Praise Those Who Help Tame Gang Problem : People Assisting Members in Leaving Violent Life Are Heroes

It has been estimated that there are as many as 150,000 street gang members in Los Angeles County, involving about 1,100 distinct groups. Getting into a gang usually requires some rite of passage such as a disfiguring tattoo and a ritualistic beating by other members. Another statistic--4,000 gang-related homicides between 1986 and 1993--illustrates the quickest and most foolproof method of getting out of one. According to one Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department study of 200 such killings, 76% of the victims were themselves suspected gang members. “The bottom line is self-destruction,” notes one community activist.

All too rare are cases in which members decide to leave gangs because they finally recognize that they have paid too high a price for a kind of respect that is deeply flawed. As stories by Times reporters Richard Lee Colvin, Julie Tamaki and others have pointed out, once they have been pulled into gang life, some sort of wrenching event seems to be required to convince members to pull out or even consider leaving.

Staying out requires even more, such as the caring intervention of family members, an adult friend, or even the police. It may also require the complete removal of the former gang member from his old environment. The people who seize on such opportunities, or at least try to, deserve strong praise.

Colvin’s story, for example, told the tale of 11-year-old North Hills gang member Luis Fernandez. It took the accidental death of Luis’ brother, at the hands of a fellow gang member, to convince the youth to reconsider his membership. By the time that happened, however, Paula Rangel, the manager of a nearby apartment building, was there to take advantage of the chance. Rangel has allowed Luis to move into her home, has bought him new clothes and helps him with his schooling. It is too early to tell whether Luis will keep his vow to leave the gang, but Rangel is providing commendable help toward that end.

Tamaki’s earlier account noted that the catalyst for one 17-year-old gang member was his brutal beating at the hands of members of his own gang. When that happened, “Li’l Bear,” as he is nicknamed, received quick support from his family, from officials at the San Fernando Valley high school he attends, even from the police who helped catch his attackers.

For both juveniles, it was the lack of such support in the first place that left them vulnerable to the influence of street gangs. In Li’l Bear’s case, gang life provided an ill-conceived escape route from a deteriorating relationship with his siblings and his stepfather. For Luis, gang members not only moved into the emotional void left by a classically dysfunctional family, they even used his family’s apartment as a refuge.

Few are more aware of the lure of street gang life than Manuel Velasquez, a crisis intervention worker for Community Youth Gang Services in the San Fernando Valley. At his Sylmar home, the former gang member keeps a notebook filled with figures that are just as frightening as the homicide statistics mentioned above.

Velasquez’s notebook contains the names of 250 former gang members, all of whom have been killed. As he spends 14-hour days seeking out current gang members and urging them to quit and go straight, the notebook is his reminder of the value of his work and of the tragedy of wasted lives. Velasquez is another welcome example of someone who is actively seeking to tame the city’s and the Valley’s gang problem.

It would be shortsighted to suggest that the gang members are largely just killing each other off and ought to be left alone to do just that. The gangs are a scourge on this city. Every reclaimed gang member is a potentially productive member of society, and one less person for the rest of us to worry about.