So here I am once more – not so much defending the slain criminals as much as the slain criminal’s family from the onslaught of short-sighted people, that short-change themselves by not taking the time to look a little bit closer at those they despise so much. Who they were and who they are.
It would seem as if none of the parent’s tears are felt or heard by anyone outside of a two to three block radius. Tears not only shed of grief, but also of the ultimate failure – to allow a child to take a wrong path – far beyond their reach and out of their control. Leaving only the parents to blame. As though the child and the parents were somehow the exact same people. That every decision the child makes stems and is directly caused by the parents instead. As though the parent’s are the real criminals and the children were their victims.
It’s always the same, in these types of situations, whether the child was or was not “gang affiliated”. The unadulterated heartlessness of some of those with whom I speak outside the emotional comfort of my “ghetto”, still surprises me every - single - time.
A writhing feeling twists throughout my soul as I smile and nod, careful to not disagree with those that say, “The apple never falls far from the tree”.
Because it is a fight I would not be able to stand. I know, I use to fight back all the time. But not anymore.
Now, I just smile, nod and say, “yep…yep…that’s right…it sure doesn’t.”
Feeling like a sell out forsaking my people and choked up to the point that I cannot even begin to look for an opening to spread my gospel of hope – my “promotion of understanding” – my plea for community support and involvement.
It’s much easier to relax and be myself with the parents. It comes so naturally for me to be able to look into a mother’s eyes and gently reassure her of the harmless fact that her child is surly in heaven. That the good outweighed the bad and that Jesus forgives all of us, no matter what we have done, if we just simply ask him to.
Referring to scriptures of the New Testament, I tell a story as though she has never heard it before.
I retell the process of how we go to heaven as though she has never had it explained to her before, though she would be hard pressed to remember a single day of church she had missed in years, her reaction to it, is as though she really had never heard it before, because it never meant so much to her as it does right then and there. Truly, a moment of selflessness that immediately proves to me that this was a good parent.
As though I was bringing back her forgotten ways. And all the while in a manner that is raw, real and usually in Spanish.
And then everything is a little bit better. And real tears flow from both of us. Just like her own child’s blood did not so long before.
But, to do otherwise, to me at least, would seem like the real sin. I would never be able to bring myself to say – “It’s good your child’s dead. He was a filthy gang-banger and he got what he deserved!”. Even if I believed that, which I never have, because I know there is always another path – there is always redemption. There is always good choices that can be made – with enough help from the outside world. And that is the problem – there is no help. There are only prisons, other gangsters and death.
Knowing all along that surrounding us outside our area, be it El Campo, South Mo, West Side, or Airport, there are so many people that would immediately take issue with what I was doing, feeling that certainly there is a debt to be paid by this wailing mother. A debt that can only be paid by a useless admission that her own child was evil incarnate and by all rights belongs in the pits of hell and it was all her fault, because she did not care enough, love enough, or discipline enough.
And who the hell was I, anyway? Who do I work for that I would be so bold as to reach out in these types of situations? Who am I indeed? A far better question would be - who are they that do not?
Of everything that I perform in my advocacy and activism, this is the thing that I hate the most:
Shielding the parents and family from the hurling stones of a bigoted and heartless community that seem to always look to place the blame on those most innocent and least able to afford the price of their hatred. A disgusting hatred which is disguised as little more than sterile, out of sight – out of mind solutions, which in actuality, are not even solutions at all, but rather, retaliations. Retaliations to those things which they really do not even take the time to try and contemplate or understand.
It’s always the same – you dare not speak in public about anything good regarding a gangster – you don’t share what was right about the “person” you will only find true acceptance by spitting on the criminal and advocating for mass incarceration or extermination – and be sure to say, “it starts with the parents – they are to blame”.
Even though the child is dead, the hateful bigots will find a reason to cause as much pain as possible for the family. As though their fowl words are the fuel to some time machine that is going to change the past – or the future. And make this a safer place for all of us.
Of course it begins with the parents. But that is such a blanket statement, that it foregoes the majority of parents that did everything they could to raise their child right and then one night, an officer is standing at the door and something so terrible has happened, that their lives and hearts are broken forever.
It never had to be like that in the first place.
If we do not come together as a community and begin loving and caring for our neighbors, no matter what the colors, language barriers or cultures that stand in our way, we will certainly suffer our own annihilation. Our own literal suicide borne of neglect and disrespect of each other.
Can you not see it happening now?
Support your local Neighborhood Watch and National Night Out events. Reach out to your neighbors right now and let them know you care about them and that you are watching out for them, their children and their futures. They will in turn do the same for you. I guarantee it.
Because they are a part of you and yours eternally.
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Man Died Yesterday
A Man Died Yesterday
By
Robert Stanford
A man died yesterday. He died along the banks of my favorite creek. Nameless, faceless and labeled a transient, a man died of a drug overdose. I was not there that day or that night.
There was a telephone call made yesterday. It was made from a payphone located at a liquor store on a corner point. A frantic call. An anonymous call made in a futile attempt to rescue what may have been a fellow junky. Too little and much too late.
There was a short story in the paper today. So short, the story did not even have an author. It was as though it was just a little filler news. Preponderance. An insurance policy against a possible angry phone call. Why report anything at all? I am the only one that would have cared anyway, and I wouldn’t call the paper.
The police said he was probably a transient. I thought to myself, “of course…a transient. But from where?” It was as if I had been given an excuse as a gift.
An excuse to not blame myself.
An excuse to not think that I could have done something this time.
An excuse to not wonder if I knew the man that had been killed by a hypodermic needle full of deadly poison.
A gift to be coupled by a coincidental article I had written a few days before, that confessed my conflict to not dismiss individuals such as this man as nothing more than garbage – their problems leaving no one to blame, but themselves – repulsive and culpable. An article that confessed a spiritual struggle to remember that they were as important as anyone else in the eyes of God.
It may rain this evening. I won’t be able to do anything about that, nor the transients that will not make it to the mission in time for shelter because they have something more important to do - shoot up meth and heroin or keep that alcohol transfusion coursing through their veins to the point of numbness and possible hypothermia. Men and women. Every single one of them is just as important as my best friends in the eyes of God. But for the life of me, I cannot stay constantly mindful of this – not all the time – I just cannot. I become so frustrated with their blindness. With their refusal to look into a mirror and wake up from a nightmare they do not even know they are having.
So many times, I have cursed the Modesto Mayor for only seeming to rise to the occasion of standing firm against crime when tragedy strikes. Isn’t it just like the Lord, to slap me in the face with self-righteous irony, such as this? I feel so low and selfish when I realize how arrogant I have been.
So arrogant I am to think that these “transients” mean so little to me, yet when one dies, I fall into a depression of self-hatred and guilt coupled with anger at myself when a man dies on an evening that I forewent my patrol of the dry creek banks and the back streets of La Loma on throughout the Airport District, searching for people in this very same predicament – lives just as precious as the life of the President of the United States.
On more than several occasions, I have felt so tired, that I have foregone these patrols, which could have provided for me additional opportunities to call police dispatch with my cell phone’s speed dial, clutching the phone between my shoulder and ear, invoking CPR and running on nothing more than sheer adrenaline and urgency of a simple matter such as life and death.
So caught up in these moments and emergencies, that only the next morning would I think clearly enough to consider my own welfare and eventually show up at the county health department for HIV and hepatitis screening.
