting hoops as a cool night begins to fall across the city of Seattle.

Fellas, let's go.

As 6:30 approaches, the kids file into the classroom from the ball court. Others come in from elsewhere, looking tired. Whether tired or full of energy, the 15 kids in this room are here by choice. They've come because here they can put heart into words.

Ode To My Car. The exhaust blows out like the drop of oil. The black dewey night that passes, simply turn itself into a single piece of grass.

Martinez, Armando (Man) has been coming to El Centro for several months now.

Wild rivers, one drop of water that continues, grass, and then run off with my motor vehicle.

The kids' hands shoot into the air. They can't wait to comment. Their comments encourage, but also suggest certain word changes or changes in delivery. Armando's own older sister has a comment for him. I liked your poem, hijo, she says, it was really good. I like the way you read really slow.

Let's go ahead and stand up. It really helps to stand up. I'll be right here beside him.

But even the support that fills this room isn't enough for 16-year-old Glenda Arenas on her first night. When it comes time for her to read the poem she's just written, she hangs her head, her long dark hair, mostly covering her face. Her voice begins, barely audible.

Ode To The Homies. The tree, kicking it. Summer, smooth.

This first night, Glenda can't finish. Another girl comes over, stands by her, and finishes the poem.

Ode to the homie, the tree, kicking it. Summer, smooth. It's all eight-ball. Say eyes, high on weed, 44 Magnum, blow to the head, a scorched rag in the hood, the brightness and the sky showing a flag. Green, white, and red grows into multiplication, sweet and sad.

There's a little poet running around your house, no matter how small he or she is.

Roberto Maestas has directed El Centro for 20 years. He's seen a good number of the 74 children who've spent time in the workshops changed by them. Some are getting better grades, some are being invited to recite poetry at rallies and banquets.

I don't think that poetry itself is going to save the inner cities, but when a young person reads their poetry and other people appreciate their poetry, that begins to build a sense of value, a sense of worth, a sense of somebodiness.

Recently, we had an election for student council, and I didn't really think I'd make it, and I beat everybody by 10 points. It was really amazing.

15-year-old Sandra Martinez says it was in the poetry workshops that she learned to be confident enough to assume that position of leadership.

My name's Sandra Martinez and the poem I'm going to read is "Garibaldi Park in Mexico City".

Blue corazon danced on the stones, cuando la mujer was tocando las musica. On the streets, los gatos laughed, and tonight's the final night.

The poets of El Centro, known as Hope for Youth, now have a book, it's called Words Up. And the kids are getting more and more attention, some even nationally and internationally. Just recently, Hope for Youth received an invitation from the government of Chile to travel there this summer. For Latino USA, I'm Ingrid Lobet in Seattle.

Friday night I was hanging with my boys. We were chilling at this guy, Chino's house, drinking forties while he took care of his kid. I hadn't hung out in a while, so I didn't mind babysitting. But the rest of the guys seemed restless. When I finally asked what was up, they told me that they were expecting a delivery of skis, also known as cocaine. [hip hop music background]

John Guardo, who came to New York City when he was 12 years old, was a member of a crew for most of his teenage life. Crews are what gangs are called in New York City. Now Guardo is trying to leave that life behind. [hip hop music background]

It's hard for me to admit how much drugs have become a part of my life, but they have, and in a big way. The lyrics and the music I hear speak of drugs as a way to become popular or even rich. That idea is reinforced by how drugs are glamorized in the movies. Bad guys living large, selling cocaine, with women around them and money to burn. As a little kid, I fantasized about someday living like them. Walking home from school, I saw that crime did pay. Just like in the movies, the neighborhood dealers had cars, girls, money, and respect. Things I wanted. [hip hop music background]

Time passed by, though, and a pattern became visible. I watched yesterday's big shot dealers become the day's victim, whether they got shot or went to jail. It was always constant. I saw those who came around to buy drugs, deteriorate, transforming from regular people to beggars and criminals with each purchase. In the end, I realized everybody was a victim, that it wasn't worth it, because even if you ain't got nothing to do with drugs you can still be mugged by a crack head or catch a bullet from a dealer's gun. No one will ever really be safe unless this problem is solved. Until then, the only protection there is is to be educated. People like to sell or do drugs because they don't realize what harm they're inflicting on themselves or others. Not knowing leaves a void for curiosity to fill.

