Calafia Issue 2

Calafia

No. 2, Spring 2015

Young People Expanding the California Narrative

Police Violence: Not Just an Urban Issue Also Inside: E-Cig Dealer Confesses

Clean, Clear Water

Child Protective Services Turns its Back

Calafia No. 2 Spring 2015 Published by Pacific News Service dba New America Media Editor Peter Schurmann Local Editors Steve Thao, Fresno Malcolm Marshall, Richmond Reyna Olaguez, Bakersfield Andres Reyes, Merced Amber Amaya, Coachella Michelle Zenarosa, Long Beach Copy Editor Honora Montano Art Director Allen Meyer YouthWire Collective Coachella Unincorporated Richmond Pulse South Kern Sol The Know We’Ced VoiceWaves Contributing Media Partner Boyle Heights Beat Redwood Voice NEW AMERICA MEDIA Founder & CEO Sandy Close Chief Financial Officer Maria Alvarez NAM EDITORIAL & ADMINISTRATIVE HQ: 209 Ninth Street, 2nd floor San Francisco, CA 94103 FEEDBACK & INQUIRIES: Phone: 415-503-4170 ext. 200 Email: pschurmann@newamericamedia.org

Cover photo: Isaac Aquirre, 8, and Jeremiah Castillo, 12, at the #BlackLivesMatter protest in Merced, Calif., December, 2014.

Photo by Mark Chalico

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he name Ferguson is now indelibly linked to police violence –and the movement to end it. Yet while national media coverage has largely framed the issue in black and white, the spectrum is much broader—as young people in California’s rural, largely Latino heartland know.

David Silva was a father of four. In 2013, four white sheriff deputies in downtown Bakersfield beat him to death. In Santa Rosa that same year, officers shot and killed 13-yearold Andy Lopez who was armed with an airsoft gun. The fear within these communities – mostly poor, rural and largely immigrant – was palpable. Many were too afraid to speak out.

“Generally, people who are Mexican or just not American are treated worse than animals, in jail, in the street, wherever,” a Bakersfield resident speaking anonymously told Univision soon after Silva’s death.

The silence has broken, at least for now. The protests that erupted in the Missouri suburb where Michael Brown was gunned down quickly spread across America. #BlackLivesMatter became a call to action that is resonating not just in California’s major cities but in its smaller towns and farming communities.

This second issue of Calafia explores what residents and local law enforcement agencies are doing to address the issue of police violence, both at home and abroad. We hear from young people from across the Central Valley about the state of police-community relations in their neighborhoods, and from a member of the Fresno Police Department about his role as a youth liaison office. Our feature story highlights the success of the Richmond Police Department in rebuilding trust in that city.

Water, or the lack of it, is another issue on young people’s minds, and nowhere is the drought felt more acutely than in California’s valleys. In “Eulogy for Lake Success,” we read about childhood memories of a disappearing lake. And in Coachella, of efforts to secure tap water that isn’t tainted by arsenic.

Calafia is the print edition of YouthWire.org, which is a “best of ” compendium of writing and reporting from youth-led community media hubs across California, operating under the umbrella of New America Media. Through journalism, these hubs engage young people around issues directly impacting their communities and themselves.

In telling their stories, which are our stories, what emerges is a powerful optimism grounded not in youthful naivete but in actual lived experience…and the determination to turn challenge into opportunity.

Peter Schurmann Editor

Police Relations 4 - 10

Health 11 - 12

Environment 14 - 15

coachellaunincorporated.org

theknowfresno.org

richmondpulse.org

southkernsol.org

voicewaves.org

wecedyouth.org

Community Health 16 - 20

Immigration 21 - 23 YOUTHWIRE.ORG

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Richmond Chief of Police Chris Magnus joins protestors during a Dec. 2014 rally against police violence. Photo by David Meza, Richmond Pulse

A Model for Police Reform Brett Murphy / Richmond Pulse

Editor’s Note: In the past decade, the police department in Richmond, Calif. has undergone a dramatic transformation. Spearheaded by an openly-gay, white chief in charge of policing this largely African American and Latino city, the changes are now bearing fruit, with crime down and trust between officers and the residents they are meant to protect on the rise. As departments nationwide look for ways to improve community ties in the wake of police killings in Ferguson and New York, Richmond stands as a promising template.

Richmond’s police department is undergoing something of a renaissance these days, thanks in part to decades of reform that have moved the department from its longstanding enforcementdriven model to one that focuses more on building trust with the public.

That transformation was thrust into the spotlight in December when an image of Chris Magnus, Richmond’s white, openly gay police chief, went viral, stirring a national response.

In the image, Magnus is seen holding a “#BlackLivesMatter” sign while in full uniform at a demonstration against police brutality.

The demonstration followed the acquittal of a white police officer in the killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

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Magnus’ nine-year tenure is marked with like gestures: an extended hand to residents, viewed as enlightened by some and controversial by others.

“But the biggest challenge,” Magnus says, “has been changing the perception black community members [have toward police], those who had experienced a legacy of mistrust.”

That fraught legacy goes back decades, to the rough and tumble 1980s when “the cowboys” – a notorious, roving squad of undercover narcotics agents – were regularly accused of brutality, and more recently to the early part of the 1990s, when the city saw record homicides.

More than two decades, and a handful of police chiefs later, crime still racked Richmond when Magnus came on board. In 2005, a year before Magnus took over, there were 40 homicides.

“When I got here we were dealing with an extraordinarily high murder rate, off the charts,” Magnus says. “Officers were just crisis managers, moving from one hot call to the next.”

Department shake-ups Along with the high crime rate, inner-department crisis and dissent greeted the new chief. He took the reins after a series

of stagnant interim chiefs, save for the progressive, but short-lived tenure of Chief William Lansdowne in the 90s.

Other people wanted change in the past, Magnus says, but the culture of distrust and aggressive policing was too divisive.

Early on, seven African-American officers accused him of racial harassment and discrimination in a civil lawsuit. Part of the allegation was that Magnus had blocked the promotions of black officers.

The chief argued that he was dissolving the departmental “buddy system” that rewarded officers’ connections and seniority, instead of merit and performance. Magnus was acquitted in 2012.

Richmond Police Capt. Mark Gagan says these early shake-ups and “unflinching discipline” were not merely a show of force.

Since he took over, Magnus has demoted and fired more officers than two decades of previous chiefs combined, while increasing the size of the force from 155 to more than 195 officers.

One of Magnus’ f irst steps was to decentralize the chain of command.

Captains and other middle management positions were given more responsibility.

For example, if a robbery occurs in the middle of the night, that sector’s captain will hear about it first, then coordinate officers and call community members in

“Cops are pragmatic,” Magnus notes.

“They want to be viewed as partners in the community, not adversaries.” An ever-present f ixture at city meetings, neighborhood events a nd volunteer opportunities—jeans dirty, shovel in hand—the chief has led the movement by example.

That work appears to be paying off.

In the past few years, following a crime, or suspicious activity, tips and witnesses come forward more so than ever, Magnus explains. There’s also been a significant drop in overall crime.

According to Richmond crime data, total crime has fallen from 8,168 in 2004 to 5,961 in 2013, while total arrests (adult and juvenile) have gone down from 3,532 in 2005 to 2,705 in 2014.

Richmond also saw a record-low of 11 homicides last year.

A new approach

Community policing, formerly a specialized tactic taught to a handful of officers, has become the mandated status quo in Richmond. Gagan says Richmond is one of a few departments in the Bay Area to implement a “true geographic deployment.”

Meaning, officers are assigned permanent beats and can’t choose new ones each year, as was the case in the past.

Beat cops attend neighborhood council meetings in their coverage areas. They get out of their cruisers to walk around and meet people, building two-way rapport.

Sometimes they’ll even give out their cellphone numbers.