Fortunately, anyone would assume that it was in actuality not my fault the man died, but rather, his own, probably well deserved and effective for the reduction of blight in the La Loma neighborhood.
I am so fortunate to be free of this man’s blood on my hands. I won’t even have to worry about it coming up as a mark against me in this years City Council election. No one will ask me at a forum about the one junky that died that one night, and all because I skipped my neighborhood watch patrol.
No one will ever blame me as much as I shall forever blame myself for not taking my hour and a half walk through the parks and neighborhoods I so proudly claim to provide protection from and for “transients”.
I guess the thing that really bothers me most about this event – this situation, is that it is by far not the first time and I know that it will not be the last.
Perhaps, if I stay strong and do not run away from my self-perceived purpose, this man’s death will not have been in vein.
A death so powerful to me, that I do not need to know his name, face or whether I knew him or not. Just to know that he was – it’s enough to inspire me to try harder to prevent as many deaths as well as ruined lives as I possibly can in the future – in a geographical area that I have claimed and fought for as my own.
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
By
Robert Stanford
A man died yesterday. He died along the banks of my favorite creek. Nameless, faceless and labeled a transient, a man died of a drug overdose. I was not there that day or that night.
There was a telephone call made yesterday. It was made from a payphone located at a liquor store on a corner point. A frantic call. An anonymous call made in a futile attempt to rescue what may have been a fellow junky. Too little and much too late.
There was a short story in the paper today. So short, the story did not even have an author. It was as though it was just a little filler news. Preponderance. An insurance policy against a possible angry phone call. Why report anything at all? I am the only one that would have cared anyway, and I wouldn’t call the paper.
The police said he was probably a transient. I thought to myself, “of course…a transient. But from where?” It was as if I had been given an excuse as a gift.
An excuse to not blame myself.
An excuse to not think that I could have done something this time.
An excuse to not wonder if I knew the man that had been killed by a hypodermic needle full of deadly poison.
A gift to be coupled by a coincidental article I had written a few days before, that confessed my conflict to not dismiss individuals such as this man as nothing more than garbage – their problems leaving no one to blame, but themselves – repulsive and culpable. An article that confessed a spiritual struggle to remember that they were as important as anyone else in the eyes of God.
It may rain this evening. I won’t be able to do anything about that, nor the transients that will not make it to the mission in time for shelter because they have something more important to do - shoot up meth and heroin or keep that alcohol transfusion coursing through their veins to the point of numbness and possible hypothermia. Men and women. Every single one of them is just as important as my best friends in the eyes of God. But for the life of me, I cannot stay constantly mindful of this – not all the time – I just cannot. I become so frustrated with their blindness. With their refusal to look into a mirror and wake up from a nightmare they do not even know they are having.
So many times, I have cursed the Modesto Mayor for only seeming to rise to the occasion of standing firm against crime when tragedy strikes. Isn’t it just like the Lord, to slap me in the face with self-righteous irony, such as this? I feel so low and selfish when I realize how arrogant I have been.
So arrogant I am to think that these “transients” mean so little to me, yet when one dies, I fall into a depression of self-hatred and guilt coupled with anger at myself when a man dies on an evening that I forewent my patrol of the dry creek banks and the back streets of La Loma on throughout the Airport District, searching for people in this very same predicament – lives just as precious as the life of the President of the United States.
On more than several occasions, I have felt so tired, that I have foregone these patrols, which could have provided for me additional opportunities to call police dispatch with my cell phone’s speed dial, clutching the phone between my shoulder and ear, invoking CPR and running on nothing more than sheer adrenaline and urgency of a simple matter such as life and death.
So caught up in these moments and emergencies, that only the next morning would I think clearly enough to consider my own welfare and eventually show up at the county health department for HIV and hepatitis screening.
Fortunately, anyone would assume that it was in actuality not my fault the man died, but rather, his own, probably well deserved and effective for the reduction of blight in the La Loma neighborhood.
I am so fortunate to be free of this man’s blood on my hands. I won’t even have to worry about it coming up as a mark against me in this years City Council election. No one will ask me at a forum about the one junky that died that one night, and all because I skipped my neighborhood watch patrol.
No one will ever blame me as much as I shall forever blame myself for not taking my hour and a half walk through the parks and neighborhoods I so proudly claim to provide protection from and for “transients”.
I guess the thing that really bothers me most about this event – this situation, is that it is by far not the first time and I know that it will not be the last.
Perhaps, if I stay strong and do not run away from my self-perceived purpose, this man’s death will not have been in vein.
A death so powerful to me, that I do not need to know his name, face or whether I knew him or not. Just to know that he was – it’s enough to inspire me to try harder to prevent as many deaths as well as ruined lives as I possibly can in the future – in a geographical area that I have claimed and fought for as my own.
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Straight Talk In A Time of Desperate Thought
Straight Talk In A Time of Desperate Thought
by
Robert Stanford
Through my work with some individuals in and out of the Modesto Airport District, at times, a battle will rage inside myself borne of frustration and disappointment. Generally due to working with those that I sympathetically call “those in recovery”. But often look down upon as junkies that choose the way in which they live and choose to continue their addiction completely free of any compelling urges that addiction may bring. Forever, I find myself needing to remind myself just how wrong I am regarding this assumption that I may have been taught – or prefer to perceive.
It seems so easy to me that they can put the needle down forever, once and for all. Looking at them, I feel that if I can only hold up some sort of an introspective mirror, that they will become horrified of what they look like and what their lives have become and it will be so easy for them to “kick” the addiction, or at the very least, check into some sort of a treatment center.
Like a Tolkien creature in Lord of the Rings that has forsaken every aspect of the reality of life and living for the sake of a seemingly magical band of gold, these individuals live out their lives in exactly the same way – ultimate isolation from all external stimulus with their only true goal being their next fix.
More times than not, I am tricked by my extended hand of assistance and encouragement for treatment. Or worse, attacked.
With other individuals that take my assistance and utilize it to achieve goals that further the advancement of the community and society at large, I relish in the fact that I am a powerful force in their lives – at times fueled by nothing more than a phamplet or brochure to make them aware of assistance that is available to them. They grow.
But not the junky. All they seem to care about is how much closer I can get them to their next fix, they become angry when they can see that money is not forthcoming from me. What good am I to them, unless I am able to assist them to continue their path of self-destruction?
They spit on me, throw things at me, attack me with little or no provocation, accuse me of being a “narc” and complain that I do not give them financial aid or change their environment to be more of that of an opium den – and like other places in more “civilized” society, often I hear the accusation that the only reason I interact with them in the first place is that I am trying to get their vote for political gain – though they do not vote in the first place.
Day in and day out, it is a constant battle for me to not lash out on them or constantly call the local MPD dispatch to have them arrested on possession charges – get them out of my District, so that those that appreciate my help the most can thrive more with what little resources my self-developed direct action methodological system has to function. A constant battle between despising them and understanding them.
But to this very day, I still hold strong to the philosophy that they are in fact God’s children and that they are not in control of their lives in any way.
I use to believe that if they were to hit rock bottom that in these times, it would be relatively easy for them to see themselves for what they actually had become and choose to take another path. But for many junkies that have been self-injecting heroin for many many years, this does not apply. And I begin to lose sight of what the truth is – A choice they make by their own free will? Or a drug so powerful, that year after year they are left to their own devices, trapped in a vacuum of loneliness and despair.
I will continue to advocate for these people, because they are people. Whether they are in the predicament they are in is their fault or not, I believe is impossible to determine without the attempt by the entire community to address them as ill and in need of treatment – rather than discarding them like the repulsive garbage they certainly look like.
