A Reborn Peacemaker Dies Trying to Help Others Escape Gang Life

When I got the phone call early Sunday morning, the irony stung almost as much as the loss. “Ringo”--Sigfredo Rivera--a beacon of light to so many gang youth seeking a way out of violence, had been killed in El Salvador by three gunshots to the chest. Had death come to Mohandas Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr. early in their careers we might tell their stories much like that of this Salvadoran citizen who grew up on the streets of Los Angeles. A child of two unjust worlds, educated in the necessity of violence, Ringo had tirelessly pursued a peaceful end to international gang violence for the last of his 29 years.

Ringo was one of thousands of refugee children in the 1980s who fled the brutal U.S.-sponsored civil war in El Salvador and settled with or without their families in Los Angeles. Refugee parents worked long hours at minimum-wage jobs and lacked the resources and time to address their grief or nurture their children.

Ironically, Salvadoran children found themselves in L.A. war zones, divided up and marked with graffiti by the street gangs who claimed their ownership. Many kids joined gangs in search of protection, respect, identity, good times and the comfort of family. They racked up arrests, criminal records and prison time. Ringo used to joke that he got his high school diploma on the street, but his PhD in prison. When he hit his turning point, he was a mature but angry-looking kid with a pencil-thin mustache and an X-ray glare whose nickname came from a sharpshooter in an old cowboy flick.

By the time he completed his prison term in California, peace had been declared in El Salvador. Like thousands of others, Ringo was scapegoated by the anti-immigrant sentiment following the “three strikes” law, Proposition 187 and Pete Wilson’s jingoism. He was deported about two years ago back to El Salvador, where L.A. gangs had begun to take root.

Ringo was recruited directly from the San Salvador airport by thuggish looking scouts from Homies Unidos, a nongovernmental organization for violence prevention among youth. It is composed of and run by rival gang members and coordinated by veteran human rights activist Magdaleno Rose-Avila, former head of the Cesar Chavez Foundation. Homies Unidos also has a sibling chapter in Los Angeles to empower gang youth with skills and hope. In an amazingly brief period, Ringo effected profound change throughout the disenfranchised gang community in El Salvador. He rose from silent observer to board member to director of the agency, maintaining patience, genuine camaraderie and the ability to listen to others.

Along with his co-workers, Ringo implemented effective programs. He earned trust and support from chiefs of police, religious leaders, ambassadors and foreign journalists. And more challenging still, he won over street kids, prostitutes and gun-toting kingpins. Ringo took the most pride when new gangs entered the peace process or when missing members were strong enough to walk back into the office after a relapse. His tastes were simple and his convictions rock hard. His grammar was atrocious and his penmanship immaculate. Ringo had recently begun a course in human relations at the University of Central America in San Salvador.

He had laid down his weapons as an example to others, rivals and carnales (homeboys) who often sat in the same room with him, carrying concealed guns. As a veteran gangster, he presumed his life was short; he lived with immediacy and purpose. At a meeting with Ringo in an disinfected, air-conditioned board room, I watched him challenge a table of fancy-titled luminaries to push through barriers and implement change rather than spending precious time planning for the next meeting.

As in the cases of Gandhi and King, the “who” and “why” of Ringo’s murder point more to major social issues than any one person. Ringo would not want people to waste time on the minute details. Violence builds from the hum of poverty, abuse and discrimination to a crescendo of physical acting out. It builds from fear.

Gandhi and King both faced the ultimate peril of being nonviolent warriors when they were assassinated while creating social change. The loss of Ringo’s practical and visionary presence devastates us, but his legacy will live on. My hope is that the new generation of activists can create a world where nonviolence breeds only justice and peace.