S erg io R io s , V i c e President of the 23rd Street Mercha nts Association, says prostitution a long 2 3 r d s t r e e t ’s b u s y business corridor dropped significantly when Officer Ye s e n i a R o g e r s m a d e herself regularly present and available to business Officer Brandon Ruffin chats with a group of locals barbecuing in owners two years ago. “I the Veteran’s Memorial Hall parking lot. (Photo by Martin Totland, can just call her whenever I courtesy of Richmond Confidential) see something,” he said.

To gain trust in neighborhoods, the area—often driving to the scene, too.

RPD has also shifted from old-school Prior to Magnus, the sector captain might force to preventative policing. “Verbal denot have found out about the crime until escalating” has made handcuffs, batons, the next afternoon. and guns less and less necessary.

Magnus says even if just one officer This isn’t just the “technique and can break through and form a bond with tactics” you learn in the police academy, a neighborhood, it’s a victory for the Magnus says. “[My officers] need to learn department.

“ My officers need to learn how to talk to people and be problem solvers.”

how to talk to people and be problem solvers.”

Gagan and Magnus say citizen-led, anti-crime organizations, like Ceasefire and the Office of Neighborhood Safety, contribute significantly to the improved situation.

Bennie Lois Singleton, a volunteer with Ceasefire, says years ago she was afraid to even drive down Macdonald Avenue after witnessing shootouts in Nevin Park. Nowadays, she regularly walks the route without trepidation.

“This is all because the community started interacting with police, and vice versa,” says Singleton, a longtime Richmond resident.

“I’ve never been so comfortable with police,” she adds. “It’s like everything else, when you get to know a person, you look at them differently.”

B ob bi e A m o s , a c on st r u c t ion business owner who grew up in Richmond, recently walked into the RPD building on Regatta Boulevard and had a 30-minute sit- down with Magnus and Gagan— resident to badge. “I just wanted to meet them and say that we appreciate what can be a pretty thankless job,” Amos says. “We need to have relationships with the police.”

The chief a lso introduced new technology to help with accountability. Body cameras, vehicle monitoring, and the “blue team” personal monitoring system have been key in holding officers accountable.

These new, real-time strategies help watch commanders maintain everything, save a direct eye on beat officers. Interactions with residents, complaint histories, and even cruiser speeds are closely monitored and digitally documented.

“Now there are real consequences for bad behavior, bad police,” Magnus says. Consequences can come in the form of special training, missed promotions, demotions and even terminations. More often though, the chief says he chooses positive reinforcement to “get people to do their jobs in a new and better way.”

Along with new technology, the department has implemented new rules for dea ling with missteps. In-house i nvestigations, li ke the one a round last year’s off icer-involved-shooting, a corruption-related firing, and a marijuana cache found in another officer’s house, are made public.

“We’re transparent and proactive in dealing with bad behavior,” the chief says.

“People [in the department] don’t want to Continued on page 21

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Police Relations – Not Just a Editor’s Note: Responding to protests over police violence, President Obama in November noted that “simmering distrust” of law enforcement is not unique to Ferguson, where police shot and killed unarmed black teenager Michael Brown, but present in communities of color across the nation. Calafia asked youth reporters in rural, predominantly Latino, areas of California to survey people in their community about how they perceive local law enforcement.

“ My r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h l o c a l l a w enforcement is less than decent. They can be overly aggressive, but mostly they

are just disconnected [ from] our community. There are some of them that

are very pleasant to have around, but that kind of situation isn’t the norm.”

Ivan Valenzuela, 22, Indio

“In my community of Coachella, I believe our relationship with law enforcement is very good. We rely on our law enforcement to protect us, and we trust them to do so.

Never once have I been afraid to rely on a police officer for aid.”

Johnny Flores, 17, Coachella

“I don’t think our local law enforcement is particularly racist, but I don’t think they always deliver justice when we need it. Calling law enforcement is

someone’s last resort here, not their first option. I can trust the police to a certain point, but I wouldn’t trust them if they pulled me over. One of my friends who is a young Hispanic man ... a cop pulled him over [and] told him his back light was out, but when he went home the light was working fine.”

Victoria Contreras, 17, Coachella

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“ I b el ieve my com mun it y ne eds to reestablish the importance of respecting local [law] enforcement. In my experience, my family has needed their help, and we’ve had the police help us as much as possible.

Law enforcement ’s credibility in my community depends on whether different people in the community believe the police are doing their job.”

Karla Martinez, 16, Coachella

“ I think that there’s a lot of distrust.

Just from what youth share of their experiences in the community, and even adults, like community residents, they

are criminalized or stereotyped by the way they look. In the immigrant

community here, that distrust is definitely there … in terms of seeing the police department as something that is supposed to protect and serve the community. I know local law enforcement is making an effort to change that, but it’s still the dominant view of them.”

Jocelyn Vargas, 29, Indio

Black, Urban Issue

“My community distrusts the police and law enforcement, which has failed to become more diverse and culturally competent and has not pushed hard enough to engage the community. In order to peacefully coexist and bridge this unfortunate gap there must

be a mutual level of understanding and efforts on both sides to end tension. Unfortunately, both community

and police see each other as threats and continue to alienate each other.”

Claudia Gonzales, 28, Winton

“Personally, I have never had an issue with the police. I’ve been to a few protests and they kept their distance in a way that indicated trust and respect but also caution in case something occurred. I believe that’s the way relationships between the community and the police should be.”

Miguel Garcia, 20, Merced

“Here in Merced I witnessed a guy get beat up and thrown in the back of a police car. He was a homeless man and he’d asked another homeless woman for a cigarette and the woman started screaming as a police officer drove by. The police officer beat the guy for nothing. I definitely wouldn’t

mess with the police around here

after seeing that.”

Enrique Serrato, 42, Merced

You see a cop, you do whatever you can to avoid them. A friend at work, Chris

“The community fears the police.

Silva, his brother David was killed by 9 officers and they didn’t press charges. If nine of us got together to beat someone up to death, we’d all be rotting in jail right now. But the sheriffs? They’re free to walk around and live their lives. There are so many who are so scared they won’t look the cops in the eye much less stand up to them. I don’t want to say ... all cops are bad.

I don’t think that. But it’s getting harder and harder.”

Gracie Perez, 18, Bakersfield

“I haven’t experienced many problems f irst hand with the police in Merced.

They seem like most cops, arrogant, eager to bust people for nothing and generally very rude. A friend

of mine was pulled over for not wearing a seatbelt, but then the cop swore he smelled marijuana and ended up searching the entire vehicle only to find there were absolutely no drugs in the car. He just felt like abusing his power because he knew he can get away with it.”

Angel Sanchez, 20, Merced

“Here locally and across the country in general I do feel that we don’t have such a good relationship with police officers. We

all just feel like we can’t trust them because they are out to get us and not to protect us.”

Ashley Ruiz, 17, Bakersfield In t e r v i e w s w e re c o n d u c t e d b y y o u t h reporters from South Kern Sol, Coachella Unincorporated and WeCed Youth Media.

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Why Community Leaders Are Concerned About Police Messaging On Prop. 47 Michael Lozano / VoiceWaves

C

ompton resident Cherlleen Poe, 54, received a felony conviction for drug possession in her late 30’s, and since has faced trouble finding a job that pays well enough to find a decent place to live. She cycled on and off the street, and on and off drugs.

Poe is one of the many Californians who will benefit from Proposition 47, a landmark law that was passed in November that aims to ease California’s overcrowded prison system by reclassifying certain non-violent felonies as misdemeanors.

This allows inmates to petition for shorter sentences and people who were convicted for those non-violent crimes as felons to petition to change their records.

Ten thousand to 20,000 inmates are now eligible to apply for reduced sentencing and may be released, according to A New Way of Life Reentry Project. In addition, two million Californians, including Poe, can apply to reclassify their felony status to a misdemeanor.

All 33 prisons in the state are at or over-capacity, leaving more than 15,000 inmates in conditions deemed cruel and unsafe by the U.S. Supreme Court in 2011. “ W it h P rop. 47 goi ng i nto implementation… it means a great deal,” said Poe, who has been off drugs for seven years. “Now I feel as though I can do something… I can enter society [while] looking for a job.”