Anyway, that Friday, as my friends got high, I chose to ignore what they were doing, numbing myself to their actions. I felt compelled to talk to them, but was afraid they'd start dissing me. Feeling out of place, I went home, got to bed, and fell asleep with a bad feeling. The next day, I woke up to a phone call. One of the guys I was with the night before had OD’ed on cocaine and died of a heart attack. He was 21 years old, and also my friend. I'm John Guardo, speaking for the street.

Bullets, guns, violence, and gangs are a fact of life for an ever-growing number of young people in this country; white, African-American, Asian, and Latino. Many Latino kids know this reality only too well and too early in their lives. John Guardo, who came to New York City when he was only 12 years old, was a member of a crew for most of his teenage life. Crews are what gangs are called in New York City. Now, John Guardo is trying to leave that life behind, but as he tells us in this commentary, leaving his crew may be easier than escaping the violence of the streets.

Bullets, guns, violence, and gangs are a fact of life for an ever-growing number of young people in this country; white, African-American, Asian, and Latino. Many Latino kids know this reality only too well and too early in their lives. John Guardo, who came to New York City when he was only 12 years old, was a member of a crew for most of his teenage life. Crews are what gangs are called in New York City. Now, John Guardo is trying to leave that life behind, but as he tells us in this commentary, leaving his crew may be easier than escaping the violence of the streets.

[Hip hop music]

[Hip hop music]

Having outgrown that lifestyle though, I'm trying to live a regular life working and going to school. Unfortunately, that also means my family's been taken off the untouchables list. We have all become prey to these urban predators. Now, under this new set of rules, what am I to do with this trouble? Call the cops? Huh, no one I know, including myself, would do that in case of an emergency. In my eyes, cops are more interested in filling their quota than in serving their community. Dialing 911 has simply become taboo. At this point, I'm sandwiched between two problems. Number one, I don't trust the police. The only times they've been there for me was to ram flashlights into my skull while cursing me out. If not that, they've stopped me in front of my building to frisk me as my neighbors watch. Number two, if I remain vulnerable for too long, something bad may happen to my loved ones.

Having outgrown that lifestyle though, I'm trying to live a regular life working and going to school. Unfortunately, that also means my family's been taken off the untouchables list. We have all become prey to these urban predators. Now, under this new set of rules, what am I to do with this trouble? Call the cops? Huh, no one I know, including myself, would do that in case of an emergency. In my eyes, cops are more interested in filling their quota than in serving their community. Dialing 911 has simply become taboo. At this point, I'm sandwiched between two problems. Number one, I don't trust the police. The only times they've been there for me was to ram flashlights into my skull while cursing me out. If not that, they've stopped me in front of my building to frisk me as my neighbors watch. Number two, if I remain vulnerable for too long, something bad may happen to my loved ones.

[Hip hop music] Last night, I was speaking to my girl on the phone, telling her how bad things were getting around my block and that I decided to buy a gun. She got mad, raising her voice and asking me, "How could you be that ignorant? You know what would happen if you got caught with one?" I said to her, "Yo, I ain't going to be carrying it around and showing it off. I'm going to keep it at home in case someone tries to break in or mess with my family." She got quiet then. I was searching for a better answer. I realized what a vicious cycle I was willingly getting into. You see, around my neighborhood, things ain't no joke. I'm a former gang member, so I know what dangers roam the streets. Drug dealers, stick-up kids, crackheads, the whole nine, a glance is reason enough to get jumped.

[Hip hop music] Last night, I was speaking to my girl on the phone, telling her how bad things were getting around my block and that I decided to buy a gun. She got mad, raising her voice and asking me, "How could you be that ignorant? You know what would happen if you got caught with one?" I said to her, "Yo, I ain't going to be carrying it around and showing it off. I'm going to keep it at home in case someone tries to break in or mess with my family." She got quiet then. I was searching for a better answer. I realized what a vicious cycle I was willingly getting into. You see, around my neighborhood, things ain't no joke. I'm a former gang member, so I know what dangers roam the streets. Drug dealers, stick-up kids, crackheads, the whole nine, a glance is reason enough to get jumped.