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
by
Robert Stanford
Through my work with some individuals in and out of the Modesto Airport District, at times, a battle will rage inside myself borne of frustration and disappointment. Generally due to working with those that I sympathetically call “those in recovery”. But often look down upon as junkies that choose the way in which they live and choose to continue their addiction completely free of any compelling urges that addiction may bring. Forever, I find myself needing to remind myself just how wrong I am regarding this assumption that I may have been taught – or prefer to perceive.
It seems so easy to me that they can put the needle down forever, once and for all. Looking at them, I feel that if I can only hold up some sort of an introspective mirror, that they will become horrified of what they look like and what their lives have become and it will be so easy for them to “kick” the addiction, or at the very least, check into some sort of a treatment center.
Like a Tolkien creature in Lord of the Rings that has forsaken every aspect of the reality of life and living for the sake of a seemingly magical band of gold, these individuals live out their lives in exactly the same way – ultimate isolation from all external stimulus with their only true goal being their next fix.
More times than not, I am tricked by my extended hand of assistance and encouragement for treatment. Or worse, attacked.
With other individuals that take my assistance and utilize it to achieve goals that further the advancement of the community and society at large, I relish in the fact that I am a powerful force in their lives – at times fueled by nothing more than a phamplet or brochure to make them aware of assistance that is available to them. They grow.
But not the junky. All they seem to care about is how much closer I can get them to their next fix, they become angry when they can see that money is not forthcoming from me. What good am I to them, unless I am able to assist them to continue their path of self-destruction?
They spit on me, throw things at me, attack me with little or no provocation, accuse me of being a “narc” and complain that I do not give them financial aid or change their environment to be more of that of an opium den – and like other places in more “civilized” society, often I hear the accusation that the only reason I interact with them in the first place is that I am trying to get their vote for political gain – though they do not vote in the first place.
Day in and day out, it is a constant battle for me to not lash out on them or constantly call the local MPD dispatch to have them arrested on possession charges – get them out of my District, so that those that appreciate my help the most can thrive more with what little resources my self-developed direct action methodological system has to function. A constant battle between despising them and understanding them.
But to this very day, I still hold strong to the philosophy that they are in fact God’s children and that they are not in control of their lives in any way.
I use to believe that if they were to hit rock bottom that in these times, it would be relatively easy for them to see themselves for what they actually had become and choose to take another path. But for many junkies that have been self-injecting heroin for many many years, this does not apply. And I begin to lose sight of what the truth is – A choice they make by their own free will? Or a drug so powerful, that year after year they are left to their own devices, trapped in a vacuum of loneliness and despair.
I will continue to advocate for these people, because they are people. Whether they are in the predicament they are in is their fault or not, I believe is impossible to determine without the attempt by the entire community to address them as ill and in need of treatment – rather than discarding them like the repulsive garbage they certainly look like.
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
Monday, January 12, 2009
GANGS - Maybe If We Ignore Them, They'll Go Away
Gangs – Maybe If We Ignore Them, They Will Go Away
By
Robert Stanford
Anytime, as so now, I write about gangs, I always feel as though I need to educate on at least three points:
1. Gangs are more serious than my readers realize.
2. What gangs are, their origins and/or our current generalizing justice system that seems, to me at least, to be the most contributing factor to the perpetuality of gangs and the impact they have on our community.
3. The signs that show that youth are at immediate risk either through their own parents, the peers of their routine environment or the media.
And there you have it, some universal truths. This time however, I would like to stray from these three points and consider a fourth point. And that would be a discussion about gang discussion.
Let us start by asking some questions:
Question # 1 - When and under what circumstance is it appropriate to ensure that those whom we come into contact with are fully aware of the first three points in general, without my biasness concerning the topic of gangs.
a. Gangs are serious than they realize.
b. The definition of a gang regardless of historical assumptions.
c. How to recognize signs (and other signs of gang activity).
Question #2 – When are some of the times it may not be appropriate to discuss gangs.
a. Gang victim funerals. I have been to many, but never have seen gangs discussed outside of eulogies.
b. When it could negatively affect the relationship with one who is rather defensive. Such as when parents are in denial. I have had more encounters of this type regarding gangs than any other. I believe that this would also apply to many in law enforcement and education.
Question #3 – When was the last time you attended a gang presentation of any type?
a. When have you last heard of one?
Question #4 – What would you do if your child joined a gang?
a. How would you intervene?
Question #5 – Kids love a gangster – how truly effective is an ex-gangster doing presentations for kids?
I am of the opinion that if the individual is remarkably contrasted by their “former” life that it could be lovely and effective for the youth.
And then again, I have never bothered to attend a presentation, much less accompanied by children to see Sir Chocolate’.
Question #6 – What are some of the most effective tools that we have to combat gangs today?
a. Education in the three basic principles of understanding gangs, specifically they are:
i. That gangs are more serious than one realizes.
ii. The definition of gangs.
iii. Gang warning signs (and other signs of gang activity).
Damn. Sorry about that.
b. Fortification and support of local law enforcement.
c. Opportunities for youth (outside the home)
i. Activity programs.
ii. Mentorships.
iii. Community acceptance and support.
iv. Heritage fulfillment (sense of belonging satisfied through healthy and positive means.
Recently, I have been disenchanted by what I see in my Modesto community. I am beginning to feel that the time must be neigh for me to attempt something – anything to bring a reminder to our elected officials that they must most certainly, remain mindful of the seriousness of gangs. Because, of course, gangs are more serious than they realize.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease right?
But why do I get the feeling that asking some straight questions in the hopes of some straight answers can be somewhat tenuous?
The upshot? There are things we need to combat gangs. The more we discuss gangs, the more likely we are to receive at least some of the things which we need to effectively defeat them.
When? That is up to us. It depends on a gang awareness program out of the blue. One of which would be the only attendance problem one in which there were too many in attendance.
A scene like that can usually only be brought about by two things. Tragedy or widespread awareness of three things regarding gangs.
1. Gangs are more serious than they realize.
2. They know what gangs are.
3. They don’t have to know the signs – that’s what the presentation is for.
Don’t just be about it, talk about it.
By committing to talk about gangs in whatever situations we find ourselves, will ensure that we can win this fight.
“But I am just one voice, “ you might say. “What significant impact can I make?”
To which I say, fear not, I am recruiting others to join you. Several thousand actually.
Gangs – it’s literally a matter of life and death. Join us, lift your voice and we will save lives.
If you are interested in attending or hosting gang presentation, please contact me via email at toymaker99@yahoo.com
Robert Stanford
Community AdvocateClick Here to Visit http://stanford4modesto.blogspot.com
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
By
Robert Stanford
Anytime, as so now, I write about gangs, I always feel as though I need to educate on at least three points:
1. Gangs are more serious than my readers realize.
2. What gangs are, their origins and/or our current generalizing justice system that seems, to me at least, to be the most contributing factor to the perpetuality of gangs and the impact they have on our community.
3. The signs that show that youth are at immediate risk either through their own parents, the peers of their routine environment or the media.
And there you have it, some universal truths. This time however, I would like to stray from these three points and consider a fourth point. And that would be a discussion about gang discussion.
Let us start by asking some questions:
Question # 1 - When and under what circumstance is it appropriate to ensure that those whom we come into contact with are fully aware of the first three points in general, without my biasness concerning the topic of gangs.
a. Gangs are serious than they realize.
b. The definition of a gang regardless of historical assumptions.
c. How to recognize signs (and other signs of gang activity).
