Alarcon, Chick Win Praise for 1st Year’s Work : City Council: Constituents and colleagues say the two new Valley members have toiled hard to make good on campaign vows.

If they were students, the report cards for Laura Chick’s and Richard Alarcon’s first year on the Los Angeles City Council would generally be glowing, with high marks given by their constituents and colleagues for enthusiasm and dedication to the very themes that got them elected.

Chick, a former council deputy who beat out her boss in June, 1993, to represent portions of the west San Fernando Valley, has become a tenacious advocate for improved police protection by drafting a slew of public-safety-minded ordinances and launching a donation campaign for the underfunded force.

But she also has developed a reputation as a maverick lawmaker who has been willing to step on toes when she feels strongly about an issue.

Meanwhile, Alarcon, who was former Mayor Tom Bradley’s Valley representative before becoming the Valley’s first Latino councilman, has spent much of his first year working to rejuvenate his economically depressed northeast Valley district through several renewal programs and improved city services.

Because the two new Valley representatives had previous City Hall experience, both have taken to their duties quickly, racing through the learning curve that confronts most rookie politicians.

“Both have hit the ground running, so to speak,” said Councilman Hal Bernson, a 15-year Valley representative. “They are good and energetic.”

But their freshman years have not been free of controversy.

For example, Chick has been accused by a coalition of Valley churches and synagogues of failing to fulfill a campaign promise to support city funding for an anti-gang program.

And Alarcon’s fight to close a landfill in his district has some city officials worried that if he succeeds, the city will be forced to pay more for trash disposal services.

Nonetheless, City Hall aides and political consultants say Chick and Alarcon have learned the first Golden Rule of politics: Stick to the issues that are of highest concern to your constituents and they will reelect you.

“They have not been bashful about representing themselves,” said veteran Councilman Zev Yaroslavsky, whose Westside district dips into the Valley. “They are not spectators. They are activists.”

Chick, a petite 50-year-old former social worker with salt-and-pepper hair, beat out her former boss, Joy Picus, during a brutal campaign in which Chick promised to cut many council perks and strive to improve police protection.

On both counts she has made big strides.

So far, she has donated to West Valley police three of seven city cars assigned to her staff and nearly $80,000 in cash from her salary, her office budget and special funds set aside for community cleanup programs in her district.

But she has taken the quest a step further, by tapping residents and private firms to give police their surplus computers, cars, bicycles, high-tech cameras and cash. So many donations have come in that West Valley police are passing donated computers on to other police divisions.

Early in her tenure, Chick made the motion to lift the hiring freeze for police officers, on some level, but not necessarily a pledge to provide full city funding. That misunderstanding was a key lesson of the first year, she said.

“What I’ve learned is how important it is to stay uncommitted until I’ve reviewed all the information,” she said.

In City Hall, Chick has gained a reputation as a lawmaker willing to go against the grain even when it means angering fellow council members.

For example, she ruffled some feathers last week when she led a move to permit the operation of a child-care center in Bernson’s Northridge-based district--a project Bernson himself opposed.

Bernson and others protested, saying City Hall’s unwritten rule is that the council as a whole should support individual council members on neighborhood land-use issues because they know what is best for their district.

“It’s important to respect each other,” Bernson said in an interview later. “If you want consideration, you have to give that to others.”

Chick, who ultimately won the dispute when the council approved her proposal for the child-care center, said the incident showed that she is willing to break from the ranks when she feels strongly about an issue.

“If the definition of a maverick is that I don’t silently acquiesce to rules that other people have made in times before me . . . then I’m a maverick,” she said.

Alarcon, a photogenic 40-year-old former schoolteacher with a smooth speaking ability, beat out several strong candidates in June, 1993, to fill the vacant seat of retiring council veteran Ernani Bernardi.

He inherited a tough challenge: the revitalization of the 7th District’s decaying neighborhoods, ailing industrial zones and poorly maintained streets and parks.

Alarcon began quickly to try to spark an economic revival by exploring establishment of a redevelopment project in Pacoima, a risky proposal because of the criticism that redevelopment projects have generated elsewhere in the city.

He also has spearheaded a so far unsuccessful effort to find a new occupant for the vacant General Motors plant in Panorama City, and is often commended for taking a lead in the adoption of an ordinance to permit street vending in specific districts.

He managed to get Pacoima included in a proposed “empowerment zone” that could provide up to $100 million in federal aid and tax breaks. And he considers that his greatest accomplishment because of the intense competition from other economically depressed communities in the city. Federal officials will rule on the application in September.

“Everyone said we couldn’t do it,” Alarcon said. “But we believed we could.”

Yaroslavsky said he has been impressed by Alarcon’s work thus far. “He has taken it upon himself to energize a part of the San Fernando Valley that has been neglected in the past,” he said.

The GM plant, on the other hand, has been a source of great frustration to Alarcon. He wants to find a firm to buy the plant and create manufacturing jobs there. He has met regularly with GM representatives and potential buyers to try to broker a deal. But the effort has been hampered, he said, in large part by the recession.

If, in the remainder of his four-year term, Alarcon succeeds at getting the GM plant occupied, he believes that will outshine any of his other accomplishments.

“That would be the biggest victory,” he said.

Still, his efforts on other, more successful, fronts have won him compliments from constituents.

For example, Phyllis Hines, a member of the Lake View Terrace Improvement Assn., commended Alarcon for taking steps toward meeting his campaign promise to build a library in her neighborhood.

Last month, Alarcon persuaded the council to set aside $1 million for the creation of a Lake View Terrace library. The money would come from a trust fund created by the city to compensate neighbors for the continued use of the nearby Lopez Canyon Landfill, a city-operated trash dump.

“We are just thrilled that he has taken a very strong stance” on the library, Hines said.

But Alarcon’s greatest challenge may be the one that generates the greatest controversy: the closure of the Lopez Canyon dump.

Residents in his district have long complained about the landfill’s trash, noise and odor and have looked forward to the dump’s closure when its operating permit expires in 1996.

Alarcon was as stunned as many of the dump’s neighbors in March when a draft report from city sanitation officials recommended extending the life of the dump to the year 2000. The extension would save up to $72 million annually compared to the cost of hauling trash to more remote sites, the report said.

Last month, Alarcon made a motion before the council to halt all city efforts to extend the life of the landfill and instead examine long-term alternatives to dumping in Lopez Canyon.

But some city officials have criticized Alarcon’s actions, saying that many of the alternatives--such as using other landfills in the region or hauling the waste by rail to remote locations--could cost the city more.

Chick, who heads the council’s environmental quality committee, said she plans to vote against Alarcon’s motion to halt efforts to extend the life of the landfill.

“Richard’s perspective on this comes from his community and his constituents and I admire that,” she said. “But my perspective is very different. . . . One of my big concerns is what is this going to cost and where is the money coming from?”

Alarcon disputes sanitation officials’ estimates of the cost of closing the landfill, saying the exact cost of alternatives will not be known until the city receives bid proposals from private sanitation firms.

Eighty percent of the city’s trash currently ends up in landfills in Alarcon’s district, and he said he will spend much of his second year in office trying to keep the city from dumping on his constituents.

“I’ve always believed the best way I can help the city is to help my district and improve my district,” Alarcon said.