Private Struggles in Public Housing
The plan, as Roberta Marie Williams sees it, requires escaping from within the black gates of San Fernando Gardens.
The 17-year-old single mother has lived at the public housing project since age 2. She acknowledges that it is not so terribly trash-ridden, that the city runs numerous programs to help tenants find jobs and that you can avoid the drug dealers if you mind your own business.
But Roberta still feels trapped by poverty at the development, the only major public housing project in the San Fernando Valley. That fact, coupled with federal welfare reforms enacted last year that will shrink government relief checks nationwide, has her hustling.
She recently enrolled at Mission College and started working part-time at a nearby Jack-in-the-Box restaurant, which she fears may affect the portion of the $700 a month in public assistance she shares with her mother, her 21-month-old daughter and three others in the household.
“They’re already threatening to cut people’s checks,” said Roberta, who graduated from San Fernando High School in June. “If they cut welfare, I don’t know what I’d do.”
For Roberta Marie Williams and others at the 446-unit development next to Whiteman Airport, like thousands of tenants at the 20 other public housing projects run by the city Housing Authority, getting ahead in the age of welfare reform will mean overcoming daunting obstacles such as sorting out a new set of rules.
This month, California won the biggest share--$189 million--of a $1.1-billion federal jobs fund to employ welfare recipients with few job skills and little, if any, work experience. The award will be coordinated with the state’s new $6-billion-a-year welfare program called CalWorks.
Still, how many recipients can succeed under a five-year lifetime cap on benefits remains to be seen. Thousands of residents lost their food stamps as of Sept. 1.
“Most of the people are not job- ready,” said Don J. Smith, executive director of the Housing Authority. “What we’re trying to do is stay real close to the action.”
For Smith, the action includes whatever employment efforts occur between project management and tenants citywide, as well as with legislators in Washington, D.C., and Sacramento.
The authority’s 21 projects house 35,000 people.
San Fernando Gardens, built in 1955 to assist low-income families, houses 1,738 of those tenants. Its 81 buildings sit on 33 1/2 acres bordered by Van Nuys Boulevard, Pierce Street, and Norris and Pala avenues.
Just about every family there struggles. Average household income for a family of four is $11,890 per year, compared to the $47,500 median family income for the region. Almost 40% of the project’s families receive welfare assistance.
Some residents--Roberta is one--cannot afford phones. Some need handouts to buy clothes for job interviews.
Filemon de la Hoya, who recently lost about $190 per month in food stamps that helped him feed his wife and four youngest children, sat outside his apartment one afternoon wondering what to do next.
A legal immigrant from Mexico, he makes about $5.50 per hour working at a golf-club factory. “These cuts are drastic,” De la Hoya, 49, said in Spanish.
Like many others at San Fernando Gardens, where the tenant population is 96% Latino, he views his job opportunities as limited by his difficulty with English.
It is precisely such pessimism that prompted the Housing Authority to open its multipurpose community center on Lehigh Avenue three years ago. One of five opened citywide so far, the center’s purpose is to help a steady stream of residents of all ages who are seeking a better life.
Inside, tenants practice computer skills, meet with tutors or receive counseling or job training. Children also practice folkloric dance or take karate lessons.
Soon, a new child-care center and playground will make it easier for parents to look for jobs.
Mario Matute, the community center’s project director, spoke earnestly about how services at the center help prepare residents for work and increase self-esteem.
“What we’ve done is make personal connections with people,” he said. “I tell them, ‘Look, if you’re not doing anything, come to the community service center.’ You have to give people the opportunity to change.”
But Matute also is frustrated that even when residents find work, the wages are often too low for them to leave welfare rolls. In addition, many employers will not hire residents with only basic job skills, he said.
“I wish I would meet an employer who would tell me, ‘I have 10 or 15 positions. Send me some people,’ ” Matute said. “I haven’t found that employer yet.”
Single mother Roberta, an aspiring probation officer who turns 18 Friday, was one of the relatively lucky ones helped by the center. About a month ago, she found part-time work making $5.35 per hour at the fast-food eatery after the manager was contacted by center caseworker Glenda Taylor.
“I’m trying to save up money to get out of here--to move out,” she said. “I’ve never lived in an apartment with an air conditioner. I’ve always been here.”