But a number of Long Beach residents say they are concerned about comments by local police off icers at community meetings. According to meeting attendees, police off icers have attributed upticks in crime and drug usage to those being released from prison as a result of Prop. 47.

Laura Merryf ield, a community o r g a n i z e r w it h B u i l d i n g H e a lt hy Communities, said she has heard police officers speak about the “ills” of Proposition 47 at six different community meetings.

She said the narrative tends to be the same: officers say they may find a person using “crack in an alley” or using meth in the street, but can’t do anything more than

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give a ticket because of the proposition.

T h e m e s s a g e h a s m a d e s om e residents more fearful. “ ‘ W hy wou ld p e ople vot e for that? That’s crazy!’” Merryf ield said, paraphrasing some community members’ reactions.

Prop. 47 advocates like Merryfield argue that the release of inmates under Prop. 47 has been too slow to cause any spikes in crime. And while warnings at community meetings tell otherwise, L.A. County Assistant Sheriff Michael Rothans also said it was too soon to gauge the effects of the law.

About 2,923 non-violent offenders have been released from prison under Prop. 47 as of early March, according to

narrative is misleading.

“If we perpetuate fear, we continue to have a population that supports mass incarceration,” Merryfield said. “[Police are] suggesting more people are getting out and creating harm in our communities.

We have to remember the Prop. 47 crimes are not violent crimes.”

Local Prop. 47 advocates worry that spreading fear could change the way people, especially in the Spanish-speaking community, feel about the law.

“Cops shouldn’t be spreading onesided, extreme examples of Prop. 47,” said Jan Andasan, 24, an organizer with East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice. He said he has heard the same narrative from police off icers at many meetings since December. “[Prop. 47] reduces the overcrowded prison system and give[s] people a second chance,” Merryf ield said. “Ultimately, we’re starting to attack the system and institutional racism.”

“If we perpetuate fear, we continue to have a population that supports mass incarceration” the Huffington Post.

The Long Beach Police Off icers’ Association endorsed the anti-Prop. 47 effort. City Prosecutor Doug Haubert published an editorial soon after the proposition passed, arguing that it “could cause crime to spike.”

L o n g B e a c h We s t D i v i s i o n Commander Robert Smith says there is no formal campaign by LBPD to undermine Prop. 47, and that instead this commentary is coming from individual officers.

“There’s no orchestrated effort by the police department to share information on Prop. 47 with the community,” he said.

Smith said there might have been some confusion on what the proposition meant for law enforcement, adding that he “could see some of our personnel saying there could be drug offenses that were cited versus arrests.”

The LBPD recently released training bulletins that teach officers how to handle non-violent crimes cited in the new law.

Whether it is an orchestrated effort or not, community leaders argue that this

African Americans make up 29 percent of Ca li fornia’s ma le inmate population, and Latinos make up 41 percent, according to the Public Policy Institute of California. Only 6.6 percent of California’s total population is African American, and 38.4 percent is Latino, according to 2013 Census data.

The law will use the estimated $100 million to $200 million in savings from fewer incarcerations on K-12 student dropout reductions, victims’ services, and drug and mental health services designed to keep people out of prison.

Ayotzinapa, Mexico’s Ferguson Alfredo Camacho / South Kern Sol

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solidarity with Mexico protestors for the disappeared students. s nationwide protests erupted last year over the police “We are all human beings, we ought to all support each shooting of unarmed black teenager Michael Brown other no matter where [these things] happen,” said Guzman. “It in Ferguson, Missouri, another protest movement happened in Mexico, but it could have happened anywhere, here swept through immigrant Latino and Mexican American even, and we should be ready to support each other.” communities.

As for the Mexican government, Guzman echoed others at Both are aimed at what participants say is state-sanctioned the vigil in calling for more accountability. violence against unarmed civilians.

“The president and other [officials] need to do their jobs and In November, hundreds gathered in mostly-Latino enclaves find these students, that would be justice for their parents and the around California, including Bakersfield, where over 40 people rallied as part of a “Global Day of Action for Ayotzinapa.” That’s where 43 university students disappeared late September after being confronted by Mexican police in the state of Guerrero. Six students died in the ensuing altercation. Many believe the 43 students were handed over to a local drug gang on orders from the city’s mayor.

In the days and weeks that followed, Mexicans poured into the streets to express their outrage. Their countrymen across the border in the U.S. – and even around the globe – quickly followed suit. “ T h o s e s t u d e nt s yo u see in the pictures may as well be my students,” said Cal State Bakersf ield sociology professor Dr. Gonzalo Santos, who organized the Bakersfield vigil. The pictures were part of an arrangement of 43 empty school cha i rs, i n reference to the missing students. On each empty chair was placed a Organizers of the protest in Bakersfield set up 43 chairs with pictures of the missing students in Mexico. burning candle, with a photo and the name of each disappeared people,” said Guzman. “They need to root out officials who are student. Towards the end of the ceremony, a rose was laid on each working with cartels who are adding to so much of the violence.” seat.

Adriana Utado was also among those in Bakersfield. She came “I see my students’ faces in their faces,” added Santos. to the U.S. recently from Mexico City, where she studied biology “Imagine coming to class one day and 43 of your students have at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM). “I simply gone missing.” witnessed and experienced many injustices while in Mexico, and Esperanza Guzman is one of Santos’ students and attended it’s the lower classes who always lose out,” said Utado. the vigil. “This event is to let the people know we are united with Utado receives regular updates on the protests in Mexico the people of Mexico in protest of the forty-three students,” she from her parents back home, and said people there will need to said. “We’re here with people from Bakersfield and nearby towns, come together to change the state if it does not reflect the needs Delano, Taft, Arvin, Shafter ... who are here to show support.” of society.

Guzma n, who has b een fol low i ng t he Ayotzi napa “Silence is not an option for anyone who wants the situation developments, said that this is a historical moment for Mexico. But to change,” she said. it will be a long time, she added, before change materializes.

“ Imagine coming to class one day and 43 of your students have simply gone missing.”

“It takes time, but the people of Mexico are united to speak out and say, ‘We need justice for what’s happened,’” said Guzman.

“We’ve got to tell the Mexican state, ‘Enough!’ and … bring these students home.”

Guzman said she thinks more Americans need to show their

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Fresno Officer ‘Building Bridges’ to City’s Youth Fernando Flores Duran / ThekNOw

both have Explorer programs. The Fresno Police Department is now developing their program.) Then there’s the cadet program.

You have to be 18, with a high school diploma and a driver’s license. You apply online directly with the Fresno Police Department. That’s how I started and it’s a

Editor’s Note: Officer Mike Martin is the Youth Liaison Officer for the Fresno Police Department. A native of Fresno, Martin joined the force in 2005 and has since then worked in various assignments with the city’s youth.

He describes his current role as a “go between” for Fresno law enforcement and young people who he says often feel “unfairly targeted.”

Martin spoke with The kNOw youth reporter Fernando Flores Duran, 15, about building trust with the community, entering the law enforcement profession, and the effects of Fergusson in Fresno.

Officer Mike Martin (in uniform) uses basketball to connect with youth in Fresno.

What drew you to working with young people?

Why did you decide to become a police officer?

My dad was a police officer for 30 years, so I grew up in a law enforcement environment. I’ve been a full officer since June of 2005. Since then I’ve worked on various assignments: I was part of the district crime suppression team which targeted violent crime, gang members, drugs. From there, I did school resource, where I worked at a continuation school for kids who got expelled from Fresno Unif ied. My current position is Youth Liaison Officer.

What do you do as a Youth Liaison Officer?

I act as the go-between for the police department and the youth of Fresno. I typically work with youth ages 14 -24.

I plan different events, such as midnight basketball, that try to reduce violence in Fresno. We’ve also done trainings at the Institute of Technology, where youth used a simulator that let them go through a reallife scenario as a police officer. I’ve also been a big part of Fresno BMOC (Boys and Men of Color). Really, I’m getting out into the community to shed a positive light on the police department.

