SAN JOSE, Calif.--This year,
there have already been six gang-related deaths here in San Jose, and our
juvenile hall is reporting more violence than it has seen in decades. In
response, the city is rushing to support existing anti-gang programs and
start new ones. They need to re-think their strategy.
With $4 million in new resources, the city is educating youths on the
negative aspects of gang life, reducing the availability of gang clothing and
investing in mobile street outreach units.
While I applaud any action to stop gang violence, the city's approach is
based on a superficial analysis. The escalating gang problem is about more
than just colors and clothing. It reflects deep conflicts between U.S.-born
Chicanos and newly immigrated Mexicans. Since immigration is only increasing,
policies aimed at reducing gang violence must address this root tension.
The city has cracked down on merchants selling "gang garb" --
clothing that can be bought at just about any liquor store in East San Jose.
But gang colors -- displayed on jerseys, hats and bandanas -- are not the
cause of conflicts. Rather, they are flags signifying with whom people
identify. The real problem is much deeper.
The mayor's Gang Task Force has declared that its mission is to
"reclaim [youths] from anti-social forces that have disconnected them
from their families, schools, communities, and their futures." But gangs
are not "anti-social." If anything, they are strong social
movements. From the prisons to the streets, they are organized and have
structured ideologies. In many cases, gangs affiliation is what binds
families and even neighborhoods together.
Gangs provide social cohesion and cultural identity. Any alternative that
will make a real difference must do the same.
Gang allegiances provide cohesion, but also lead to lethal conflicts.
Tensions have escalated as those who identify as Chicano or immigrant band
together to protect their people and identity. On the streets, the conflict
is understood as being between the "North" (Chicanos wearing red)
and "South" (immigrants wearing blue).
Chicanos see themselves as fighting to protect their neighborhoods from an
invading immigrant force. In my neighborhood, I hear angry Norteņos claiming,
"Our city is being infested." They feel compelled to
"exterminate."
Immigrant Latinos who claim blue identify with the Mexican struggle against
discrimination in the United States, even discrimination on the part of
Chicanos. When I asked a young Sureņa-identified girl at the high school
where I tutor why she hates Norteņos, she said, "'Cause they think
they're better than us. They don't know what being Mexican is about."
This focus on differences and sense of superiority has spread through
generations -- no different than the Klan or other American hate groups. Some
Latino children are taught this hate at an early age by hearing their
parents' bias. Others learn from life on the street.
Of course, not all Latinos perpetuate the North-South rivalry, but there is
an undeniable, unspoken segregation between Chicanos and Mexican immigrants.
The North vs. South belief system affects everyone who lives in
gang-dominated neighborhoods. Youths get labeled whether or not they are
affiliated. Whether or not a kid is "hardcore," many are already
deeply exposed to gang ideology by the time they hit high school.
Recently I was involved with an "alternative to gangs" program at
a middle school in East San Jose. We ran a writing workshop that focused on
the negative aspects of gangs. I sat with one student who seemed to be having
trouble writing. Finally he wrote, "Gangs are bad because they are bad
for the community."
As he twiddled his pencil and looked at the floor, I asked him, "Is
that really what you think?"
"No," he answered with a scared look on his face. I asked him to
write what he really felt. He gave me a page and a half describing how
unified he felt with others like him in San Jose and throughout California;
how powerful it felt being part of something bigger than himself. His gang
identity gave him a name and a title that he could stand for and represent.
Gangs are not just a group of homies hanging on the corner. They represent
a way of life, and for those who identify with that way of life, challenging
the gang mentality means challenging who they are. "Just say no"
tactics are useless, even counterproductive.
Some of the best anti-gang programs are the ones that don't talk about
gangs at all. Youths don't need to be lectured about the dangers of the
streets -- they already know all that -- but they do need places they can
come to and just be kids. I'm not talking about a foosball table and video games
-- they need something to be part of, to take ownership of.
Organic cultural activities that already exist in our communities, such as
hip hop and low-riding, can give young people enough personal pride and group
identity to replace the gang mentality. Common ground can be found in these
cultural spaces, where young people can earn respect for what they have
accomplished rather than where they are from.
I've heard so many times from youths I work with who used to bang,
"I'm not a gangsta, I'm an MC. I'm about my music." For gang
prevention and intervention to be effective, young people need the tools to
construct a new identity, not just dismantle an old one.
David Madrid, 27, is a
writer and youth organizer for Silicon Valley De-Bug, the voice of young
workers, writers and artists in Silicon Valley and a PNS project. He has
participated in after-school programs for at-risk youths throughout the South
Bay.