Making a Pitch for a Better Life

You could judge this suburb in a drive-by glimpse: the cholos throwing cold stares from the sidewalk, the tangle of gang graffiti on fences and posts, the men bent under the hoods of keeling old trucks.

You could decide that the only things notable in Valinda, this unincorporated San Gabriel Valley community next to La Puente and West Covina, are crime and poverty.

But sit with Emma Quezada on the splintered blue bleachers of Northam Elementary School, home of Rowland Little League, and you’ll get a different view of a county backwater that usually makes news for gang shootings.

For Quezada, who coaches her two daughters’ softball teams, Valinda is where Latin American immigrants and inner city refugees climb the first rung into suburbia. And the baseball field is where they embrace an American pastime, hoping to assimilate and launch their children into the middle class.

“It helps them not just in softball but their whole life,” said Quezada, an East Los Angeles native and mother of four whose husband and parents are Mexican immigrants.

With her suburban dream rooted firmly in the baseball diamond, all of Valinda’s urban woes are just passing scenery as Quezada, 34, drives a load of kids to school or practice in her sagging white minivan.

As a coach, Quezada spends much of her time pitching the merits of organized sports to other parents just struggling to get by. She said it can be a difficult sell, especially to those from rural Mexico. Often, she says, they don’t understand the risks idle youths face here on the streets, or don’t view sports as a proper activity for girls.

“We have to let them know that girls can get into just as much trouble as boys do,” she said. “The difference is that boys get in trouble for shooting and killing. The girls have babies.”

Crime is a major concern among the 18,735 people living in this disjointed, 1.8-square-mile strip, where three-fourths of the predominantly working-class population owns homes. Parts of Valinda are solidly middle class.

The issue of safety is most critical in the heavily Latino eastern section, where Quezada lives. Last year, there were 45 assaults with deadly weapons but no murders, sheriff’s statistics show. The department installed a third gang unit earlier this year and says crime is slowly ebbing.

Still lacking, however, is the presence of a local government or a cluster of nonprofit organizations that help form the backbone of other Latino areas such as East Los Angeles, say United Way officials.

Even without such help, Quezada’s enthusiasm has attracted a following of parents, many of whom schedule their work around their children’s games and come to cheer in Spanish.

“When they grow up, they’re never going to forget that you gave up your precious time,” said Maria Renteria, whose second-eldest daughter, 14, plays on Quezada’s team.

But many don’t have the option of tinkering with work schedules to attend afternoon games. Some team parents have difficulties even buying their children’s uniforms and paying the $50 sign-up fee.

Whatever the sacrifice, the parents who are active supporters cling to the belief that raising ambitious, clean-cut kids includes making sure a girl can look up from the field and see her parents in the stands.

One mother said she began enrolling her daughters in softball when they began hanging out with gang members and getting an attitude.

Another parent, Juan Coria, said he rarely went to his 13-year-old daughter Monica’s games. But he gradually saw how the sport helped instill a sense of pride in her that comes with setting and going after goals. Now he helps coach.

“I want to support her and let her know she’s not alone,” said Coria, 41. “Every day, [we] rush to get to the game.”

Coria delivers packages all morning around Pomona while his wife, Maria, works on an assembly line. They both work morning shifts so they can make it to Monica’s games.

They say her grades are high and they are increasingly confident that she will go to a top university.

“I encourage her to go out and know she can do all things,” her father said.

He doesn’t believe the social and economic woes in Valinda will be an obstacle. He said they are nothing compared to the blight the family encountered in the inner city. Indeed, he fled far more despair in his muddy hometown in the mountains of Michoacan, Mexico, and dealt with gangs and violence on the streets of Santa Ana.

When they moved to Valinda, the Corias pooled their money with other family members to buy a house. Later, they purchased their own home. Although they know the area has problems, they say it’s still a nice, quiet place.

Many residents say they view moving to Valinda as a step toward more affluent areas.

The Quezadas worked hard to get here and they want to stay, although they can see their children moving farther into suburbia. Emma Quezada’s husband, Juan, was born in rural Mexico and began working as a dishwasher in downtown L.A.

In 1989, the family bought their current home after living in a gang-infested neighborhood in Montebello. Juan works as head of banquets at the Regent Beverly Wilshire Hotel and does ironwork on the side.

At one time, when Emma was working full time in real estate, they planned to move to a bigger house in more upscale Diamond Bar. But then they decided it would be better to be more involved in their children’s lives.

Quezada said she is now content trying to improve the area by recruiting as many children as she can into Little League.

“We’re really happy with this neighborhood,” she said. “We just need a bigger house.”