Question #2 – When are some of the times it may not be appropriate to discuss gangs.
a. Gang victim funerals. I have been to many, but never have seen gangs discussed outside of eulogies.
b. When it could negatively affect the relationship with one who is rather defensive. Such as when parents are in denial. I have had more encounters of this type regarding gangs than any other. I believe that this would also apply to many in law enforcement and education.
Question #3 – When was the last time you attended a gang presentation of any type?
a. When have you last heard of one?
Question #4 – What would you do if your child joined a gang?
a. How would you intervene?
Question #5 – Kids love a gangster – how truly effective is an ex-gangster doing presentations for kids?
I am of the opinion that if the individual is remarkably contrasted by their “former” life that it could be lovely and effective for the youth.
And then again, I have never bothered to attend a presentation, much less accompanied by children to see Sir Chocolate’.
Question #6 – What are some of the most effective tools that we have to combat gangs today?
a. Education in the three basic principles of understanding gangs, specifically they are:
i. That gangs are more serious than one realizes.
ii. The definition of gangs.
iii. Gang warning signs (and other signs of gang activity).
Damn. Sorry about that.
b. Fortification and support of local law enforcement.
c. Opportunities for youth (outside the home)
i. Activity programs.
ii. Mentorships.
iii. Community acceptance and support.
iv. Heritage fulfillment (sense of belonging satisfied through healthy and positive means.
Recently, I have been disenchanted by what I see in my Modesto community. I am beginning to feel that the time must be neigh for me to attempt something – anything to bring a reminder to our elected officials that they must most certainly, remain mindful of the seriousness of gangs. Because, of course, gangs are more serious than they realize.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease right?
But why do I get the feeling that asking some straight questions in the hopes of some straight answers can be somewhat tenuous?
The upshot? There are things we need to combat gangs. The more we discuss gangs, the more likely we are to receive at least some of the things which we need to effectively defeat them.
When? That is up to us. It depends on a gang awareness program out of the blue. One of which would be the only attendance problem one in which there were too many in attendance.
A scene like that can usually only be brought about by two things. Tragedy or widespread awareness of three things regarding gangs.
1. Gangs are more serious than they realize.
2. They know what gangs are.
3. They don’t have to know the signs – that’s what the presentation is for.
Don’t just be about it, talk about it.
By committing to talk about gangs in whatever situations we find ourselves, will ensure that we can win this fight.
“But I am just one voice, “ you might say. “What significant impact can I make?”
To which I say, fear not, I am recruiting others to join you. Several thousand actually.
Gangs – it’s literally a matter of life and death. Join us, lift your voice and we will save lives.
If you are interested in attending or hosting gang presentation, please contact me via email at toymaker99@yahoo.com
Robert Stanford
Community AdvocateClick Here to Visit http://stanford4modesto.blogspot.com
Copyright 2009 Robert Stanford all rights reserved.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Stranded Child
Stranded Child
By
Robert W. Stanford
Previous to the September 11th 2001 tragedy in New York, yet in that very same year, I happened to come across a homeless girl of 10 years of age, living with her mother in and around Moose Park.
The mother of this child was an intravenous drug user, possessing a serious and life threatening dependency on the injection of several controlled substances, including, but not limited to methamphetamine and black tar heroin. Both child and mother were constantly surrounded by several adult males. Many of whom were often confrontational with me because my presence and interaction with the mother and the child made them suspect that I was perhaps an under-cover police officer.
From my interviews with the child and mother I was able to make the determination that though the child did not appear to be malnourished, she had not bathed in an extremely long period of time and was suffering from a lice infestation that was causing multiple large sores on her scalp. Further, the many men in her surrounding environment had questionable character and value traits, since many, if not all, were seriously addicted to various controlled substances as well.
For a majority of the time, day or night, the mother had no knowledge of the specific location of the child, nor did she ever seem to be concerned about the well being of her child.
After having spent three days personally investigating this situation, I called the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department Main line.
The person I spoke with, told me in no uncertain terms, "We can’t just go and look for a little girl in the park."
Not only did I feel this statement was unprofessional; I felt that it was uncaring and insensitive to the actual needs which I knew for a fact were in our community. Right here in Moose Park.
I then called a friend of mine, who has now since retired from the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department. Fortunately, through many contacts he had still at his disposal, he was able to get the ball rolling, so that within the space of another five days, the child was removed from this dangerous environment.
One can only speculate on what this little girl’s chances are to avoid in life the pre-determined pit-falls bestowed on any child exposed to similar circumstances, but if the apathy demonstrated to me during my initial contact with the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department, are of any indication of the amount, we as a community care about an innocent ten year old girl stranded in a secluded park with an apathetic, strung out guardian, forced to live amongst parolees, sex-offenders and junkies, I would think any child’s chances of a fruitful future are quite dismal indeed.
Robert Stanford
By
Robert W. Stanford
Previous to the September 11th 2001 tragedy in New York, yet in that very same year, I happened to come across a homeless girl of 10 years of age, living with her mother in and around Moose Park.
The mother of this child was an intravenous drug user, possessing a serious and life threatening dependency on the injection of several controlled substances, including, but not limited to methamphetamine and black tar heroin. Both child and mother were constantly surrounded by several adult males. Many of whom were often confrontational with me because my presence and interaction with the mother and the child made them suspect that I was perhaps an under-cover police officer.
From my interviews with the child and mother I was able to make the determination that though the child did not appear to be malnourished, she had not bathed in an extremely long period of time and was suffering from a lice infestation that was causing multiple large sores on her scalp. Further, the many men in her surrounding environment had questionable character and value traits, since many, if not all, were seriously addicted to various controlled substances as well.
For a majority of the time, day or night, the mother had no knowledge of the specific location of the child, nor did she ever seem to be concerned about the well being of her child.
After having spent three days personally investigating this situation, I called the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department Main line.
The person I spoke with, told me in no uncertain terms, "We can’t just go and look for a little girl in the park."
Not only did I feel this statement was unprofessional; I felt that it was uncaring and insensitive to the actual needs which I knew for a fact were in our community. Right here in Moose Park.
I then called a friend of mine, who has now since retired from the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department. Fortunately, through many contacts he had still at his disposal, he was able to get the ball rolling, so that within the space of another five days, the child was removed from this dangerous environment.
One can only speculate on what this little girl’s chances are to avoid in life the pre-determined pit-falls bestowed on any child exposed to similar circumstances, but if the apathy demonstrated to me during my initial contact with the Stanislaus County Child Protective Services Department, are of any indication of the amount, we as a community care about an innocent ten year old girl stranded in a secluded park with an apathetic, strung out guardian, forced to live amongst parolees, sex-offenders and junkies, I would think any child’s chances of a fruitful future are quite dismal indeed.
Robert Stanford
Communication is the Key
Communication is the key
Communication is the key that unlocks the shackles of fear, guilt, hatred, and apathy in our communities.
Although at first, the subject and discussion of communication is quickly identified, categorized, and usually affirmed as understood when stated by an individual or an organization, it is in fact needed by two self-identifying parties such as a police department and a community group.
As a Civil Rights activist, I have often witnessed that when a community feels it has been treated unfairly in some way, an immediate knee-jerk reaction occurs in which communication, regardless of its previous state, will consist more of verbal missiles lobbed by various members of the community. Accusations are made and historical events are recited. Law enforcement generally becomes defensive, while under advice of their city and/or county legal advisors, and denial becomes its position.
