Victims Caution Youths About Perils at Home

Juan Moreno leaned forward in his wheelchair and offered what he hoped would be lifesaving words to a crowd of youngsters seated around him.

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“When I was 12, I was shot,” said the 22-year-old, who is paralyzed from the waist down. “It was no drive-by. I was shot by my little brother.”

Moreno, an East Los Angeles College student, was trying to warn 50 “at risk” youngsters from throughout Southern California that for all the talk about danger on the streets, avoidable violence often happens inside the home.

He was one of three people injured--either physically or emotionally--by gun violence who came to the Airport Marriott to speak to youth about how to avoid becoming an “innocent bystander.” About 500 young people whose families receive housing subsidies had journeyed there by bus for a daylong “youth summit,” sponsored by the nonprofit Assisted Housing Management Assn.

For most of the day, the youngsters learned a variety of urban survival skills, from cooking to steering clear of street crime.

But in one conference room, the talk was about the dangers children face once they are supposedly safe at home.

“You don’t have to go through this,” said Moreno, who explained that his brother accidentally shot him in the chest when he confused a real rifle with a toy. “Stay away from the gun.”

When the audience was asked how many knew where guns were kept at home, nearly a quarter of their hands went up. One girl later spoke up about a personal experience: “One day at a friend’s house, she put a gun on me,” she said. “I was scared.”

At one point, the talk turned to more deliberate violence, as educators and youngsters themselves told the children that they should tell teachers or other authority figures if they are physically abused at home.

As she was growing up near Sacramento, said 14-year-old speaker Lorena Casillas, her alcoholic father went into and out of jail often. His violent outbursts grew more intense until he began to threaten her with a gun. “I was scared to get somebody to help me,” she said.

Then on Christmas two years ago, Casillas said, her mother confronted her father. Casillas heard arguing and then gunshots. Her father shot her mother three times, killing her, and then killed himself.

Casillas, who now lives in Compton with relatives, says she can’t help thinking that if she had done something sooner, her parents might still be alive.

“When you don’t tell somebody, you can’t be helped,” Casillas said, holding a stack of cards with the phone number of a teen hot line on them.

George Modica, a 28-year-old paralyzed from the waist down by gunfire, said that, for some youngsters who have suffered abuse, hearing from others might help them open their minds and their mouths.