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UNDERSTANDING THE RIOTS / PART 3 : WITNESS TO RAGE : ON THE STREETS : ‘These problems aren’t about race; they’re about class.’

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Father Gregory Boyle,<i> S.J., 37, is pastor of Dolores Mission Church in East Los Angeles, the poorest parish in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. Eight youth gangs operate within its boundaries</i>

Wednesday was as dark a day as I can recall. We six Jesuits who live here were glued to the TV. It was just dark. We had isolated lootings in our community.

Thursday afternoon, as I rode my bike around the projects, I knew kids were arming themselves. I had gotten two tips from Latino gangs saying, “It’s going to come here.” There are moments here when I push all my chips to the center of the table and say, “Here is what I’ve done for you, and here is what I am going to ask of you.”

In this case, I went to them and said, I don’t want you to leave the house and I don’t want you to get involved with this. They stayed in the house. But when I left them about 5:00 and swung through the Pico Gardens Project, I saw these people staring towards a nearby warehouse. And, then I saw people walking out of it with huge boxes of stereos and stuff.

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I saw trucks were backed up to the building and men, women and children--everybody--taking part. There was a chain passing stuff out. I knew everybody on it. I got out of the car and it stopped. They all walked away. I got so mad, I just screamed. I said, “Where are the adults?” Then, the Public Housing police arrived and they caught a couple of kids who were inside.

Then, one of the housing police said, “You’re not going to believe what we found here.” So, I went up, and the thing he had found was a can of gas with rags stuck in it. I sort of blew. It’s one thing to deal with kids; it’s another to have parents involved.

I spent the rest of the evening telling everybody to go in. And boy, people really respected the curfew that first night. Whatever was happening, I wanted us to be able to hold it together.

A couple of us had been talking about the fact that it wasn’t happening here, and in the end, it really didn’t happen here. And part of the reason is that we have programs that take the edge off. We also have a good sense of community here. We may have nothing; we may be the poorest parish around, but there is a great sense of pride here.

Thursday, when I was over in the Aliso Village housing project, all our corner stores had closed. All but one are owned and operated by Asians. But each store is sort of adopted by a gang or two. Over here in Aliso Village, there’s a corner store on Utah and First--that’s where the Al Capone gang would go.

Now if that were to get torched, they literally couldn’t go to any other store. They can’t go to other stores because they belong to the Quatro Flats gang or the Fourth Street gang. One kid from Al Capone said to me, “You know we won’t let anything happen to our store.” So, I was relieved when they began to open about 10 Friday morning.

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That was part of the consciousness at that point: “We won’t destroy stuff that we need.”

There were other responses. On Thursday, one gang kid asked me, “This is the end of the world, isn’t it?” I said, “No, of course not.”

I know what he meant. I felt it. Inside I was saying, “Well, I’m not so damn sure.”

But maybe this really is a graced moment. White people in power were outraged by the Rodney King beating; I think white people in power were outraged by the verdict. Nobody here was outraged, because it’s simply part of the air we breathe.

One of the things I think we’re beginning to realize is that these problems aren’t really about race; they’re about class. I’ve buried 26 kids since I came to this parish. I always look back at Karen Toshima and the response that was immediate when she was killed on a street in Westwood. Thirty special detectives, a foot patrol and a $35,000 reward were offered. I’ve never seen any of those things here and I’ve buried 26 kids who were killed in the same way. It’s clear that one life in Westwood is worth 26 in Boyle Heights. That’s disturbing to us and, for the first time, disturbing to a wider group of people. I find that extraordinarily hopeful.

I feel like we’ve really turned a corner on something. Maybe for the first time, the poor themselves will be consulted and truly be architects of something different--a new way of proceeding. One of the things I think we’re beginning to realize is that these problems aren’t really about race; they’re about class.

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