But serious obstacles exist even for motivated tenants like Roberta. She cannot be reached by telephone, which makes job searches especially difficult. She currently relies on her mother for daughter Marla Marie’s day care as a cost-saving measure.
Matute believes that if the poor lose hope, far more social problems will result. Efforts to curb crime, currently part of the city’s attempts to improve the quality of life at the development, will suffer as people become more desperate, he said.
The theory is that drug dealing and gang activity within the housing development only depress residents further and distract them from studying, working and otherwise trying to move off welfare rolls.
Charles Dempsey, a senior lead officer with the LAPD’s Foothill Division, said police have been more zealously enforcing trespassing rules and a 10 p.m. curfew for youths under 18.
“There is a gang problem there. They’ve got a lot of drug dealing going on,” Dempsey said. “We try to keep them from vandalizing the units and the playgrounds. Most people in there are hard-working people.”
Mike Kalinowski, the project’s housing manager, said that in the past couple of years, there have been 14 evictions related to drugs or other illegal activities. Several other tenants suspected of wrongdoing moved away on their own, he said.
During the same time, four new play areas were built at the complex. Three more are expected before the end of the year.
Despite rough spots like peeling paint, the project has newly paved streets, security fences and landscaping. An apartment-modernization project is also underway as part of the authority’s attempt to improve residents’ job prospects by improving their surroundings.
Smith, the authority’s executive director, said San Fernando Gardens is among the three or four city housing projects with the best conditions. Reasons include tenant initiative, city programs and some job availability, he said.
Indeed, at San Fernando Gardens, 41% of the families have employed heads of households, compared to 29% for the 8,500 families at all 21 developments. The average annual family income amounts to about $1,500 more than the $10,380 average for families throughout the system.
“They’re a little bit ahead of the game,” Smith said. “They’re up in the B-plus category. I don’t have any in A.”
The often quiet development at times buzzes with outdoor activity. Music coming from some of the apartments ranges from ranchera to hip-hop.
Children come and go from Pacoima Elementary School or Guardian Angel School. Teenagers stroll through on their way to David M. Gonzales Park. The Bookmobile, or Biblioteca Ambulante, parks along Lehigh Avenue. And vendors pedal wagons filled with sweets and drinks along the winding project roads.
The rhythm of life seems excruciatingly slow in some cases, more rapid-fire in others.
One recent morning, an elderly woman sat outside, soaking her feet in a sky-blue kiddie pool, barely looking up to notice what was going on around her.
On another day, a senior citizen drew a crowd as she sold lemonade, sandwiches, tamales, nachos and sweets placed on a folding table in a shady spot off Norris Avenue.
“I sell cheap and I help people,” said Sister Andrea Baeza, 82, a nun at Guardian Angel Church. “When the Lord needs me, I’m there.”
The next afternoon, a half-dozen teenage boys, most in baggy clothes and close-cropped hair, weaved their way through the development on foot.
Several insisted that the biggest problem with living at San Fernando Gardens is dealing with unwarranted police pressure. They said that contrary to popular belief, they were not gang members or drug dealers. Most said they were students eager to land good jobs.
“We live here. They take advantage of the power they have,” said David Diaz, 17, referring to police. “We’re just like regular kids.”
Jessie Carillo, 16, said being treated badly was a byproduct of living in the development.
“They consider us low-class,” he said.
The development itself is fairly free of the familiar markings associated with public housing, especially graffiti. Old cars do line the curbs. Many are banged up.
De la Hoya sat outside his Carl Street apartment and pointed to his severely dented 1977 Mercury Cougar, disgusted that he has no way to repair it.
“I’m old. Where can I go?” he said. “In Mexico, it’s more difficult than here.”
Across the complex, Rosa Valencia, 37, and her husband, Jesus, 38, a machine operator earning about $12,000 a year, talked about finding new ways to provide food for their five children. The couple, who are legal immigrants, recently lost nearly $250 per month in food stamps and other aid.
“I need it, but perhaps there are others who need it more,” Rosa said in Spanish. “At least my husband works.”
The Valencias expect Rosa to make some money baby-sitting, while Jesus hunts for odd jobs to supplement his salary. There are no other immediate solutions.
“We’re poor,” Jesus Valencia said.
