PSU Magazine Winter 1995

part of the majority cu lture , and who don't fee l they can sh are in the succe of that culture through esta hli ·hed means," says Jo lin. White kid , even though they arc part of what Jolin calls the majority culture, can feel just as left out as African Americans, Hi panics, and Asian if they suffer economi c h ardship or have trouble at home or chool. And they can feel just as hostil e toward th e world around them. Hence the White Supremac ists and kinhead ·, who band togeth er in their common h atred for people of other races. Jo lin says white kids have been involved in gang activity for years, but they somehow avoid being identified as such. "They're white, they're not a· easily identifiable, and we don't expect them to be ga ngs," she says. "White gangs don't rai e the same alarm bells because we don't see them as belonging to the oppre sed minority. They are the ame color as the peop le who are making it in this country." In this ense, they're lucky. Jolin says one of the trongest perpetuator of gang membership is being labeled as a gang member by law en forcement agenc ies, whether or not it's true. When a police officer sees a boy walking down the street with a gang member, he may note that the boy is gang-affiliated , says Jo lin. lf that same child is later ca ught st aling a candy bar, the act is seen as a gang-activity crime rather than a kid-activity crime, "which all of us have done," she adds. That child now h as an official record and is off on a erious ca reer. Jo lin says the o ld adage th at it rnkes an entire community to raise a ch ild is at the root of heading off gang memher– ship. The same philosophy is at the core of the House of Umoja in northeast Portland , which provides act ivities for kids who live in close proximity to gangs, and hou ing for up to 15 young men who arc trying to get out of gangs. House ofUmoja (which means "unity" in Swahili) deals primarily with Afri ca n Ameri can youth. While personnel he lp kids link up with drug and alcohol counse lling-i f needed– they also form a tight bond with them and teach the bas ics of getting along lawfully in the community. "These kids need to be hearing what part African Americans play in this thing ca lled life," says Executive Director Johnny Gage. "These kids uffer deeply from esteem ruff. I don't think it's by co incidence that when an African American kid in a gang points a pistol to commit a murder, that he points it at someone who looks ju t like him." The House ofUmoja recently received a grant to start a similar hou e in Hillsboro for Hispani c youth, called La Casa El Futuro: "The House of the Future," says Gage. The Portland Police Bureau is doing its part to stem the tide by tak ing a leadership role in programs such as GREAT-Gang Resistance Education and Training. The program is aimed at grade school ch ildren and teaches se lf esteem and pushes the message thm gangs are a threat to per ona l survival and not a substitute for fa mil y. Officers also are invo lved with drug educat ion programs and orga ni zed ac ti\'iti es with young people. Portland Po lice C hi ef Charles Moose MPA '84, PhD '94 moved his family to the heart of ga ng territory in northeast Portland a year ago to show support for the area. "I'm not say ing it will stop gangs, but my wife and I have h ad some luck in scn ·ing as role mode ls," he says. At the ame time, the burea u is cracki ng down on ga ng related crimes, a are other police agencies. The ir most recen t weapon is the Racketeer Influenced and Corrur t Organ i:ation (RICO) Act, which \\'as enacted in 1970 to cripple the Mafia. In its first wave in No\'ember, police ch arged 17 you ng gang members with racketeering-defined as committing or consp iring to commit a pattern of crimes as part of a group. The crime carries a maximum prison sentence of 20 years and/or a $300,000 fine. Although h ard time ma y prove to be a deterrent, Jo lin keeps pointing back to a need by soc iety to nurture its yo uth in order to keep them out of gang . For h er this means parent::. spending quality time with their kids, workers ha\' ing ready access to high-qua lity child care, and eve ryon e hav ing access to hea lth insurance, adequate hou ing, and a feel ing of dignity and self worth. "Th e criminal justice sy-tem can 't do it. The crimina l justice system makes a lousy parent," she says. D (Jolin Kirkland, a Portland freelance writer, is a reg11lar contributor to PSU Magazine.) WINTER 1995 11