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I always wanted to teach, so when the school resource position b e c a m e av a i l a b l e I knew I wanted it. It was a small, but very challenging environment. Many of the students had negative perceptions of the police, but I was able to see them everyday and build relationships. And students started opening up to me and we were able to break down the barriers.

As a person of color, what has been your experience in law enforcement?

I haven’t had any problems as a person of color; I’ve had a lot of opportunities within the department. But, as far as the community goes, it’s important to reflect the people you serve. (Chief Jerry Dyer) has said that he wants to get more men and, especially, women of color in the department.

What does a young person need to do to become a police officer?

There’s the volunteer program, where you begin to volunteer around your local police department. The second way is the Explorer program, which is for high school aged youth who start helping out around the department, learning the structure and learning not to get in trouble so that you can keep a clean background. (Clovis Police Department and the Fresno County Sheriff

great way to get your foot in the door. The last way is to go straight into the Police Academy at Fresno City College. It runs every 6 months and there’s a night academy for people who work during the day. The biggest thing is not getting in trouble and having a clean background.

What’s morale like among your fellow officers following the events of Ferguson and the killing of the two police officers in New York?

As far as police officers go, anytime an officer gets hurt or loses their life in the line of duty, it’s a sad day. It’s something we never want to see. I know as an officer, you are always aware of what’s going on, and you don’t want to do things that will get you in trouble. I definitely think officers are aware of the tensions within the community. Which is the whole reason my position exists, to build bridges especially with youth … [many of whom] feel unfairly targeted or disrespected on the streets.

How do you build those bridges?

I think it really comes down to communication, talking to youth and explaining why we do certain things. It’s important for police officers to take the time to explain why they stopped someone.

But it goes both ways. It’s interesting, one of the young men from Fresno BMOC just went on a ride-along because he wants to Continued on page 20

Youth Depression a ‘Tough Pill’ for Indian American Parents to Swallow

By Anonymous as told to Viji Sundaram / New America Media Editor’s Not e: As in oth er immig rant communities, open discussion of mental health issues is taboo for many Indian American families, despite the fact that incidences of depression and similar disorders are on the rise.

For one young woman, that stigma led to years of hidden suffering and missed opportunities at treatment, all in the name of maintaining her family’s “model minority” image. Leela (not her real name) spoke to NAM Health Editor Viji Sundaram about her experience.

It started in middle school, when I was around 11 years old. I started feeling weak, had memory lapses and had no motivation to do anything. I felt sad most of the time.

I thought the sadness was a normal part of pre-teen angst. I often starved myself for attention from my parents and friends.

Most days, I cried myself to sleep.

Often, I didn’t finish my homework or turn it in. How could I? My thought processes were so chaotic. My grades slipped, and I felt guilty about it. I knew I was letting down my parents. My dad had done well in Silicon Valley. How I wish they understood what was going on inside of me. Whenever they asked me why I looked so exhausted, I just told them I was fine. And they didn’t press me further.

I tried to pull myself together, to work through my issues. I hid my pain, plunging myself into Indian classical music and South Indian classical dancing. Many people told me I was a good singer, but I didn’t recognize it as a skill I possessed and I had no confidence to sing before a gathering.

At scho ol , my teachers d id n’t understand me, either, but that may have been because I couldn’t articulate what I was going through. But even so my counselor sensed something was not well with me. My classmates began kind of bullying me, telling me I was dumb. It made me feel awful because I had always been a high achiever. My self-esteem hit rock bottom. My social life all but disappeared.

When I was in middle school, the principal told my parents to have me checked. They took me to an occupational therapist/educational strategist, who diagnosed me with Attention Def icit Disorder. While she treated my depression

We South Asians are a model minority community and children are not supposed to have mental health issues. as a mere footnote, I was relieved to know that whatever it was that had been troubling me had a name.

But it was a tough pill for my parents to swallow. We South Asians are a model minority community and children are not supposed to have mental health issues.

Sympathetic as my mom was toward me, she told me I wasn’t to tell my relatives or people in the community about my problem.

I was t rapped i nside a ba l l of depression and heartache. I felt so alone.

Nevertheless, I was determined not to let that come in the way of my academics. At my parents’ insistence, I enrolled in some advanced placement courses like math, even though I wasn’t good at it.

Then my grades began to slip again.

In my second year of high school, I grew anorexic. I dropped from 110 pounds to 84 pounds. For months, I kept slipping between binging and starving. I frequently flirted with the thought of committing suicide.

When I got accepted to the UC system, my parents were thrilled. With continued medication and therapy, I did well in school, although I didn’t have many friends. This was the f irst time I was living away from home and away from the networks I had built growing up.

One day, while in my freshman year, someone whom I knew sexually assaulted me. I was traumatized and I went into deep depression. I shut down completely and barricaded myself in my room. I stopped Continued on page 16

A death in her family sent Amber into a deep depression, but she was able to get help. If you’re fighting depression, you have options.

#FeelBetter

One way to get mental health coverage is to enroll in Medi-Cal. Hear Amber’s story and find out how to get covered at:

FeelBetterCA.org

YOUTHWIRE.ORG

11

Selfie by Joshua Jimenez

Confessions of an E-Cig Salesman Thomas Lick / VoiceWaves

A

s a 20-something-year-old student, I’ve endured my share of odd jobs in the pursuit of work experience and a little extra cash. All of these jobs were temporary, fleeting experiments in just how far I would go for a blessed buck. One of the more memorable jobs was a short-lived gig as a “brand ambassador” for an e-cigarette company.

Prior to my training, I only had slight knowledge of the burgeoning world of electronic cigarettes. What I did notice was that a lot of teenagers and young people in their 20’s would come my way.

As it turns out, 10 percent of U.S. high school students tried e-cigarettes in 2012, according to the most recent study conducted by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) — more than double the number from the previous year. One could only assume that the percentage has since risen, with new e-cig brands popping up and the products becoming more visible and readily available on the open market.

Most of the youth who approached me during my time working for the e-cigarette

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company were already smokers and were drawn to the “clean” image of the devices.

They were either trying to quit, or were looking for a healthier alternative to smoking tobacco cigarettes.

liquid in a myriad of flavors ranging from classic tobacco to Peach Tea, or even a custom homemade blend. All can be had with varying percentages of nicotine or no nicotine at all.

For Nic Pariarca, 19, vaping wasn’t so much a healthier option as it was a more convenient means of getting his nicotine fix. An avid smoker since he was seventeen, Pariarca made the switch to electronic cigarettes when he turned eighteen. Unlike with traditional cigs, he could smoke virtually anywhere, legally, and didn’t have to puff as much to feel satisfied.

“I was a horrible chain smoker and got up to two packs a day,” said Pariarca, “so I needed a lot of nicotine.”

With just a couple of hits of his e-cig, Pariarca was able to get more than his previous two-pack-a day intake, allowing nhim to go “throughout the day with one [hit] here or one there.”

Recently, Pariarca decided to drop the habit entirely, cold turkey. He tried vaping as a means of weaning himself off of cigarettes, but was unsuccessful.

Dr. Adedayo Onitilo, a Marshfield Clinic oncologist and chairman of the Wisconsin Cancer Council, claims that because traditional cigarette smokers still are addicted to nicotine, many aren’t giving up the habit when they start vaping.

“Instead, they’re using e-cigarettes in places where smoking isn’t allowed,” said Onitilo.

The range of flavors and the ability of users to invent their own has been a key sticking point for e-cigarette opponents,

“I think it’s popular amongst the youth nowadays because of the media and marketing. For a lot of these youth and kids, it’s like a recreational thing, but for some people it’s a life changer.”

However, the first thing I learned in my job training was that these devices are neither proven cessation tools nor healthier than regular cigarettes. In fact, the chief rule was to avoid making such claims.

If anyone asked, our response was to be: “Unfortunately, I am not able to answer any questions pertaining to your health.

That would be better directed at your personal physician.”

E-cigarettes don’t burn tobacco.

Instead, a battery heats up a liquid and turns it into a vapor. You can get the

who believe the products are being marketed to kids, which in turn leads to them using the real thing.