What can I do? I can't join a crew. I just renounced one, but I got to protect myself. So the only thing left for me is to get a gun. Or is it? You see, I really believe, if the cops got their act together, there wouldn't be so much static in the streets. What I mean is, not that we like police presence, but that it doesn't matter if there's cops on every corner when they're going to be there to magnify the distrust we already have for them. Policemen should figure out who the real criminals are. I know. And go after them instead of treating all of us like such. They're the ones who have to change since the problems of the street are always going to be there. There's always going to be crime and we need protection.

What can I do? I can't join a crew. I just renounced one, but I got to protect myself. So the only thing left for me is to get a gun. Or is it? You see, I really believe, if the cops got their act together, there wouldn't be so much static in the streets. What I mean is, not that we like police presence, but that it doesn't matter if there's cops on every corner when they're going to be there to magnify the distrust we already have for them. Policemen should figure out who the real criminals are. I know. And go after them instead of treating all of us like such. They're the ones who have to change since the problems of the street are always going to be there. There's always going to be crime and we need protection.

These issues may be the bigger picture, but I'm still unable to answer my girl. Every day I have to deal with these problems. And although I may forget about them, what worries me is that it might be one of my friends who falls into the cycle and goes out to buy the nine. In street slang, that's a nine-millimeter handgun. I'm John Guardo, speaking for the street.

These issues may be the bigger picture, but I'm still unable to answer my girl. Every day I have to deal with these problems. And although I may forget about them, what worries me is that it might be one of my friends who falls into the cycle and goes out to buy the nine. In street slang, that's a nine-millimeter handgun. I'm John Guardo, speaking for the street.

The recent murder of a Roman Catholic cardinal in Guadalajara, Mexico is being linked to a gang in San Diego. Law enforcement officials say at least six members of the Calle Treinta gang were the hired killers for a Tijuana drug cartel led by the Ramon Arellano family. From San Diego, Marie Araña has more.

Cardinal Juan Jesus Posadas Ocampo and six other persons were accidentally killed when gunmen hired by a Tijuana drug cartel mistakenly opened fire on the cardinal's limousine. Law enforcement officials say that members of the Calle Treinta gang were hired by the Arellano brothers to kill a rival drug lord, Joaquin Chapo Guzman. Guzman was believed to be the target when Cardinal Posadas was shot last May 24th. For Latino USA, I'm Marie Araña in San Diego.

Esperanza, or hope. It's said, that's one thing young people living in this day and age, often lack. But in San Antonio, Texas, a group of teenagers is creating theater that expresses a measure of hope for the future. Even amidst a reality of drugs, gangs, identity questions, and homelessness. Along with Lucy Edwards Latino USA's, Maria Martin prepared this report.

[Natural sounds, theater] Grupo Animo

It's the Friday afternoon at Fox Technical High School in San Antonio. The young members of the acting troupe El Grupo Animo, ages 13 to 18, have come together to start rehearsing their new production. The group's name derives from the Spanish word meaning spirit, energy, and a desire to inspire and the drama they're preparing is written and performed by the kids themselves.

[Natural sounds, theater] All the young women in the piece, over here.

Identity. [Natural sounds, theater]

The drama in production is called, "I Have Hopes, Hopes I Keep Sacred in My Soul." It's a series of vignettes, tales of young people, much like the members of El Grupo Animo, facing life's challenges and learning to cope.

It's about a young girl who gets pregnant and she has to tell her parents because both of us know so many girls who have already gotten pregnant and it's not looking better or anything.

I'm 17 years old, and I wrote about the homeless. So much we can learn from our people. They've gone through rough times, and by that, a lot of them are on the streets, and we don't even care about them.

I decided to bring up the issue of teenage homosexuality, because Hispanic, Mexican American families, it's harder for them to deal with it. There's a lot of tradition, and a lot of the tradition is built around the male role model and female role model, you know?

14-year-old Michaela Diaz, along with Guadalupe Covera and Victoria Rivera, are among the nine playwrights who make up El Grupo Animo. 16 year old Priscilla Valle wrote about a young gang member.

