Mission in Crisis

From its humble beginnings in scattered storefronts to its modern high-tech campus at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains, Mission College has served as a symbol of success in the impoverished northeast San Fernando Valley.

Since its founding in 1975, the college has transformed high school dropouts, young mothers, laid-off factory workers, gang-bangers and students unable to afford four-year schools into college graduates, succeeding despite seemingly insurmountable odds.

This week, the campus may be facing its biggest challenge ever, when administrators expect to cut 200 classes, cancel the athletic program, shorten library hours and eliminate special programs for veterans, immigrants and high school students in an effort to close a $2-million budget gap.

But like the working-class people it serves, Mission is poised to fight back from this latest crisis.

“There’s a lot of loyalty to our school,” President William Norlund said last week. “People have found a place where their needs are being met, and they know that we are extremely concerned about their success.”

The concern that Mission remain a beacon of hope extends beyond its tree-lined boundaries and into the suites of political power brokers, where lawmakers such as state Senate candidate and former Assemblyman Richard Katz have fought repeatedly in the Assembly for funding to maintain and expand the college.

City Councilman Richard Alarcon, who represents the area, spoke passionately about the school at a district Board of Trustees meeting Wednesday, calling Mission “an example of the thirst for higher education” in the Valley.

Rep. Howard Berman (D-Mission Hills) and Assemblyman Tony Cardenas (D-Sylmar) also are Mission boosters.

Mission’s Associated Student Organization, a student governing body, has mounted a letter-writing campaign soliciting donations from area businesses to support academic programs and the Citizenship Center, which helps legal immigrants become U.S. citizens, ASO President Alma Martinez said.

And Lee Risemberg, engineering department chairman, said he has raised enough private-sector money over the past 10 years to save the school’s two engineering classes targeted for elimination. The classes are important, he said, because Mission is the only district community college in the Valley to offer an engineering program.

The college counts among its alumni former mayor and current San Fernando Councilwoman Joanne Baltierrez, Pacoima branch senior librarian Lupe Canales, Stanislas County career development specialist Diane Cabral-Higginbotham and San Francisco-based cancer researcher Dr. Bill Forrester.

Although Mission is embraced by the prominent, its roots lay in the community it calls home.

The college welcomes its neighbors to campus for Black History Month and Cinco de Mayo celebrations. Parents drop off their kids at the child development day-care center. Community groups gather in its meeting rooms. And bibliophiles peruse the stacks in the new $12-million Library and Learning Resources Center.

“I like to work here because you get a chance to talk to educated people,” said Kit Srichurat, who sells hot dogs, soda, chips, muffins and nachos to harried students from her cart set up on the campus quadrangle. “[Mission] is important to our community.”

While Mission College is a stable neighbor, its essential role is that of nurturer to downsized workers, frazzled working parents, disabled veterans and recent immigrants who populate the Valley’s poorer corners. They come to Mission at nightfall, seeking a second chance at life.

“We have a lot of older students who come with more baggage and problems,” said Carlos Nava, dean of student services. “But they are serious about coming back, doing well and are scared of failing.”

Loretta Zarlenga, a 40-year-old classical violinist who turned to selling clothes at Nordstrom when music jobs dwindled, said she was a nervous wreck when she attended her first history class last year.

“When I was doing music gigs after I graduated from high school, I didn’t see the point in going to college,” she said. “There is such a difference now. I am able to be focused on my work.”

Stephanie Roth was an aimless 17-year-old after she failed to graduate with the Granada Hills High School Class of 1990. She worked at a restaurant, and after work partied into the wee hours.

While volunteering at a Jewish community center, Roth said, she decided to go back to school, at Mission. The 24-year-old has since earned her high school diploma, an associate’s degree in child development and plans to enroll at Sonoma State University in January.

Still, Roth said she is worried she won’t get all the classes she needs to transfer because of the cutbacks.

“Here I am, inches away from my goal and someone has dug a big hole in the road and hasn’t given me a bridge to cross it,” she said. “My life is going to take a drastic turn, but I can’t take that turn unless I get all my classes next semester. It’s scary.”

Most of the nine campuses in the Los Angeles Community College District, the nation’s largest, are facing similar financial woes. Mission College was particularly hard hit, school officials say, because district allocations have not kept pace with campus growth rates.

Mission’s enrollment was 1,500 in 1975 and peaked at 7,200 in 1991 when the college moved to its current site. Today, there are about 7,000 students, 27 full-time faculty members and 50 to 60 part-time instructors on the 22 1/2-acre campus. School officials project an enrollment drop of 1,000 students as a result of the cuts.

Yet, Mission College is experienced in dealing with challenges head-on.

When General Motors closed its Panorama City assembly plant in 1992, Mission absorbed several laid-off workers who needed to switch from manufacturing to information-age jobs.

“We worked with management and the unions to test workers for placement in classes,” Nava recalled. “GM was generous in allowing employees to receive their salary while coming to school” before the plant completely shut down.

Similarly, after Price Pfister shuttered its Pacoima plant in February, Nava said many laid-off immigrant factory workers flocked to Mission’s English as a second language class to hone their language skills.

When rioting broke out in Panorama City after the acquittal of police officers in the beating of Rodney G. King, tensions were high on the multiracial campus, Nava said.

“The LAPD, administration and students moved quickly to keep calm,” Nava said. “Lieutenants from the Foothill Division came to speak to students at a workshop. They told them to see themselves as college students and as peacemakers in the community.”

Preparing students to take leadership roles in the community is the overarching philosophy at Mission.

“If we lose the opportunity to serve our community, then establishing the college would have been wasteful,” said Nava, who has been at Mission since its inception.

“We have made tremendous inroads here,” he said. “We have been very well-received by the community. We are experiencing growing pains, but we need the opportunity to grow.”