Allison Vandeveld is an operations manager at Vapin USA, an e-cigarette company that has a store located in Long Beach. The patrons she sees, said Vandeveld, are typically older, more experienced smokers, not youth.

She believes it’s “far reaching” to argue that the flavoring available in e-cigs Continued on page 16

“Being a youth reporter at VoiceWaves forced me to be more outgoing and take more risks, so I could get to know my community and become more involved.”

Suzan Al-Shammari experience as a youth reporter for VoiceWaves gave her the confidence she needed to land a communications internship at the Mayor’s Office in Long Beach.

The YouthWire Network is Connecting Youth to Their: Community School Careers Government Future

The YouthWire network uses journalism as a tool to train local youth in civic-engagement and leadership. YouthWire serves to broaden the collective reach of their content — beyond the local — to include a statewide audience of policymakers, advocacy groups, activists, educators and youth.

Learn more about California’s next generation of community leaders at YouthWire.org

The YouthWire network is: SOUTH KERN SOL wecedyouth.org

voicewaves.org

theknowfresno.org

southkernsol.org

coachellaunincorporated.org

When Tap Water is Tainted Amber Amaya / Coachella Unincorporated

“A

gua 4 All” is a pilot project that aims to bring clean drinking water to rural communities across California. The project marked its launch earlier this year in Thermal, Calif.

“Agua 4 All” will fund the installation of water bottle refilling stations, or “taps,” in schools and other locations accessible to community members in rural parts of California where access to clean drinking water is often scarce.

The eastern Coachella Valley is the first location to pilot the tap program; a similar program is being replicated in South Kern County.

Sergio Carranza, executive director of Pueblo Unido CDC, said this project will aid 150,000 residents in the eastern Coachella Valley and South Kern County who lack access to safe drinking water in their communities due to high levels of naturally occurring arsenic found in their groundwater.

“Today, this initiative marks a historical event and a new initiative where we are focused on creating new resources, leveraging more opportunities and working together with the community to change the way we receive water,” said Carranza at

published a survey that showed 58% of children (age 2-17) in the eastern Coachella Valley drank soda or a sugary beverage the day before the survey was administered.

Paz said it is difficult to ask east valley residents to drink more water when their access to clean drinking water is limited.

Many families, who do not have access to clean water, often choose to purchase sodas or other, more affordable, sugary beverages.

“This work is a smaller strategy of the big picture that we’re trying to achieve here in the eastern Coachella Valley when it comes to access to water,” Paz said. “We realize that it shouldn’t be a privilege to open your tap and get water that you can drink; it should be your right.”

Still, that isn’t the case for many residents in the eastern Coachella Valley, despite California’s Human Right to Water Bill. .

“It’s a right for everyone, all of [California’s] citizens, not just those in big cities,” said Kyle Ochenduszko, a water quality engineer for the State Water Resources Control Board. “So we’re encouraged by the efforts of the RCAC (Rural Communities Assistance Corporation) and Pueblo Unido to expand clean drinking water to new and other communities that have previously been underserved.”

“ We realize that it shouldn’t be a privilege to open your tap and get water that you can drink; it should be your right.” the morning press conference. “We are changing the culture of drinking water; we are creating a new habit of drinking water.”

Two tap stations have been installed in the San Jose Community center. And 120 more stations are expected to be installed in the eastern Coachella Valley and South Kern County, according to Stanley Keasling, the chief executive off icer of the Rural Communities Assistance Corporation (RCAC).

Cástulo Estrada, recently elected to represent division 5 on the Coachella Valley Water District board, Each water bottle refilling station has a tries out the tap station in the San Jose Community Center in Thermal, Calif. Photo by Amber Amaya fountain spout where people can fill up reusable water bottles, and there is also a water spout for Keasling said he hopes the “Agua 4 All” program will soon people to drink directly from the station. The water for the station expand to other underserved rural communities. is filtered through an on-site certified water filter.

Silvia Paz is the director of Building Healthy Communities Eastern Coachella Valley. Speaking at an “Agua 4 All” press conference at the San Jose Community Center in Thermal, Calif., Paz said access to clean water is a right for all California residents.

The “Agua 4 All” campaign helps fulfill a commitment The California Endowment made to 14 underserved communities in California to improve community health.

In 2011, the UCLA Center for Health Policy research

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Eulogy for Lake Success Story and Photo by Cresencio Rodriguez Delgado / The kNOw The very first time my family went to visit Lake Success, I was a bit nervous to step out of our family van. Being just a small child, the monstrous lake was intimidating. From my low vantage point in the car, it seemed as if we were actually driving on the lake.

I returned to the lake years later as a young adult, and the lake that had been huge in my mind’s eye didn’t match the tiny pond sitting before me. Of course, most things from childhood seem to grow smaller as one grows taller, but this was different.

The lake didn’t just seem smaller, it was smaller – and by a lot.

Arriving at the lake as a kid, all I could see out of our van’s window was the sparkling, blue water. The golden hills and winding roads made the area seem like a foreign land, even though it was just a few minutes from my childhood home in Porterville.

Our family, like many others, escaped the Central Valley heat by taking a trip to the lake.

Lake Success was an oasis.

Countless vans, trucks and canopies lined the lakeshore and anywhere you stood,

you could smell the barbecue lunches from the picnic tables set up along the shore.

Cold drinks and fresh fruit helped everyone stay cool, and music radiated around the lake while children swam and played. Boats of all kinds filled the water, from fishing boats to pontoons to sheriff ’s boats.

Lake Success sure was a success at one point. Built in 1961, Success Dam created a reservoir by damming up the South Fork of the Tule River. The result was Lake Success, which in addition to being a place of recreation, provided water for irrigation on nearby farms.

The lake sat mostly unchanged up until just a few years ago. With the safety of the old dam in question, the amount of water allocated to the reservoir was reduced.

Today, even though the cutback in water has been officially lifted, the lake has not returned to what it was. In fact, it’s even more diminished. But this time the reason is not a decision made by the water district — it’s nature. Ravaged by drought, the lake now sits nearly empty, at just 7 percent of capacity.

Now, fishing is almost completely un hea rd of here, b oat i ng is nea rly

impossible with the water so low, and lake visits become less appealing by the day.

Lake Success is slowly drying up, as are my memories and hopes of ever seeing it as powerful and vibrant as it was in my childhood.

Growing up, it was common to overhear people speculating about the damage a break in the dam would cause.

People would grimace at the thought — a vast amount of water that would f lood the town if something were to ever happen to the dam. I see the lake now and those conversations seem almost ridiculous.

As I stand on the shore revisiting the remnants of Lake Success, I’m left to ponder how something that loomed so large could recede so quickly. That living lake of my childhood now exists only in the countless photos taken, the many memories of weekends on the shore, and the empty hole it leaves in the surrounding community. The severe drought that is crippling nearly half the state has provided a stark reminder. Nothing remains the same.

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Why Did Child Protective Services Turn its Back?

Lydia Anderson / The Redwood Voice Editor’s note: When asked about challenges our community faces, young people often remark that social services are inadequate, and that public agencies designed to help youth in crisis don’t step in when needed, either because they can’t—or they won’t. Young people are struggling to understand why the adult world seems so unable or unwilling to meet their basic needs.

Youth Journalist Lydia Anderson, age 16, tells her story: I grew up with two drug addicted parents. I was taught how to transgress the law and get away with it. I was taught and trained to fear authority—to know which police officers sold drugs just like my parents did, who would smooth my path if I got into trouble, who would throw me in a cell if I wronged him. And most of all, I was taught never to ask any official for help. Ever.

Drugs swallowed my parents’ lives, something not unusual in this community. And my parents lost the ability and desire to parent me. I lived on the street along with many other kids in Del Norte County. I started living on my own when I was ten. I slept at friends’ houses some nights and some nights I slept outside. I was surrounded by drug addicts. No one signed me up for school, though I deeply desired to go. For more than a year and a half of this—of not laying in a bed to sleep, of not having a parent to help me, of not having the education I wanted, of being so hungry I forgot what feeling full was like—I decided I couldn’t take it anymore.