The heated debate is, more often then not, reduced to nothing more than accusations that usually cannot be addressed in a forum, if at all, and denial of those accusations results in an involuntary denial of the reassurance previously sought by the community from local law enforcement.
At a recent Modesto National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) meeting, a police officer fielded an accusation of police profiling by saying, "My wife complains of the same thing every time she brings home another speeding ticket." This was said in a "Take my wife, please" humorous manner to make his point of denial to the accusation of prevalent profiling as palatable as he could.
"Is she white?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, showing me right away that he had not put much thought into a response if the issue were to arise. Nothing more was mentioned for the remainder of the meeting although a few people traded glances as though speaking aloud, "Naturally" or "Typical".
Many of us present that evening would have absolutely loved a statement to the effect, "Yes. I am aware that in a few incidents profiling exists, but I assure you that we, as a department, are taking proactive steps to address them."
But there is no way the officer can say anything like that, especially at an NAACP meeting. He is only authorized to say what he has been instructed to say in response to general questions or statements regarding the conduct of all personnel within the police department.
This is the point at which communication between a community and its local law enforcement begins to break down. It breaks down on the side of the community because many feel that their concerns are invalidated and/or their experiences are dismissed out of hand as though their concerns are not important. This particularly angers parents who feel their children have been mistreated.
Communication breaks down on the side of law enforcement because officers may feel that the community’s concerns place them in a catch-22 type situation; If they admit to any flaws in procedure or problems with any officer, they may inadvertently open themselves up to possible legal problems, or the current forum may escalate to an undesirable state of affairs whether they answer or not.
Though what I have just described is in fact communication, it is strangled before it can benefit either side. An opportunity for growth is missed due to the inability of both sides to sufficiently empathize with the other. The "We’re all in this together" attitude must be addressed and considered before conversation can begin.
Venting, taking opportunities to let one side know how they other feels, may very well be important if not necessary. However, if that is all that occurs, great opportunities for understanding by both parties are missed by all.
To achieve successful communication, either to effectively change the community or to give fair warning against inappropriate actions against the community by local law enforcement, it is absolutely vital to be mindful of ecclesiastical philosophy; i.e. there is a time and place for everything.
Asking questions before meetings is beneficial to success. Questions such as: Who is the real audience? The police or the press? Are there others who may not be sure where you stand? What exactly would you want the police to do? Grant amnesty to a specific group? Practice affirmative action with their arrest and/or stopping procedures? Reduce or increase their presence in specified areas of the community? Usually, it comes down to either modifying procedures or starting or stopping activities. What activities would you like the police to start or stop? Stop daily harassment of homeless persons in a certain area? Start diversity training? Reach out more to the community? How? More importantly perhaps, how does local law enforcement feel about the things you want?
A couple of years ago, I witnessed a pre-teen Chicano child dressed in Converse tennis shoes, baggy pants and sporting a white t-shirt reaching his knees, stopped by police officers working with the Stanislaus County Gang Task Force Unit.
I immediately approached the officer and demanded, "Hey, wait, wait, wait, what’s your probable cause here?"
"He was riding his bicycle in the street," replied the officer, knowing who I was, and pausing for my response rather then ordering me to stand back or walk on, etc.
On this particular street in a desperate area of Modesto, there are no sidewalks, shoulders, or bike lanes. Further, by the child riding his bicycle in the street, moving with traffic, he was still well within his rights and not breaking any laws.
My first thought was to confront the officer, in front of witnesses, with the facts that he did not have probable cause to stop and roust the Chicano child. Instead, it occurred to me that, since the officer had paused, he was ready to listen (to whatever extent) to what I had to say. I had an opportunity to avoid a typical verbal scrimmage and effectively communicate with him as opposed to communicating against him.
I decided to forego my usual combative and often threatening response consisting of an insistence of releasing his subject because he did not, in fact, have probable cause, therefore leaving his circumstances open to criticism as an act of racial/cultural profiling. I let him off the hook and said, "When the neighbors that live around here see you do things like this, they think you’re profiling. They don’t know what your probable cause is."
He then turned and let his subject go, then turned back to me and gruffly asked, "Any more questions?"
I know the officer understood that his probable cause was non-existent and perhaps we were both a bit frustrated after not having expressed what we both wanted to, but I felt that we were all winners, even if by a little, tiny bit. I validated his actions with a reason for my concern. In turn, he listened to what I said, and released the child. Win-Win.
We do not have to accept a point of view, or even believe it, to acknowledge it. Once a side takes the first step to create discussion, real communication can follow, if both sides care enough to express their feelings to each other, no matter what those feelings are. There exists the opportunity for something beautiful and amazing to grow between all persons involved. The ramifications can be miraculous.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Communication is the key that unlocks the shackles of fear, guilt, hatred, and apathy in our communities.
Although at first, the subject and discussion of communication is quickly identified, categorized, and usually affirmed as understood when stated by an individual or an organization, it is in fact needed by two self-identifying parties such as a police department and a community group.
As a Civil Rights activist, I have often witnessed that when a community feels it has been treated unfairly in some way, an immediate knee-jerk reaction occurs in which communication, regardless of its previous state, will consist more of verbal missiles lobbed by various members of the community. Accusations are made and historical events are recited. Law enforcement generally becomes defensive, while under advice of their city and/or county legal advisors, and denial becomes its position.
The heated debate is, more often then not, reduced to nothing more than accusations that usually cannot be addressed in a forum, if at all, and denial of those accusations results in an involuntary denial of the reassurance previously sought by the community from local law enforcement.
At a recent Modesto National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) meeting, a police officer fielded an accusation of police profiling by saying, "My wife complains of the same thing every time she brings home another speeding ticket." This was said in a "Take my wife, please" humorous manner to make his point of denial to the accusation of prevalent profiling as palatable as he could.
"Is she white?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied, showing me right away that he had not put much thought into a response if the issue were to arise. Nothing more was mentioned for the remainder of the meeting although a few people traded glances as though speaking aloud, "Naturally" or "Typical".
Many of us present that evening would have absolutely loved a statement to the effect, "Yes. I am aware that in a few incidents profiling exists, but I assure you that we, as a department, are taking proactive steps to address them."
But there is no way the officer can say anything like that, especially at an NAACP meeting. He is only authorized to say what he has been instructed to say in response to general questions or statements regarding the conduct of all personnel within the police department.
This is the point at which communication between a community and its local law enforcement begins to break down. It breaks down on the side of the community because many feel that their concerns are invalidated and/or their experiences are dismissed out of hand as though their concerns are not important. This particularly angers parents who feel their children have been mistreated.
Communication breaks down on the side of law enforcement because officers may feel that the community’s concerns place them in a catch-22 type situation; If they admit to any flaws in procedure or problems with any officer, they may inadvertently open themselves up to possible legal problems, or the current forum may escalate to an undesirable state of affairs whether they answer or not.
Though what I have just described is in fact communication, it is strangled before it can benefit either side. An opportunity for growth is missed due to the inability of both sides to sufficiently empathize with the other. The "We’re all in this together" attitude must be addressed and considered before conversation can begin.
Venting, taking opportunities to let one side know how they other feels, may very well be important if not necessary. However, if that is all that occurs, great opportunities for understanding by both parties are missed by all.
