Cultural Crusader : Ricardo R. Melendez visits Latino communities determined to teach young people about their heritage.

His Spartan black-and-white calling card says it all: Ricardo R. Melendez, Cultural Warrior.

Armed only with a buckhorn-crowned walking stick and the knowledge in his head, the longhaired 41-year-old is waging the war of his life--fighting the forces of cultural conformity to teach Latino youngsters their rich heritage.

“We’re floating around without roots,” Melendez said. “Part of the problem is that people don’t know about their culture. I try to sow seeds of knowledge in the young people.”

The grass-roots crusader visits predominantly Latino neighborhoods throughout Ventura County and talks to young people about everything from Aztec society to the Los Angeles Zoot Suit Riots of 1943. It is a legacy Melendez himself is still discovering.

Eight years ago, a drunk driver barreled into Melendez’s motor scooter from behind. He lost his right leg, and his left leg was badly damaged.

Despite being a ninth-generation Ventura resident with one-eighth Chumash blood, Melendez knew little about his heritage at the time. But the accident forced him to look inward, and there he found his culture.

“In the ‘50s and ‘60s, we weren’t taught about Mexican history,” Melendez said. “We were told we shouldn’t speak our language. So I grew up English-speaking and anglicized.

“I basically had a near-death experience. I didn’t know what to do with my life. I needed something else, and I found it. It was my culture. It was a self-esteem I had been missing all along.”

Melendez enrolled in Chicano and Native American studies courses at Ventura College, reading and soaking up everything he could on thousands of years of history.

Three years ago, he began giving talks to Latino teen-agers about their origins, emphasizing the cultural links between Mexican Americans and Native Americans.

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At first, Melendez said, he encountered skepticism and outright disdain from young people who said the harsh reality of their present lives left little reason for them to ponder their ancestry.

“The people in our barrios are surviving the best they can, so they say, ‘Why should I listen to you? Who do you think you are?’ ” he said. “But when I start to see smiles and they ask me questions, and I’m at the level of being friends with them, I know the walls have come down.”

Melendez counsels “at-risk” youth with El Concilio del Condado de Ventura and lectures public-housing residents for the Oxnard Housing Authority.

Last week he spoke to adolescents from the Colonia Junior Youth Council in Oxnard. In a 30-minute conversation, Melendez managed to ramble through a period of history from Native Americans’ migration across the Bering Strait thousands of years ago to Proposition 187 and Gov. Pete Wilson before popping in a video of Edward James Olmos’ “Zoot Suit.”

“Since 1492, when Columbus bumped into this land, we’ve started to forget who we are,” he told the small audience, clutching the walking stick covered with feathers and furs. “Our history is not just a few hundred years old. It goes back to warriors and strong women and children. Your people--our people--have been here thousands of years.”

At first, the youngsters seemed more interested in the pizza and ice cream before them than ancient temples and civilizations. But as Melendez spoke, the questions slowly came.

“I want to know about my great-grandparents, how they lived, what kind of clothes they wore,” said 12-year-old Victoria Martinez. “All I learn in school is the Greeks. Greeks, Greeks, Greeks for three months.”

Melecio Cardona, 13, said he was confused by the colorful clothes in “Zoot Suit” and wondered whether people ever dressed that way.

“It was kind of nice but kind of strange,” Melecio said. “Did they really do that?”

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By the end, the youngsters thanked Melendez and hoped he would return. A few said they now wanted to take Chicano-history courses when they reached high school.

“Our parents, some of them don’t have an education, so they can’t teach us what our culture is about,” said 15-year-old Adriana Aguilar. “It helps a lot for him to come here and talk.”

As he leaned on his stick and walked on his prosthetic leg toward the door, Melendez encouraged the youngsters to continue speaking Spanish. And he told them to never forget where they came from, because their roots are one of the few things in life that no one can take from them.

“You step out there, one corner is a liquor store, on another there’s a pusher,” Melendez said, pointing out the window to the La Colonia barrio. “There’s more to our history than this.”