Confessions of an E-Cig Salesman Continued from page 12 said Vandeveld. “But there’s f lavored everything. Adults like flavors.”

Twenty-year-old Joshua Jimenez began smoking cigarettes at the age of 12.

He believes that while e-cigs have helped him minimize his smoking habit, they still pose a threat to children.

“I think it’s popular amongst the youth nowadays because of the media and marketing,” Jimenez said. “For a lot of these youth and kids, it’s like a [recreational] thing, [but] for some people it’s a life changer.”

The increased interest from youth is worrisome for many, but does it equate to youth going on to cigarette smoking?

Despite the doubling of electronic cigarette use by young people cited in their report, the CDC gives no evidence of nonsmoking teens trying tobacco cigarettes after experimenting with e-cigarettes.

According to a CDC press release, “About 76.3 percent of middle and high school students who used e-cigarettes within the past 30 days also smoked conventional cigarettes in the same period.”

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I went to the Child Protective Services Building, despite my upbringing to avoid seeking help from those in power. I would tell them what my parents did, tell them how alone I was, ask them for help—and betray my family. It was my last resort.

They had me sit in a room. It was small, square, and plain. It smelled of baby power and hand sanitizer. I told them everything.

And then I sat in that room for nearly six hours—waiting. They didn’t come to check on me. Finally, one of the social workers came to retrieve me. She told me she had made a lot of calls, but that I had to go. She sent me out onto the street, knowing I wasn’t going home—knowing I didn’t have a home to go. They didn’t have a foster home to put me in, she said.

I’m not the only kid that this has happened to. It happened to both my sister and me, on separate occasions, and I saw CPS turn my friends away, too, when they went for help. Child Protective Services, by def inition, is supposed to provide protection to children—and yet children who don’t have food, a home, caretakers, basic means of protection, are turned away. For whatever reason, they didn’t do their job—I went out onto the street with no support and nowhere to turn for help. I never understood why.

This story was produced by The Redwood Voice, a youth-driven media hub serving the Del Norte community.

But concerns over the targeting of young people by e-cigartte companies is prompting a growing response.

New York City is the most recent city to ban the use of e-cigarettes in public places. And we may see bans on advertising, or on sales to minors in the near future.

Vandeveld of Vapin USA f irmly believes in the 18-and-over policy.

“I do think a lot of the stores need to have a rule–18 and over. It’s not a regulated rule right now but all of our stores have that in place,” said Vandeveld.

Youth Depression a ‘Tough Pill’ for Indian American Parents to Swallow Continued from page 11 going to class. When my parents found out, they were angry.

I continued having panic attacks into the next year because the guy who raped me was still around. I kept retracting into myself and binging. I put on almost 50 pounds. My attendance was so poor that at the end of my sophomore year, I got kicked out of school and went back home.

I confided in my mom and told her

about the rape. She was sympathetic. I enrolled in a nearby community college and isolated myself from my community because I didn’t want to be judged. I developed social anxiety.

More recently, I have been opening up to my mom and my dad, especially to my mom. They are doing their best to help me cope with what I am going through. But my mom still can’t read me because I still hide things from her.

Unt i l re c ent ly, I d id n’t k now depression was treatable. I wish my teachers had recognized what was happening to me, and had not treated it as a passing phase.

I also wish Indian American parents realize how prevalent mental depression is and recognize it in their children so we won’t have to suffer in silence. I know other kids in my community who have mental health issues. Recognition is the first step in the healing process.

Accepting as my parents have been of late of what I’m going through, they have still not told anyone outside the family.

That’s why as I share my story, I have to hide under the pseudonym, Leela.

“ Tandas” Provide When Banks Won’t Lend Cinthia Gonzales / Boyle Heights Beat

Y

ou choose your top 10 friends – the ones you trust with your life.

You give them each a number, from one to 10. You add a certain amount of money, and then you have the ingredients to start a tanda.

Tandas – also known as “rotating credit associations” – can serve as a substitute for bank loans. Each member of a tanda puts in the same amount of money

which are often led by women, offer a way for women to become f inancially independent, or at least to have a sense of power over family finances.

The number of members in a tanda determines the number of weeks the tanda lasts. Usually, no more than 10 members belong to a tanda. The member who receives the number one is usually the organizer of the tanda. Every number represents a week

people have run away with the money after receiving their payout, and without paying their share for the other participants.

Sisters can fight with each other; husbands can demand the money and family members can run away with the money.

Tandas, which are often led by women, offer a way for women to become financially independent, or at least to have a sense of power over family finances. each week and then each member has a turn to receive the whole pot.

Tandas provide a way for people to come together as a community and hold each other accountable for saving money.

Many immigrants rely on tandas because of the difficulty of getting credit.

Money from the tanda often is used to pay for big things: Quinceañeras, weddings or even for necessities like medical bills.

For Alfonso Estrada, a Boyle Heights resident, tandas are a way “to be able to save money.” Estrada participated in tandas even before he arrived here from Mexico 20 years ago.

Help for Business Tandas help Alma Diaz, 36, a single mother, run her business and support her children.

“Tandas are a way to save money, and you can use it for what you want. In my case, it’s for my business, because I like to buy merchandise and pay for it all at once,” said Diaz, who owns a small jewelry business.

“Tandas are generally something that poor people do, especially what women do, to maintain a sense of community,” says Bill Maurer, a UC Irvine anthropology professor and director of the Institute for Money, Technology & Financial Inclusion.

In Latino communities, the man usually is the main breadwinner, he says. Tandas,

or month, and each member picks a number between 1 and 10.

E a c h we ek (or m ont h) , ever y participant puts in the same amount, say $25 or $100. Members take turns receiving all the collected donations for the week (or month) they’ve been assigned. Over time, no one puts in more or takes out less than he or she has contributed. In essence, a tanda takes away the temptation to spend money, which is often the hardest part of saving.

Nobody knows when or where tandas originated, but they have been around in Latin America for generations. “A lot of people whose grandmothers participated in a tanda are now themselves interested in how they work” says Maurer. He has observed an increase in tandas as the economy has made it tougher to get loans from banks.

Rosa Flores, who started a tanda after seeing her mother do something similar in Mexico, learned to use tandas to save money. Her mother called it a caja de ahorro or saving box. Her mother’s own struggle to make ends meet inspired Flores to work hard. Flores’ daughter continues the tradition of saving money by participating in tandas.

Risks and Benefits Participating in tandas, however, can come with risks. In some circumstances,

List of names of people participating in a tanda, usually a group of 10 to 20 members. Photo by Jonathan Olivares

The trick to a successful tanda is finding the right people. “I remember an uncle who never returned with the money from the tanda that he had to pay, and then I had to pay it,” said Estrada. “The good part was that I already had money saved up to continue with the tanda.”

Similar lending clubs show up in other cultures as well, with different names. Cundinas exist in the Caribbean, susus in West Africa, and hui in China.

They all serve as a way for people to gather as a community and hold each other accountable for saving money. “The fact that it has been found all over the world is a real testament to its importance in people’s lives,” said Mauer.

Says Diaz: “The tandas certainly help me to avoid owing money to anyone. It gives me a great deal of pleasure to be able to maintain my household by myself and that my children don’t want for anything.”

YOUTHWIRE.ORG

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Fresh Produce, On the Go Jesus Perez / WeCed Youth Ed Note: Though the Central Valley is known worldwide as an agricultural mecca, many communities here do not have easy access to the fresh fruits and vegetables that surround them in abundance. In fact, some would call areas of Merced “ food deserts” for the lack of access to fresh and affordable produce. This invariably takes a toll on resident’s health, and their wallets.

Jesus, 18, examines a bright spot amongst the blight: Produce On The Go, a food truck that has begun to bring fruits and vegetables to neglected communities.

My old neighborhood of Beachwood is about three miles from the closest supermarket. There are only two corner stores that sell produce, and they are usually overpriced, have a small selection, and sometimes that produce isn’t refrigerated. Some people are forced to buy this food because they do not have transportation to go shop elsewhere.