To achieve successful communication, either to effectively change the community or to give fair warning against inappropriate actions against the community by local law enforcement, it is absolutely vital to be mindful of ecclesiastical philosophy; i.e. there is a time and place for everything.
Asking questions before meetings is beneficial to success. Questions such as: Who is the real audience? The police or the press? Are there others who may not be sure where you stand? What exactly would you want the police to do? Grant amnesty to a specific group? Practice affirmative action with their arrest and/or stopping procedures? Reduce or increase their presence in specified areas of the community? Usually, it comes down to either modifying procedures or starting or stopping activities. What activities would you like the police to start or stop? Stop daily harassment of homeless persons in a certain area? Start diversity training? Reach out more to the community? How? More importantly perhaps, how does local law enforcement feel about the things you want?
A couple of years ago, I witnessed a pre-teen Chicano child dressed in Converse tennis shoes, baggy pants and sporting a white t-shirt reaching his knees, stopped by police officers working with the Stanislaus County Gang Task Force Unit.
I immediately approached the officer and demanded, "Hey, wait, wait, wait, what’s your probable cause here?"
"He was riding his bicycle in the street," replied the officer, knowing who I was, and pausing for my response rather then ordering me to stand back or walk on, etc.
On this particular street in a desperate area of Modesto, there are no sidewalks, shoulders, or bike lanes. Further, by the child riding his bicycle in the street, moving with traffic, he was still well within his rights and not breaking any laws.
My first thought was to confront the officer, in front of witnesses, with the facts that he did not have probable cause to stop and roust the Chicano child. Instead, it occurred to me that, since the officer had paused, he was ready to listen (to whatever extent) to what I had to say. I had an opportunity to avoid a typical verbal scrimmage and effectively communicate with him as opposed to communicating against him.
I decided to forego my usual combative and often threatening response consisting of an insistence of releasing his subject because he did not, in fact, have probable cause, therefore leaving his circumstances open to criticism as an act of racial/cultural profiling. I let him off the hook and said, "When the neighbors that live around here see you do things like this, they think you’re profiling. They don’t know what your probable cause is."
He then turned and let his subject go, then turned back to me and gruffly asked, "Any more questions?"
I know the officer understood that his probable cause was non-existent and perhaps we were both a bit frustrated after not having expressed what we both wanted to, but I felt that we were all winners, even if by a little, tiny bit. I validated his actions with a reason for my concern. In turn, he listened to what I said, and released the child. Win-Win.
We do not have to accept a point of view, or even believe it, to acknowledge it. Once a side takes the first step to create discussion, real communication can follow, if both sides care enough to express their feelings to each other, no matter what those feelings are. There exists the opportunity for something beautiful and amazing to grow between all persons involved. The ramifications can be miraculous.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
The High Price of Heroism
The High Price of Heroism
Many of us have had the great fortune of having lived in the United States all our lives, never so much as once being exposed to a world lacking in so many of the everyday things we have come to take for granted at our earliest ages. Those things which we assume everyone else in our community enjoy as well.
We are taught by our community what is considered appropriate and that boldness combined with the expression of unique ideas or truths may lead to embarrassment and ridicule or much, much worse. For the most part, we as American Citizens have become creatively and compassionately sterile and quiet. When all the while, there are secrets which we all know should never be kept (i.e. DUI, AIDS, etc.).
So precious is the one individual that suddenly breaks away from conventional wisdom and speaks out, with a faltering and nervous voice or reaches out, with a shaking and timid hand to anyone or on behalf of any cause.
And so sad are the all too frequent moments that the individual must pay a hefty and sometimes even lethal price for their selfless and charitable efforts. With dirty and/or suspicious looks and words from those surrounding them. Some of whom they may even admire. Such is the risk those take when stepping away from the ocean waves of popular opinion. They begin thinking for themselves and stand up for what their hearts tell them is bright and true.
If it sounds to you that I know how this feels, you would be quite correct. I could not even begin to count the times that I have been jeered, laughed at, thrown out, and yes even beaten senseless by rednecks and law enforcement both, for saying those things I knew in my heart needed to be said. And I said them, trusting in constitutional rights of freedom of speech to do so.
And even to this very day, my reputation and name are being pillaged by the most publicly celebrated of local community and cultural leaders. Those who prefer I keep secrets, turn my head and look the other way (play the game by giving up my turn). All the while, those unable to pay their politically correct prices suffer in unimaginable ways. And for what? What would I receive? A pat on the back by those who would have me call them my leader? Never. And neither would you.
It’s all right now; it’s all right to be afraid, nervous and apprehensive. You are the only on that needs to be proud of you. Those that would prefer you to be quiet or speak other then what you feel will not be standing beside you when your ultimate time of judgment comes. Nor will they be holding your hand as you lay inside your deathbed, recounting these moments as invaluable assets in and of you life. Moments in which you bravely fought for those weaker than yourself. And when those you respect the most ever so subtly twist your words and accuse you of ridiculous atrocities and outrageous conspiracies, you can hold your head up ever so high, knowing that all along, you have performed your duty and fought for truth, justice and the American way. A real super hero. And what’s more, you will finally know for sure who your real friends are. Very quickly too, I might add.
So, if you do decide (or have already decided) to speak up (with or without a cape), I have some tips for you. A few skipping stones of arrogant tid-bits I have collected along my way that will certainly NOT make you task any easier at all.
1. Beware of he/she who takes you aside only to advise you on what or what not to say – anytime and anywhere.
2. Never be afraid to read a previously written statement.
3. Know your facts and know their myths. In that order.
4. Don’t stop speaking for anyone or any other reason until you are done no matter what they say or do. A jury never disregards and neither will anyone else.
5. Only answer the questions you care to. Don’t be afraid to say "No comment" and repeat as needed. (5th amendment – remember?)
6. Regularly monitor freedom of speech and libel/slander laws, as they may change practically with every new court case (I keep various cases printed out and folded with me at all times).
7. Feel free to immediately leave after you’ve finished speaking. And why not? Your job is very well done.
8. Call 911 if you think your’s or another’s safety is in question (no call is ever to small if 911 comes to mind). Even if you are feeling threatened by what may or may not be loosely referred to as authority figures (PoliceOfficers, Security Guards, Men in white coats – or black).
9. Don’t argue unless you want to (see number 5) and if you do want to argue, only argue the way that you want to – for your rights to advocatefor the rights of your cause – if necessary – Don’t let them pull your chain – you are always in complete control of you! And you already finished what you started; (see number 4) so feel free to stop arguing at anytime. Or not.
10. If you really feel the heat and your heart is bleeding from the stings of optical and/or verbal daggers, try and remember it’s all a lot like a casino – if the pit bosses are starin’ you down and sayin’ sly stuff you can’t quite make out, it is only because the evening is ever so much better for you then it is for them. Seriously. 11. And last, but not at al least, please remember this dear reader, whenever anyone tells you like it is, no matter who it is, find out every single fact on your own. You are the only expert you will ever need.So, let the record show now, that you too can be a hero. Suddenly your on your own - Alone.And you look like a fool, but not to everyone. There are those that will see who you really are – a real life super hero and they just might hold your hand.
GO GETTEM’ TIGER! The suffering need someone to cry out for them. Will you cry?
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Many of us have had the great fortune of having lived in the United States all our lives, never so much as once being exposed to a world lacking in so many of the everyday things we have come to take for granted at our earliest ages. Those things which we assume everyone else in our community enjoy as well.