He's dealing with the pressures of being tied to his gang, but then wanting to get out and be free and lead the life that he wants to lead, that the gang doesn't allow him to.

You don't understand, what if they come after me? Babe, they know where I live.

They're tearing you apart. They mess around with people's lives like it's nothing. You can't be afraid to be who you are. Don't keep it down forever. I hate them!

It's really a lot of what's going on in their minds and in their lives, but they never have a place to talk about it.

Director George Emilio Sanchez of New York is working with the young playwrights and actors of El Grupo Animo.

It takes a lot of courage to be a young person. It takes a hell of a lot of courage to say, "Yeah, I'm young. I don't know everything, and I want to be alive." Boom. That to me is like heroic. I think individually, if you read the things they write, no, I don't think they have a lot of hope.

But still, say the kids, their stories do express hope as the title of their collective work indicates.

Even though we are, we're sad and depressed about it. I think there's always that bright side and that hope that we have, and that's just what the whole play is about.

That's why I think that the name of it, "I Have Hopes, Hopes I Keep Sacred in My Soul", is what we're using. They're not all happy plays with happy endings, but we're not trying to say that the whole world is terrible. You know, that everything's terrible, that there's no hope for anything. Even though we know what reality is, we still feel that there can be a change, that there will be a change, and if anybody, we'll be the ones who will do that. And that's our message, basically.

El Grupo Animo’s production of "I Have Hopes, Hopes I Keep Sacred in My Soul," runs through July 17th at San Antonio's Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center. The Center's theater director, Jorge Pina, calls the troupe the next generation of Chicano Teatristas.For Latino USA with Lucy Edwards in San Antonio, I'm Maria Martin.

Pope John Paul II made his first visit to the United States since 1987. The pontiff along with 170,000 Catholics from around the world came to celebrate World Youth Day. A commemoration of Catholicism and religious worship. American Catholic clergy are hoping that as a result of the fanfare, traditionally Catholic Latino communities will renew their interest in the church. But as Ancel Martinez reports from Denver, many Catholic parishes are confronted with apathy and a church parishioners feel is sometimes too conservative.

[Church Bells]

One parish that wants to avoid the image of state Catholicism in apathy among Catholics is our Lady of Guadalupe. It's Adobe and Brick colonial style church and courtyard is just across the railroad tracks from Denver’s sleek office buildings. The pastor just ended a three-week fast to protest gangs that dominate summer street life around here. Our Lady Guadalupe is housing, hundreds of pilgrims celebrating World Youth Day. Church Deacon Alfonso Sandoval says for Mexican Americans it should be a time for reflection.

If anything, like I say, part of their culture is their faith in going to church. I think that the presence of the Holy Father is going to be significant for the youth in the sense that they were starting to drift away, not attending mass and not attending sacraments wasn't important for them, it just was not a priority. There's a lot of other priorities going on in their lives, but with this visit, I think it'll help a lot of them just take stock of what their faith's really all about.

The Pope chose Denver as the biannual World Youth Day site because it's a relatively young city and its Hispanic population represents the fastest growing segment of the church in America. But the nearly all Anglo national conference of Catholic bishops only grasped in the 1980s how important Latinos are to the survival of the American church. Father Lorenzo Ruiz works these streets reaching out to Chicanos and Latin American immigrants.

This is an area where the American church, the Anglo-American church and the Hispanic church met. The American church took over this area and again, they were not sensitized or aware of the church already existing here, totally unaware of the fact that there was a church here and people with a different culture and different values and a different way of expressing wonderful and beautiful Catholicism.

When Mexican Americans were ignored, that's when the separations began with the traditional Catholic Church, such as the new Mexican set known as the Penitentes decades ago. And even today, evangelical churches are making inroads to a once all Catholic culture.

[Church music and signing]

The Church of Christ Elam holds thrice weekly services in the basement of the circa 1900s Methodist church in the center of Denver's Latino neighborhood. Furnishings are minimal, fold up chairs, linoleum floor, and a small stage, several teenagers sing, a few dozen followers wave their hands and clutch Bibles, Pastor Manuel Alvarez, explains Catholicism simply isn't spiritual enough for many, so they seek other faiths.

