UNDERSTANDING THE RIOTS PART 5 : THE PATH TO RECOVERY : ETHNIC COALITIONS : The Battle for Dignity on a Daily Basis

In another age, the Kerner Commission assessed the situation as one of two societies, one black and one white. Today, where would the commission put the third group--the brown society that now outnumbers the other two in Los Angeles?

I found the clearest manifestation of the differences between how Latinos and African-Americans view the Rodney G. King verdict and its aftermath in a small classroom of a parochial school in the heart of South Los Angeles, no more than three miles from the intersection considered to be the epicenter of the riot. The instructor, my cousin, spends his days protecting the innocence and idealism of our latest generation. These days, that is not easy. Half the students in his class are African-American, half Latino. They are only 13 and 14 years old, and yet they have--perhaps are forced to have--a startlingly mature perspective of what they and their neighborhood have endured in the last two weeks.

On the first day that formal instruction resumed in the parochial classroom, my cousin noticed an eerie tranquillity born of exhaustion, burnout and cynicism. Understandably, there was no enthusiasm--if ever there had been, in the class’s recital of the Pledge of Allegiance, with its promise of liberty and justice for all. There was the usual split along color lines, separating Latinos and African-Americans who sit on opposite sides of the room. The last time I visited the classroom, that split was illustrated by a fight on the playground between a group of black girls and a group of Latinas. Now, with the instructor’s instigation of a discussion on the subject of the verdict and the riot, the split had a new dimension--an ideological one.

The Latino students, struggling for the high ground, seemed to take a more conciliatory approach to the crisis. Some asserted that the trial of the four officers charged with illegally beating King was fair, or seemed fair. One maintained, as did the defense in the case, that King provoked the beating by breaking the law. There was agreement among Latinos that the looting and anarchy that followed the verdict was “wrong” and a sin. One student admitted to being angry at the looters and shaken by the fires that spread through her neighborhood.

By contrast, the African-American students were, understandably, far more angry and withdrawn. Like older segments of their community, they considered themselves under siege and disempowered by racism and a power structure of which they are not a part. They maintained that King was beaten “for no reason” and that the trial was unfair. While many admitted that the looting was “kinda bad” and that rioters should not have taken out their indignation on their own neighborhood, they were reluctant to express sympathy for victimized Korean store owners, who many claim have treated them disrespectfully. One girl claimed that her people could only be expected to take so much, and that there is no peace without justice. When asked about the sour relationship between African-Americans and law enforcement, more than one young person proved that the simplest response was the most poignant: “F--- the police.”

As I write this, my cousin calls to brief me on the day’s developments. There was more tension, more name-calling, more threats between the two groups. He must know that he lives in a war zone, and that he baby-sits the latest batch of soldiers who are, even before they enter battle, already deeply wounded. He describes the almost medieval aura that now engulfs his classroom, in which the daily battles are for respect and dignity--the very things denied their communities by the four officers and a spool of videotape.

Today, however, their instructor may have secured the high ground. He shouted to his students: “Enough!” He reminded them that there is already too much violence and division and lawlessness. He told them to look around at their neighborhood’s burned-down buildings, and asked them what they have done to rescue their lives from the ashes.

Where were the completed homework assignments? Where was the parental involvement in education? He asked how they could ask for respect from those on the Westside when they did not first respect each other or themselves. A student nodded. My cousin told them to give up the hope that their savior will arrive atop a white horse, that only they could save their neighborhood and themselves. Another student nodded. He may have convinced them, if only for a minute, that they were in the same boat, one with a whole in its bottom. He speaks with empathy and passion and conviction--qualities sadly lacking in our leadership.

The prescription for healing in Los Angeles has its foundation in first healing the cynicism of this generation. A New York Times poll before the riots found that 51% of young people, 18 to 24, thought U.S. race relations were worsening at an alarming rate.

President George Bush has to do what he should have done more than a year ago--vigorously press his Justice Department to prosecute the four officers in the King beating for violation of federal civil-rights laws. He has to declare unequivocally, as John F. Kennedy did in an compassionate speech after the siege at Birmingham, that we are “confronted primarily with a moral issue, as old as the Scriptures, and as fundamental as the American Constitution.” That issue now, as it was then, is the responsibility of government: to protect the liberty and dignity of its people.

Chief Daryl F. Gates can “Protect and Serve” by immediately inviting Police Chief-designate Willie L. Williams to take over the L.A. Police Department; the image of two cops, one black, one white, working together for justice and peace may be powerful enough to give my generation a sense of cooperation.

What we need in the streets of Los Angeles, and in this country, is not more violence and lawlessness, but love and compassion for one another. The words of Martin Luther King Jr. can be given the same resonance as those of the rap group Public Enemy, and the Pledge of Allegiance can mean something.

Finally, as the young soldiers walked from the classroom, there were hesitant handshakes and talk of peace. For them, and indeed for our country, tomorrow is another, perhaps brighter, day.