Erasing Stigmas From the Past : Youths: A tattoo removal clinic lets former gang members and others begin new lives.

The gang tattoos that earned Brett Williamson the stamp of macho respectability on the streets of Oxnard turned into a mark of ostracism when he tried to clean up his act and enter the world of work.

Williamson, 18, now wants to be an electrician, not a gang member. But every time he goes for a job interview, he said, employers glance disapprovingly at the crude dots etched on his hands--the symbol of the gang motto “mi vida loca, “ or “my crazy life.”

“You can’t get a good job with these,” Williamson said. “I was just trying to show the gang I was down with them. I didn’t really think what would happen to me later. I gotta get rid of these things.”

Williamson and about 40 other young people Thursday took advantage of a new tattoo removal clinic staffed by volunteer doctors and nurses at the Port Hueneme Boys & Girls Club.

The daylong clinic--which organizers hope to expand to a permanent program--was conceived to allow those age 22 and younger to excise the damning scars of gang affiliation.

“So often a person’s past gets in the way of their future,” said ex-pro football star Chuck Muncie, executive director of the Port Hueneme Boys & Girls Club. “This is an opportunity for these kids to remove a barrier and get on with their lives.”

Although the laser removal costs participants nothing, it is not entirely free: They must perform 40 hours of community service before going under the needle-like beam a second time to complete the treatments.

“People need to take responsibility for their lives,” said Chris Landon, director of pediatrics for Ventura County Medical Center. “This program isn’t, ‘Come in, we’ll take care of you.’ These young people have to perform services.”

And it is certainly not free for organizers. Even with volunteer labor, the clinic costs $1,500 a day--the cost to rent the laser machine.

The money for Thursday’s clinic came from A Helping Hand Foundation. The nonprofit group will also fund a second clinic, tentatively scheduled for Thousand Oaks, and has agreed to pay for a third event if organizers can raise money for a fourth. County Supervisor Frank Schillo, who helped start the program last year, said he is working with other officials to rent the laser machine for more dates. He is also asking business leaders to contribute.

Not everyone at Thursday’s clinic was looking to erase gang tattoos. Silvia Ayala, for instance, never joined a gang. Instead, she fell in love.

With some string, a hot needle and a bottle of ink, the 20-year-old Port Hueneme resident got her first tattoo on her middle finger when she was 14. When she had children at 16 and 18, she added more tattoos, including an etching of her boyfriend’s name above her right breast.

“Even that same day I started regretting it,” she said. Ayala married her boyfriend, but they are already separated. The tattoos are a reminder of a youthful mistake, she said. It pleases her to have them burned off.

Ralph Rios, 18, said the tattoos on his hand and leg were a stupid mistake. But the Oxnard resident said the gang life they represent is a valid lifestyle.

“I’m not quitting gangs,” said Rios, wearing a sweat shirt in honor of Pedro Madueno, the 16-year-old Oxnard youth killed last month in a gang-related shooting. “I’m in it for life.”

When he was just 11 years old, Rios said, he sloppily etched the letters BROWN into his upper leg with a tattoo machine.

“It was supposed to be BROWN PRIDE, but my mom snagged me and took the tattoo machine away,” he said.

Ana Garcia has decided she wants to be a defense lawyer. But the 16-year-old Port Hueneme resident has a few things to take care--a high school diploma, a law school degree, and the gang tattoos on her wrist and middle finger. “I started thinking about my future,” she said. “I want to go into criminal law. Tattoos are not a good idea.”