They found something that is not a religious but a new experience with God when they can talk to God and have a relationship with God, not with religious or not with that organization, but a special relationship with Jesus Christ.

The Vatican is now paying special attention to Latinos in the United States because in part of their support of conservative issues like the ban on women serving as priest and opposition to artificial birth control and abortion, but there are even schisms among Latinos. Sister Irene Muñoz works for the Denver Catholic Archdiocese Hispanic outreach program.

I know women are speaking out and saying we want a fuller role in the church in many ways, and I truly see that. I truly believe that women are called to do more than perhaps what we're doing. And I know there are many of our sisters, my sisters that are called even more into become ordained priest and they were saying, look at us, listen to us.

The challenges facing the church in its quest to resolve these issues as well as retain Catholic Hispanics will remain long after the excitement of the pope's visit to Colorado in this continent subsides. For Latino USA I'm Ancel Martinez in Denver.

While the media debates the pros and cons of immigration and pollsters measure growing anti-immigrant sentiment, it's somewhat harder to measure how immigrants feel about the ongoing debate. So Latino USA went to commentator, John Guardo, who came to this country from Colombia as a young boy to get his views on the controversy.

Yo, you want to know what really burns me up? It's when I hear people talk about minorities and immigrants like we are subhuman. It's those same people who think it's our fault when bad things happen in our neighborhoods. What they don't realize is that our communities are the ones abandoned by the authorities and left to decay. To set the record straight, let me tell you a story. There once was a kid, a smart kid, who came to this country not to freeload or abuse the opportunities America had to offer, but for a more basic reason. To live with his mom. You see, earlier in his life, his parents had separated. Pops was an alcoholic who had made a habit out of beating up mom. Mom was a teenager, who after the separation, moved to the US, leaving the kid behind, sacrificing it all for a shot at a better life. Finally, time allowed for mother and son to reunite in New York City.

This story should have ended with them living happily ever after. Unfortunately, this is the real world and it didn't happen that way. I am that kid. When I put my foot on the plane, I knew it was the start of a new life. I look forward to visiting Disneyland and the Empire State Building. I had a lot of aspirations. Catching a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty just before landing gave me confidence. It reassured me that I was finally free from the family violence I left back home. But had I really escaped violence entirely? For the first few weeks after I came to this country, life was good. Living in postcard New York was how I thought it would be. That all ended when my mom ran out of places to take me and I had to face it all on my own. Armed with only intellect and friendliness, I stepped into society only to face a seemingly indestructible enemy. Prejudice.

Being nice didn't keep me from getting beat up. Being smart didn't mean anything if no one would listen. But being punched for not knowing English, that was the last straw. From then on, respect became more important than anything and the streets became my school. My mother, on the other hand, worked incessantly, pushed to exhaustion by a dream of seeing her son wear a graduation gown. Sometimes, I felt like telling her how many obstacles I was facing as a new immigrant and just because of being myself, but that would've disillusioned her and she didn't deserve that. When I turned 15, I joined a gang. It seemed like the only way out of my situation. It was like a passport to a regular life, free from being pursued by hate I didn't understand. With size came strengths, and all our voices fused into one that was heard and respected. Now, through violence, I had earned the right to be.

Being young at that time though, I was more inclined to the social aspects of gang life. Being with girls, drinking with the guys, and wilding. Walking down that path landed me in jail a couple of times, turning me into a stereotype, just another statistic. I admit that my sense of responsibility decreased by being in a gang. Instead of hanging out, I could have been studying. But that lost time was replaced by a sense of security. The acceptance given to me by my crew filled up the hole created by being rejected during my first months here. Belonging to a gang fulfilled me, but as time passed, I realized this wasn't the way either. Now that I've been here for almost 10 years, I look at other young kids who have just arrived to this country and see myself. It's a shame that a person whose only intention is to come here and do better is welcomed by prejudice, greed, and racism.