We are taught by our community what is considered appropriate and that boldness combined with the expression of unique ideas or truths may lead to embarrassment and ridicule or much, much worse. For the most part, we as American Citizens have become creatively and compassionately sterile and quiet. When all the while, there are secrets which we all know should never be kept (i.e. DUI, AIDS, etc.).
So precious is the one individual that suddenly breaks away from conventional wisdom and speaks out, with a faltering and nervous voice or reaches out, with a shaking and timid hand to anyone or on behalf of any cause.
And so sad are the all too frequent moments that the individual must pay a hefty and sometimes even lethal price for their selfless and charitable efforts. With dirty and/or suspicious looks and words from those surrounding them. Some of whom they may even admire. Such is the risk those take when stepping away from the ocean waves of popular opinion. They begin thinking for themselves and stand up for what their hearts tell them is bright and true.
If it sounds to you that I know how this feels, you would be quite correct. I could not even begin to count the times that I have been jeered, laughed at, thrown out, and yes even beaten senseless by rednecks and law enforcement both, for saying those things I knew in my heart needed to be said. And I said them, trusting in constitutional rights of freedom of speech to do so.
And even to this very day, my reputation and name are being pillaged by the most publicly celebrated of local community and cultural leaders. Those who prefer I keep secrets, turn my head and look the other way (play the game by giving up my turn). All the while, those unable to pay their politically correct prices suffer in unimaginable ways. And for what? What would I receive? A pat on the back by those who would have me call them my leader? Never. And neither would you.
It’s all right now; it’s all right to be afraid, nervous and apprehensive. You are the only on that needs to be proud of you. Those that would prefer you to be quiet or speak other then what you feel will not be standing beside you when your ultimate time of judgment comes. Nor will they be holding your hand as you lay inside your deathbed, recounting these moments as invaluable assets in and of you life. Moments in which you bravely fought for those weaker than yourself. And when those you respect the most ever so subtly twist your words and accuse you of ridiculous atrocities and outrageous conspiracies, you can hold your head up ever so high, knowing that all along, you have performed your duty and fought for truth, justice and the American way. A real super hero. And what’s more, you will finally know for sure who your real friends are. Very quickly too, I might add.
So, if you do decide (or have already decided) to speak up (with or without a cape), I have some tips for you. A few skipping stones of arrogant tid-bits I have collected along my way that will certainly NOT make you task any easier at all.
1. Beware of he/she who takes you aside only to advise you on what or what not to say – anytime and anywhere.
2. Never be afraid to read a previously written statement.
3. Know your facts and know their myths. In that order.
4. Don’t stop speaking for anyone or any other reason until you are done no matter what they say or do. A jury never disregards and neither will anyone else.
5. Only answer the questions you care to. Don’t be afraid to say "No comment" and repeat as needed. (5th amendment – remember?)
6. Regularly monitor freedom of speech and libel/slander laws, as they may change practically with every new court case (I keep various cases printed out and folded with me at all times).
7. Feel free to immediately leave after you’ve finished speaking. And why not? Your job is very well done.
8. Call 911 if you think your’s or another’s safety is in question (no call is ever to small if 911 comes to mind). Even if you are feeling threatened by what may or may not be loosely referred to as authority figures (PoliceOfficers, Security Guards, Men in white coats – or black).
9. Don’t argue unless you want to (see number 5) and if you do want to argue, only argue the way that you want to – for your rights to advocatefor the rights of your cause – if necessary – Don’t let them pull your chain – you are always in complete control of you! And you already finished what you started; (see number 4) so feel free to stop arguing at anytime. Or not.
10. If you really feel the heat and your heart is bleeding from the stings of optical and/or verbal daggers, try and remember it’s all a lot like a casino – if the pit bosses are starin’ you down and sayin’ sly stuff you can’t quite make out, it is only because the evening is ever so much better for you then it is for them. Seriously. 11. And last, but not at al least, please remember this dear reader, whenever anyone tells you like it is, no matter who it is, find out every single fact on your own. You are the only expert you will ever need.So, let the record show now, that you too can be a hero. Suddenly your on your own - Alone.And you look like a fool, but not to everyone. There are those that will see who you really are – a real life super hero and they just might hold your hand.
GO GETTEM’ TIGER! The suffering need someone to cry out for them. Will you cry?
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Gangs are Cults and We are the Solution
GANGS ARE CULTS - WE ARE THE SOLUTION!
BY
ROBERT STANFORD
AIRPORT NEIGHBORHOOD ACTIVIST
Perhaps there are more of us then we realize, that cannot remember times as difficult as times are for us now.
BY
ROBERT STANFORD
AIRPORT NEIGHBORHOOD ACTIVIST
Perhaps there are more of us then we realize, that cannot remember times as difficult as times are for us now.
I have always found it ironic that one photo in particular of the aftermath of the Jim Jones People’s Temple tragedy. With bodies strewn across the floor from drinking suicidal Kool-Aid, and prominently displayed on a pillar is a plaque that read, “Those who forget the past will be condemned to repeat it.”
How many of us have forgotten the past? Will anyone reading this remember the Moonies and Hari Krishnas spewing flowers and love in our American airports? Though I am sure everyone reading this remembers Nortenos and Surenos spreading bullets and graffiti throughout our communities, as a society, have we not done a poor job of passing on stories that can be contrasted with current events for understanding and possible solutions?
In the seventies, when a person joined a cult, our society did not consider incarceration with other cult members as a plausible solution. De-programming was an acceptable approach to dealing with cult members. Cult members that would seem to forsake even their parents for the benefit of the cult.
Of course, society’s predominant mental picture, fed to it by the media was a white cult member, a runaway from a broken home perhaps.
Today, it would seem, the public’s mental picture of a gang member is Latino or Black. An image that most white people think represents a weakness inherent within the biological heritage of these racial lines. And then we stop thinking about it all together and this negative stereotyped image (usually male) becomes what we then consider “conventional wisdom” and oh so dangerous when looking toward solutions.
Because, I submit to you, that if the other pieces of the puzzle were included, to fill out this picture beyond the halted comprehension of racial and cultural biasness, the public would see that none of us are immune from these same things our children are falling victim to. None of us are immune to the human natures and natural instincts existing within all of us. The need to belong afflicts all of us as much as the need to be loved.
Unfortunately, we are on our own, when it comes to expanding the story as it is presented by the grand stage of our environments, media, as well as national, state and local governments.
By remembering what we, as a society have been through before and by contrast and comparison, we can find the missing pieces to our problematic puzzles, thereby saving lives and possibly mankind’s very future as well.
By remembering what we, as a society have been through before and by contrast and comparison, we can find the missing pieces to our problematic puzzles, thereby saving lives and possibly mankind’s very future as well.
Today, in most cities throughout California, there are neighborhoods in which the residents are consistently aware that they are being ruled by two factions: Law enforcement and Street gangs.
Because of the historical evolution of these disparate neighborhoods, law enforcement rule of these neighborhoods are broken into two separate factions of City police and county sheriffs, sometime over-lapping and sometimes not.
Because of the historical evolution of these disparate neighborhoods, law enforcement rule of these neighborhoods are broken into two separate factions of City police and county sheriffs, sometime over-lapping and sometimes not.
For the vast majority of the residents there really is not that much of a significant distinction between the two – a cop is a cop, as it were.
As far as gang rule, however, also being broken into two or sometimes even multiple factions, the distinction can be a deadly mistake if not made correctly, as well as timely.