“I don’t want to see somebody walk away without something to eat just because they don’t have money,” said Bergan.

While Bergan is determined to keep prices low for families in need, the ongoing drought worries him. The price of food has gone up in the past three months, and he is worried it will rise even more dramatically. This would force Bergman to raise the prices on his products as well. Currently, Bergman says that the prices of the truck are about equal to the prices of the average supermarket.

Another customer, Koy Saetern, says she thinks the prices are “very reasonable.” Saetern adds that her kids like the meals that she makes from the food she buys from the truck.

Bergman said he tries to have enough variety in the truck so any family buying food can make a whole meal out of the products.

At any given time, the truck sells pears, grapefruits, lemons, apples, carrots, onions, broccoli, rice, beans, and more, depending on what local farmers have available.

Produce On The Go began with an idea that Bergman had seven years ago. It has since developed into a project of the nonprofit Make Someone Happy receiving funds from both government agencies and businesses in the Central Valley. Bergman even obtained a retired beverage truck with the help of the Stewart family, owners of Delta Sierra Beverage and distributer for Budweiser, which was repainted to look more family friendly and food-related.

There are only two corner stores that sell produce. They are usually overpriced, have a small selection, and sometimes the produce is not refrigerated. Some people are forced to buy this food because they do not have transportation to shop elsewhere.

But as of November 2013, my neighborhood and others like it have a new option: the Produce On The Go truck. The truck sells produce and other groceries, purchasable by cash, credit, and even EBT cards, at schools and health centers across Merced County.

Produce On The Go targets socio-economically distressed areas of Merced County: Winton, South Merced, Planada, Le Grand, Dos Palos, Snelling, Santa Nella, and, most recently, Atwater, and stays at each location for three hours on average.

“It basically comes to us,” said Cristal Perez, a regular food truck customer. Perez also added that she thinks the prices at the food truck are better than the grocery stores.

“We try to sell our products at a low price. We also give away quite a bit,” said Produce On The Go Project Director, Donald Bergman.

During one of my visits to the truck, it was stationed outside of the Golden Valley Health Center in South Merced. A young boy approached the truck and asked Bergman if the food was free.

Bergman replied “No.” After hesitating a bit, he proceeded to tell the boy to pick a fruit. By this time, the father, who had a leg in a cast, approached the truck as well. The boy picked up an apple and stepped towards the cashier with his father. Bergman quietly declined to charge the two for the apple.

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“ Without the courtesy of Delta Sierra, it would have been impossible to get this started,� said Bergman.

Despite obstacles like a lack of funding and the ever-persistent drought, Bergman continues driving the truck to new clusters of hungry customers that he finds are in the most need of its services.

Months ago, Mercedia n Ada m Peichoto approached the truck to satisfy his curiosity about the colorful Produce On The Go vehicle. Not only did he gain a newfound appreciation for local produce after investigating the truck and talking with Bergman, he also left the truck with a tangerine that he purchased for only a quarter.

Bottom Left: A Produce on the Go employee weighs out broccoli on a portable check out stand.

Far Left: A variety of fruits and vegetables line the shelves of a converted beverage truck. Below: The Produce on the Go food truck is emblazoned with family friendly imagery encouraging residents to eat healthy. Above: A young customer is happy to have a mango. Photos by Alyssa Castro

YOUTHWIRE.ORG

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Fresno Officer ‘Building Bridges’ to City’s Youth Continued from page 10 become a police officer. So, I text him to see how it went, and he had a really good time, but he was surprised how disrespectful people were to the police officers. That really shocked him. So, we need to f ix that. And it’s really hard. But it starts with communication.

What are your biggest challenges to building a better relationship with the community?

First of all, citizens have to feel safe in their community. If you don’t feel safe in your neighborhood then you aren’t going to approach a police officer. It’s a big issue. Especially after something happens, people don’t talk to the police because they’re afraid of retaliation. Getting over that involves making these neighborhoods safer by working with the community, the churches in the area, and the community based organizations. There are also a lot of negative perceptions out there. Young people don’t like talking to police officers.

Getting over that barrier, that’s the biggest part of my job.

Where are the opportunities?

The opportunity comes in working with communities. The police department can’t fix all the problems in the community.

It’s up to the residents to help us tackle crime and address other problems. We can always come in and help, but it really takes community buy-in.

In Fresno, the [planned] youth council is huge. We tried to find models elsewhere but couldn’t find anything at all, so I think this is one of the first police youth councils that will report directly to the chief. And really hearing the concerns of the youth can help prevent problems like what happened in Ferguson.

A Model for Police Reform Continued from page 12 stand by and let the one percent break the public trust.”

Though R ichmond has come a long way since its days on the FBI’s most dangerous cities list, Magnus knows there’s still work to be done. “ We c a n’t d rag p e ople i nto a relationship,” he says. “But as long as they’re willing to meet us half way, we’ll be there waiting.”

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Lessons from a Box of Raisins Bianca Pulido / South Kern Sol

H

ave you ever been a teenager working in the fields turning grapes into raisins in the heat?

I picked grapes last summer here in Arvin. It started when my mom got home from her first job and I asked her if I could come with her to the fields that evening. She told me to stop speaking nonsense.

I replied, “No really, how hard can it be? I’m just going to pick grapes, right?”

Giving me a knowing look, she agreed: “Okay, you want to work in the fields, let’s go then.”

Photo by Reyna Olaguez My mom is a single mother of four girls and at this time she held two jobs and neither were easy. It killed me to see her come home tired every afternoon and have to get ready for her next job.

I waited for her outside dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. That is when I learned that you have to be properly covered from head to toe to protect yourself from the heat and insects. I changed into old jeans, a sweater (in the heat!) and a hat. We went to the fields at 5 and could work until the sun went down.

My mom gave me a pair of heavy gloves, a tub, some paper and a pair of scissors to cut the grape bunches. I followed her to a long lane of grapes and she told me to lay the paper on the bottom of the tub, cut the grapes, and fill up the tub. The grapes go on the paper so the sun can turn them into raisins.

“Okay, that’s easy,” I said.

So there I was, doing my job and smiling. Thirty minutes later, I was still doing my job, however I was not smiling anymore. I was tired, hungry, thirsty, and had to use the ladies room. I sat down to take a break. When I turned around, I could see that my mom looked tired but did not take a break.

I realized that I have the most hard-working mom in the universe. Even though she is always tired from her work, she keeps going because she wants to give my sisters and me a better life. At that moment my mom gave me the strength to keep going. I started cutting grapes again without complaining, because that is exactly what my mother does.

Working in the fields was sweaty. My back ached from bending down to cut the grapes and spread them out on the brown paper. I am a young teenager, but I can only imagine what it must feel like for an older person.

Every sheet of paper that we filled up with grapes was 15 cents. At the end of the week together we earned about $80.

To break up the monotony I listened to music, or I told my mom riddles, which she did not get because they are not as good when translated from English to Spanish. The working conditions were harsh; it was hot and there was little water to drink.

This routine lasted for about 2 weeks, until I realized that I could not balance school with working in the fields. School had to come first. Working in the fields motivated me to pursue my education with more enthusiasm, because I sure not want to spend the rest of my life picking grapes in the sun. I am on my way to college!

Undocumented Community Hopeful Despite Court Ruling Daniel Jimenez / South Kern Sol

I

n late February, a federal judge in Texas blocked Obama’s executive actions from going into effect. But that hasn’t dampened the hopes of immigrants in South Kern. “I planned to apply right away. I even started talking to an attorney,” said Moran, 42, a father of three U.S. born children who has lived in South Kern since 1986. Moran admits he is discouraged by the judge’s ruling but says, “I feel it will pass, and I can’t wait to finally feel like I am doing everything right in this country.”

“I feel that it will pass, and I can’t wait to finally feel like I am doing everything right in this country,” he said.