This country was built on immigration. Why is it then? And some people claim to have more rights than others. Is it a seniority thing or a freedom thing? You see, I believe if there was some sort of structure or orientation to guide immigrants when they arrive here, those who are new to this country would be able to avoid certain obstacles. Like the ones I had to confront. A good start would be an expansion in the English as a second language program to make it available to everybody, students and adults alike. Not knowing how to speak English is a problem that leads to others like difficulty in finding a job or being a target for discrimination. America is a beautiful country, full of promise and opportunity for everyone. Immigrants included. Too bad, there are those out there who tarnish its beauty with ignorance. I am John Guardo, speaking for the street.

A wave of drive-by shootings has tapered off. In Los Angeles. Authorities say street gangs have been ordered to stop the shootings by members of the so-called Mexican Mafia Prison Gang. Reports say the Mexican Mafia has held several secret meetings with Latino gang members, telling them to stop the violent drive-bys, which often cause death or injury to innocent bystanders. This is news from Latino USA.

What does it mean to you to be in a gang? Why are you in a gang?

Why am I in a gang?

Yes ma'am.

Cause well, ever since I was little, I've always been on my own. Ever since I was young, my parents-

Where are your parents?

They're in jail. My parents are in jail. My mom was 14 when she had me and my dad was 18. And they're in jail right now. They're doing life.

[Chicano Rap Beat]

In Los Angeles, an organization known as the Mexican Mafia is being given credit for an apparent decrease in the number of gang related drive-by shootings. Reportedly, members of that group, which had its origins in California's prisons have been meeting with Latino gangs throughout the city, calling for a halt to the violence, which has killed a growing number of innocent bystanders in Los Angeles. Some, including law enforcement officials, have criticized the involvement of the Mexican mafia, also known as La eMe. But community activist Javier Rodriguez, whose life has been personally touched by gang violence, says that before this effort is condemned, one should understand what it says about our society.

Skeptics have quickly dismissed this radical move by the Mexican mafia. The reputed prison spawned organization from California, also known as La eMe Spanish phonetic for ‘M’. They point out possible ulterior criminal motives. They may be right. Paradoxically however, the move has struck a positive cord among many community people who see the intervention as a ray of light in a seemingly endless tunnel of fear and violence. That our community may see this development with favor, should not surprise anyone. The move with all its limitations addresses the most immediate fear of those who live in terror in our community. The fear of the reckless killing of innocent bystanders, children and the elderly by wanting reckless gangsters who make our barrios their battle war zones. La eMe is only filling a void in leadership that has been unable to halt the rapidly rising spiral of gang shootings. Any move to reject La eMe's call or its benefits are irresponsible and places our community in a catch 22. Especially when the move appears to be affecting a significant portion of the Latino gangs in Southern California.

There appears to be a dramatic reduction in drive-by shootings in the eastern part of the County of Los Angeles. There is also evidence that because of La eMe's efforts, gang members are safely crossing through other gang turfs without fear of retaliation. La eMe is using a message of appealing to the pride and respect for La Raza, the Mexican people. However, it is also combined with a threat of reprisal to all those that violate the truths. It is yes, a limited call to halt the violence, denouncing drive-bys as a cowardly act of battle. It doesn't call for the end of killings or of gangs and their principles. However, that may be the source of its success. If the effort fails, it may not be because of its own limitations or because it came from the wrong elements. It will be because we as a society failed. In the end, La eMe's efforts and others like it will fail unless we begin to address the root causes of crime, gang banging and drive-bys. That is poverty, racism, and injustice. After all, let's not forget that gang proliferation and drive-bys have been concurring with [unintelligible] and its opposite. The concentration of wealth in the hands of the few during all these years of neoliberal economic policies.

[Chile sin carne--Flor de caña]

Javier Rodriguez is a community activist and media consultant in Los Angeles. His son was killed in a gang-related incident.

