Day 2: Watts

I was apprehensive upon waking for my second full day on project. An “outreach” was planned in the South Central Los Angeles neighborhood known as Watts, one of the toughest and most feared areas in L.A.
We left for Watts in the vans. I was unsure of what to expect, all I knew was the notorious nature of the neighborhood. I was a little apprehensive, but far from scared. I had a strange peaceful sensation about the day ahead. A group known as Athletes In Action was putting on a sports camp for kinds in the troubled Nickerson Gardens housing project. We arrived at the neighborhood to the sight of a typical inner city scene with looks of discontent, or determination, on the faces people who glanced our way. We unpacked the vans after parking at the humble (but not hopeless) looking projects. I moved around to different areas, trying to find things to do. The Athletes in Action arrived a little later than expected so things started slowly.
The children, and some adults, mostly African-American with the occasional member of a Hispanic group, began to trickle into the modest park that stands in the middle of the project. The children appear innocent enough when you observe them, just like other kids. Only by talking to them would you learn the difficulties that the neighborhood presents them.
After a slow hour passed a few project members and I were sent around the immediate neighborhood to tell people about the gathering in the park. We were warned however, to avoid the surrounding streets. In my naivety I wondered how bad they could actually be. Walking by the playground, the three girls accompanying my reluctant steps found a little Latina girl, who couldn’t have been older than three or four, who had lost herself in the playground. They were determined to take her back home so I followed. Her home was within sight of the park so I was not overly concerned. The four of us had an interesting conversation with her father, a Hispanic man, probably around 30 years of age.
He told us stories of the neighborhood, warning us that we shouldn’t be there. We were “good people” after all. Of course his concern was valid. He had been shot at the previous night. He watched a man get mugged out in the street; a few days before, a couple of likely gang members had fired at an L.A.P.D. officer as he drove by. He showed us stab wounds on his face that evidenced his troubles. The “eggheads”, he said, were out to get him. “They haven’t messed with you yet?” he asked with amazement, “they always mess with me man”. Such a fear and hatred exists in L.A. between Hispanics and Blacks for reasons which I will explain later. After twenty minutes of fascinating and mildly disturbing conversation with him, we departed and returned to the psychological safety of the park area where the camp was now in full effect and friendly faces marked the landscape.
I found my place with the kids. Mike and I began a sandlot soccer game with the more outgoing ones. My favorite was a sharp 10 year old named James. He has so much potential that is going to be difficult to realize in his surroundings. Another very lovable kid wanted a scorpion on his face at the face painting table…it turns out that is the name of the gang that both his dad and his uncle are involved in. Gang culture permeates Watts, and the kids there are exposed to it at an early age. They are children forced to play adults in a challenging world. The neighborhood seeks to rob them of their childhood and the innocence that is supposed to accompany it.
A few tiring hours later they broke down the camp. Mike, Ryan and I said goodbye to the kids that we had befriended and attempted to show genuine love to. As we left, a marching band was preparing to enter the park gym as a part of a banquet. It was fascinating to see how hard some in the neighborhood were trying to salvage what little they could in their broken community. I left deep in thought. The day had affected me; however, the affect was a positive one. I left happy that I was able to, for a few short hours; spend time with these kids who are caught in the crossfire of a situation that leaves them with great disadvantages.

We returned to the project house for the usual 6 o’clock dinner. The staff had purchased tickets for all who wanted to go see the movie Crash. It is a film that is extremely important. It takes the complex problems of race relations in Los Angeles and somehow condenses it in a remarkably comprehensive fashion into a two hour film. Essentially, the film moves past actions and acts out what many feel and think about the other cultures and ethnicities around them. An amazing film that I definitely recommend…I will write a more thorough review at a later time.