At 5 a.m. my bed began to shake. Suddenly the whole room started shifting and moving, like a ship in a big storm. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and remembered I was in Los Angeles. It didn't take long to realize that I was experiencing my first earthquake.
A small delegation from the World Council of Churches and an "urban strategy committee" named by the National Council of Churches USA had come to LA. We were there to listen and act accordingly. The startling symbolism of the quake was an appropriate beginning to several days of conversation in the City of Angels, where events just weeks before had shaken the nation.
In a dilapidated junior high school, surrounded by the huge housing projects where the famous Crips and Bloods street gangs were born, several of us sat in a large circle with more than a dozen gang members, ranging in age from 13 to 18. Looking into their faces, I was struck that these were the young black men of whom America is so afraid. Certainly, young men like these and their counterparts in neighborhoods like my own have shown themselves capable of terrible violence. Yet sitting there, they looked so very young and vulnerable.
Members of both the Crips and Bloods testified that the "rebellion" after the Simi Valley verdict was not the most important event. Rather, it was when the gangs stopped fighting--"when the young black males finally began putting their heads and hearts together." That began to happen even before the verdict. "'Truce' is a media word," said one young brother. "It really is a coming together." One after another, they described this as the "most important historical event for African-American males."
The profound alienation of being young, black, and male in the abandoned inner city was evident throughout our conversation. Stories of constant police harassment, even since the "truce," peppered the discussion. As one young man noted, you "can't trust nobody who keeps degrading you." The connection to slavery was very strong in the consciousness of these young men. "We won't be slaves anymore."
Many said that gangs were "the only thing happening" in their communities. "All your friends are in gangs and you are too." "There's nothing else to do down here." "We don't have any positive role models." "We don't have plumbers, teachers, even shoe shine men in our families."
Feelings of betrayal ran deep. "The system told us that if we stayed in school, were nonviolent, grew up, got a job--we would get a piece. Didn't happen."
For years, these young men and thousands like them have been "stealin' and killin' 'cause that's all we knew." But now, they told us, "We woke up. It just didn't make sense to keep killing each other anymore." And, one brother added, "We don't want our community to be on the bottom all the time."
These were not young criminals who had decided to play it straight, but young men identifying the sources of their community's problems and deciding to do something. Fifteen-year-old black males were talking about the world they wanted to create for their children and grandchildren. I have heard such talk among the young in Central America and South Africa, but not often from the marginalized youth of American inner cities. I wondered if this might be the beginning of a more political consciousness among those young men whose number and influence could make them a. very significant factor in our cities.
Though they feel abandoned by the church, they said, "We need churches to help us find ourselves spiritually. A lot of us have habits in our lives that only God can cure." They virtually pleaded with us, "We've been trying to find God for so long. All we need for our churches to do is take us to the Lord." They challenged the church leaders, "Could you imagine the power of a group of missionaries from our churches walking among our young people?"
Later in the week, I was given the "Bloods/Crips Proposal For LA's Facelift." Its recommendations for rebuilding LA are thorough and far-reaching. They're some of the best proposals I've seen so far and are greatly superior to the ideas coming from the official city rebuilding commission, the White House, and Congress.
"Don't rebuild LA the way it was," they told us. "Revitalize and restore the hope of the people, and the people will rebuild LA." Somehow, hope has arisen here in a place where most would have never considered it possible. It is not coming from any outside institution (including the church), but from somewhere within them and their reality. The former gang member who organized the meeting quoted the words, "Hope is the evidence of things not seen."
A consistent message emerged throughout the discussions: "People need to learn to have faith in young black males. Black men have been a target for years. We need others to believe in us, risk something on us. All we want to do is have a chance to serve."
Perhaps it's time to act in ways that give young black men some faith in the rest of us.
Jim Wallis is editor-in-chief of Sojourners.
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