From the barrios of the southwest to the gang turfs and immigrant enclaves of the inner cities to middle class Latino neighborhoods from Kansas to Washington state, drug and alcohol abuse are a troubling part of everyday life for many people. To better deal with this reality, Latino social workers who specialize in substance abuse recently came together in Denver. Ancel Martinez reports they're forming a new network called HART, Hispanic Addictions Resources and Training

[Background--Natural Sounds--University Campus] On the manicured campus of the University of Denver there's no hint of the troubles of South Central Los Angeles, the barrios of El Paso or the gang turf of West Denver. Yet the 200 people who have come here to attend seminars must return to those areas with strategies on how to address increasing social problems among immigrants as well as US born Latinos. Paul Cardenas, who specializes in alcohol abuse, co-founded the nationwide group called Hispanic Addictions Resource Training, also known as HART. Because, he argues, not only do Latinos have different needs than Anglos, but their numbers cannot be ignored.

[background sounds cont.] The Hispanic community is growing. In the last 10 years, we've doubled in size. By the year 2020, we will probably be one out of every four individuals in the entire United States. So there's a great economic force that we're all going to have to cope with whether we know it or not, whether we're prepared for it or not.

[bg sound cont.]The symposium was designed to address the myriad of issues facing Latinos. One problem begins here. [Microphone noise] There are not many Latinos in social work. For instance, hundreds finished Denver University's graduate school of social work every year, but only a handful are Hispanic Americans. HART wants more minorities to enter the field. Another problem arises when Latino professionals apply for government grants. There's little information on alcoholism or drug abuse among Hispanics. So justifying grants, say for aiding Latinas, is difficult. So the goal for many is tailoring programs for those they serve.

[bg sound] Women from El Salvador, from Puerto Rico, from Mexico, and they're like so separated because they don't know a thing about one another.

[bg sound] Mary Santos is a program director for the Boyle Heights Family Recovery Center in Los Angeles who works with the growing Central American population,

And I must educate them to share their cultures so that we can find the similarities so that we can get on with the process of recovery. I believe 98% of Hispanic women have a lot of core issues such as sexual abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism. It might not have just started with them, there's a history of alcoholism or chemical dependency, so to speak, that that has been embedded in the family.

[bg sound] Besides organizing comprehensive treatments, much work remains in the area of intervention before people become addicted to violence or drugs. David Flores, an LA-based gang counselor, warns society needs to offer treatment and not simply jail time for risk-prone youth. Flores has spent years documenting gang life in Southern California.

[bg sound] The number of gangs are continuing to grow. The number of kids getting involved in gangs are also growing, and what's kind of scary is that we're seeing the development of new gangs, which will probably dramatically add to the membership unless we intervene and do something about it like right away.

[bg sound] What are the differences between those new gangs and established gangs?

[bg sound] Well, the majority of the new gangs are really tagger/bangers, what we call tagger/bangers or kids who are tagging, then forming groups that tag as a group or a set and then become an actual gang. So we're seeing a significant increase in taggers, which will then add to the number of gang members that we will see in the future.

[bg sound] Flores workshop on how street gangs get a boost from young blood was one of the best attended during the three day symposium. Every workshop stressed the need, that the 3,800 members of HART from across the country need to map out their strategies on say how traditional spiritualism and Chicano or Caribbean cultures is part of the healing process. Or how non-profit agencies can stabilize a community confronted by low wages. By forming a nationwide group HART members say they're dedicated to changing what medical and social services will be available to Hispanic Americans for years to come. For Latino USA, I'm Ancel Martinez in Denver.

A much publicized gang summit recently wrapped up in Chicago. One theme of that gathering was unity between Blacks and browns. But as Tony Sarabia reports from Chicago, few Latino gang members took part.

According to summit organizers, the meeting was an effort to persuade gangs to make peace among themselves and in the neighborhoods they dominate, something critics say isn't possible. But Latino gangs made only a few appearances at the summit. Juan Rangel of United Neighborhood Organization, a social service agency in one of Chicago's Latino communities, says, "While the summit was more or less a publicity stunt, it still would've been helpful to formally include Latino gangs."

With anything, I think that you would try to include as many of the people that are involved, knowing that there are Hispanic gangs out in the neighborhoods that are having an impact, or negative impact, on our communities. We would have hoped to see their involvement, if anything, positive was going to come out of this.

Rangel also says it's important for Latino gangs to work for peace with their African American counterparts. But he says, "None of these efforts will work if all the gangs don't give up their guns or drug trade." For Latino USA, I'm Tony Sarabia in Chicago.