Moran is one of about 5 million undocumented immigrants who could be eligible to receive a social security number, a work permit, and protection against deportation under the programs announced by President Obama in November. These include a new program for parents like Moran whose children are U.S. citizens or legal permanent residents, which is called Deferred Action for Parents of Americans (DAPA); and an expanded version of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), which removes the age cap from the 2012 DACA program.

Both programs have been blocked by Judge Andrew Hanen of Texas. But immigrant rights advocates expect the ruling to be overturned in the courts, and undocumented immigrants like

with my kids. I want that to change.”

Felipe, another South Kern resident, also believes the program will eventually go into effect.

“I have no doubt that the executive action is going to happen, even if the conservatives don’t want it. It’s time for us to come out of the shadows and start being treated like human beings,” says Felipe. “It’s no secret that we work in jobs others don’t want, we help the economy, and at the same time we feed this country, and thus, we deserve better opportunities.”

“ We have always been hopeful to be here legally, live a better life, a life without hiding, without knowing that there is a risk of being taken by ICE every time I leave my home.”

Photo by Demaris Garcia

Moran who will benefit from them are waiting it out.

“We have always been hopeful to be here legally, live a better life, a life without hiding, without knowing that there is a risk of being taken by ICE every time I leave my home,” said Moran.

Oscar, a father of three and a farm worker, moved to the United States from Puebla, Mexico 14 years ago.

“I came to find a better life like everyone else,” said Oscar.

“Thanks to my children, I will qualify for this new program. I know that this program has been stopped, but I’m very hopeful… I have faith… I have faith that this lawsuit will be over soon and we will be able to apply.”

Oscar, who currently holds two jobs, says a work permit would allow him to apply for a new job and spend more time with his children.

“If I qualify for this program, I am going to get a new job. I work in two different jobs, I work in a dairy farm and I also work in the fields. I do this in order to give my children everything they need and everything they deserve,” says Oscar. “Waking up very early in the morning is not easy, and it barely leaves time to spare

Victor Hugo, a legal representative with the United Farm Workers Foundation Bakersfield office, agrees.

“I definitely think that this program will happen. I think that the injunction that the judge in Texas put in the implementation of the program was a political move to scare people, but I have the confidence that after a court battle this program will be back on track,” he said.

In the meantime, he said, there are a few key things that undocumented immigrants should know.

The DACA program announced in 2012 remains in effect, so undocumented immigrants who came to the United States as children can still apply for and renew DACA. (Only the new, expanded version that eliminates the age cap has been postponed.)

Those who will qualify for the two new programs – DAPA and the expanded version of DACA – can’t apply yet, but they can start getting their documents together. “People can prepare themselves by getting together their evidence to prove the requirements,” he said.

Finally, Hugo said, it is important for undocumented immigrants to avoid scams and to only seek advice from qualified attorneys.

“I think it’s important that they don’t believe anyone who is trying to sell them a dream,” Hugo said. “There are no applications out so the community needs to be wary of people who are promising something that doesn’t exist and charging you for it… unscrupulous lawyers or notarios.”

For a list of accredited representatives and recognized organizations, visit www.justice.gov/eoir/displine.htm

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A Hmong Mother’s Journey to Fresno: In Her Own Words Chonny Vang / The kNOw Editor’s Note: Fresno is home to the second largest Hmong population in the United States. The Hmong in America originate from Laos and fled that country because they assisted the United States military in the Secret War. Hmong refugees fleeing Laos stayed in refugee camps in Thailand before they were relocated to America and other Western countries. Zoua Vang, 39, grew up in a Thailand camp and moved to Fresno in 1994 with her husband, three children and her in-laws. Vang would have five more children who were born in Fresno. One of them, Chonny, 16, is now in Advanced Placement classes, plays on the girls volleyball team, and plans on attending a four-year university after graduation. Chonny interviewed her mother and translated her story, as a tribute to the hard work and support she has given her children.

man.” Sometimes my grandma would hit me because I was crying too much. I missed my mom so much that one day I ran away to stay with her, but the next day my grandma and uncles took me back.

When I lived with my grandma I really wanted to go to school but my grandma said, “You are a girl. Going to school is not worth anything and won’t benefit your future. Only boys go.” Instead I cooked all the meals, carried water home from the river, sewed cloth designs, cleaned

“ Stop crying! If your mother loved you then your mother would never have left you to live with another man.”

A

s a child, the first thing I knew was that I had no father. He died in Laos during the Vietnam War, when I was little. My mom explained to me that my father was a soldier for General Vang Pao. In the beginning of the war, a bomb exploded, and shrapnel hit my father in the chest and back.

The doctors successfully removed the shrapnel from his chest, but before they could get to his back, communist Vietnamese and Pathet Lao soldiers took over the Hmong villages, where the major hospital was located. My father went on the run with my family into the mountains of Laos. With no doctors around to remove the remaining shrapnel, he passed away from that injury, hiding from our enemies.

After this, my family went to the refugee camp of Ban Vinai in Thailand in order to be safe.

My mom was a great mother. She cared for my three brothers, my sister and me, and gave us lots of love, but she made the decision to remarry, leaving us with my grandma and uncles. After she left, I would [often] cry myself to sleep. My grandma would always say, “Stop crying! If your mother loved you then your mother would never have left you to live with another

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the house, farmed — anything that is consider a woman’s duty. Sewing clothing designs was the only way to earn money. I wasn’t able to spend time with my friends and close cousins unless we were sewing clothes.

Kids with parents could have an education because their parents would support them. With no parents, I could do nothing. No matter how much hard work I did for my grandma and uncles, I received no thanks or reward. As an orphan, I would look

Photos courtesy of the Vang family.

at the children who had parents and imagine my life if I had parents. Would I be treated with respect? Would I be going to school?

But since I didn’t have a mom and a dad, whatever my grandma and uncle said I had to do. They would say, “You must do this – not doing is not an option.” If I didn’t obey their orders, then they said they wouldn’t give me food or let me live under their roof. Since I was an orphan I had to do what they wanted. Even though they didn’t always give me food, at least I had a place to sleep. Of course, if I went somewhere they’d forbidden, when I came back they would lock me outside of the house and refuse to let me in. They would tell me, “Later when you come back, you sleep outside.”

Finally, when I was about 13, the worst happened — a man asked to marry me. I tried to refuse, but I was exchanged by my family for 6,620 Thai Baht, which is about $200.

Phong Vang’s family before fleeing to the USA

“ You are a girl. Going to school is not worth anything and won’t benefit your future.

Only boys go.”

Vang with her three oldest children stand in front of their first Fresno home.

Living with my new husband, I did everything that is considered a wife’s duty.

After having 3 kids, we migrated to the U.S. My husband works hard for the $42,000

per year he makes, but he and I have some barriers still because we never developed a relationship before we got married.

At first, all of my time was spent taking care of my kids. But now that they are all going to school, I finally have some time to myself. I wish I could go to work but I don’t have the skills I would need — I can barely understand English. Not having a job stresses me out because everything in this country is based on money. Earning nothing, I don’t have money to pay my bills, or spend on my kids. Here there is plenty of opportunity to get an education, but I wouldn’t know where to start because I have never gone to school.

M o s t d ay s , I g a r d e n a n d d o housework, but I put those aside when there are award ceremonies or parentteacher meetings at school. I make those the priority to show support for my children and stay involved with Fresno Unified School District. I have met other Hmong mothers through parent meetings and many of them also have high-achieving children even though they did not go to school themselves.

I think education is very important to everybody, probably the most important thing. Education is the key to a better life – it opens up opportunities. Because I didn’t have the chance to get an education as a child, I am supporting my children’s

education in every way I can, so that they will be successful and stress-free; so that they will not endure the life that I lived.

Even though it’s too late for me to get an education, I’m very proud of what my children have accomplished. My oldest daughter graduated from UC Berkeley and the next three are all enrolled in different colleges. One of my daughters just won a competitive Dell Scholarship when she graduated high school a year early and enrolled at Fresno State.

It’s hard to relate to what they have accomplished, but I do know that other members of the Hmong community have also succeeded, supported by their family.

I am proud of my children, that they are achieving my dream for them of a higher education.

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