The gang rule distinction is made by slang, gang signs and colors distributed throughout territories who’s very boundaries constantly change a result of present and ongoing gang warfare and marketing. Warfare that ranges for graffiti to homicide. And these things are only becoming worse.
The gang rule distinction is made by slang, gang signs and colors distributed throughout territories who’s very boundaries constantly change a result of present and ongoing gang warfare and marketing. Warfare that ranges for graffiti to homicide. And these things are only becoming worse.
We feed the gangs with soldiers – our very children. And our solution to solving this problem is to incarcerate our youth, treating them like criminals. They are fully educated and skilled upon their release for only one thing – benefit of the gang. To the death if necessary.
Where do gangs come from? Our prison system which is a viscious conglomerate and the result of our corporate American revolution of greed. But where does the majority of our youth end up? Dead or in and out of the penal system for the rest of their lives, particularly if they are black or latino.
I have seen the heart breaking aftermath of gang violence over and over again in my work as a civil rights activist/advocate.
I have had the ringing in my ears last for hours, after holding a wailing mother, whom I had never met before the funeral of her seventeen year old son, with no one else present but me, the mother, the minister, and the forgotten corpse of her dead son.
I have seen elderly Mexican women feverishly and fearfully practicing new gang signs in preparation to walk to a corner store.
And I have witnessed the fallout of a solution to our gang problems that is as effective as a loose band-aid; children, Latino children, forced to empty their backpacks all over the ground by police officers. These were elementary school children with their only claim to gang involvement being that they were of Latino descent.
Our youth are kidnapped in our very communities and a ransom is set that we have long since forgotten how to pay. We are struck by gangs at our weakest point. The point at which we have forgotten our past. We have forsaken our desire to comfort and support one another for something so much more desirable than our heritage – material wealth and popularity within our limited adult social and political circles. Of all the groups in my area I am involved with - this is all too true.
One day, we as a society will evolve to remember our past and thereby save our future by reaching out – loving and supporting one another equally before any of us or our children will ever have to look to a gang to get what they should be getting at home or from their communities at large.
Copyright 2008 (c) by Robert Stanford/Mundo Hispano - all rights reserved.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Copyright 2008 (c) by Robert Stanford/Mundo Hispano - all rights reserved.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Modesto Airport District Spay/Neuter Clinic - SUCCESS!
Airport District - Spay and Neuter Services - Success!
Saturday, July 26th 2008, the non-profit organization, the Stanislaus County Animal Services Auxiliary held a Mobile Spay & Neuter Clinic from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. Saturday in the airport neighborhood. The operations were offered at $5, and rabies shots at $2 for those that could provide proof of public assistance or poverty.
Auxiliary President Mary Whetstone took the lead, bright and early at the Sheriff Substation located on Santa Cruz. Several volunteers from the auxiliary showed up, nervously awaiting the animals and pre-set appointments.
I was there as a Spanish translator and general gopher, especially helping with toting large items such as portable kennels and tables. As well as greeting some at the gate, most of which I had to explain to that I had instructed them that they needed to call beforehand to be on the list. The calling was very important, because they would then be given precise instructions on not feeding or watering their animals from 10 pm the previous night.
Many that showed without appointment were in fact people I had encouraged to come earlier and several came by word of mouth, thinking that they could acquire vaccinations at low or no cost for their animals.
All in all it was a success, except that I believe that out of the 23 appointments that were successfully serviced with the spay/neuter services, only 3 were actually residents of the Airport District.
Mary Whetstone, emphatically stated. "3,500 animals arrived at the shelter from the Airport District. This is inhumane. We have GOT to do SOMETHING."
Mary Whetstone and the auxiliary is hoping to have another event this September. This time it will probably be at a location in Ceres, with the focus on the residents of Ceres and some of the South Modesto Area.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Saturday, July 26th 2008, the non-profit organization, the Stanislaus County Animal Services Auxiliary held a Mobile Spay & Neuter Clinic from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. Saturday in the airport neighborhood. The operations were offered at $5, and rabies shots at $2 for those that could provide proof of public assistance or poverty.
Auxiliary President Mary Whetstone took the lead, bright and early at the Sheriff Substation located on Santa Cruz. Several volunteers from the auxiliary showed up, nervously awaiting the animals and pre-set appointments.
I was there as a Spanish translator and general gopher, especially helping with toting large items such as portable kennels and tables. As well as greeting some at the gate, most of which I had to explain to that I had instructed them that they needed to call beforehand to be on the list. The calling was very important, because they would then be given precise instructions on not feeding or watering their animals from 10 pm the previous night.
Many that showed without appointment were in fact people I had encouraged to come earlier and several came by word of mouth, thinking that they could acquire vaccinations at low or no cost for their animals.
All in all it was a success, except that I believe that out of the 23 appointments that were successfully serviced with the spay/neuter services, only 3 were actually residents of the Airport District.
Mary Whetstone, emphatically stated. "3,500 animals arrived at the shelter from the Airport District. This is inhumane. We have GOT to do SOMETHING."
Mary Whetstone and the auxiliary is hoping to have another event this September. This time it will probably be at a location in Ceres, with the focus on the residents of Ceres and some of the South Modesto Area.
Robert Stanford
Airport Neighborhood Activist
http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=%22robert+Stanford%22+modesto
Airport District National Night Out
Yesterday August 5, 2008 Tuesday – was the National Night Out Celebration. The 25th anniversary of this wonderful event that is being put on by communities all across the United States to show solidarity and community unity within neighborhoods.
Airport District was no exception. Though not our first Night Out, this one was indeed spectacular!
We had Sheriff Deputy Moebe with the Stanislaus Sheriff Department in prominent attendance. Passing out Junior Officer badge stickers to the children and constantly looking for opportunities to interact and answer questions from all of those surrounding him and the two bright and shiny Sheriff patrol cars.
Dick Monteith from the Stanislaus Board of Supervisors was there. No, not just for a couple of minutes looking for a photo op or an “I came I saw so there.” – He stayed for the ENTIRE EVENT. Wonderful. And so great to see his interaction with the community he represents. In my opinion, that was the best part of the event for us!
Stanislaus County animal control was there with one of their trucks (a sight we seldom see actually) – and information on proper care for cats and dogs as well as spay an neuter information. Two animal control officers were there to answer questions and visit with the people.
A representative for HealthNet was there with their table as well as a representative from Catholic Charities – offering much needed information for MediCal supplication to needy families.
Friends Outside, they were there with a whole bunch of stuffed animals that they passed out the kids at 6 O’clock sharp.
Airport United, once again, provided tables and approximately 500 hotdogs and sodas for everyone.
And so many other wonderful people and organizations were in attendance. Another success for us and another step on the way of bridging law enforcement and the community. Dispelling fears propagated by myths of the street. Every year is another triumphant step toward community improvement.
Robert Stanford
Community Advocate
Airport District was no exception. Though not our first Night Out, this one was indeed spectacular!
We had Sheriff Deputy Moebe with the Stanislaus Sheriff Department in prominent attendance. Passing out Junior Officer badge stickers to the children and constantly looking for opportunities to interact and answer questions from all of those surrounding him and the two bright and shiny Sheriff patrol cars.
Dick Monteith from the Stanislaus Board of Supervisors was there. No, not just for a couple of minutes looking for a photo op or an “I came I saw so there.” – He stayed for the ENTIRE EVENT. Wonderful. And so great to see his interaction with the community he represents. In my opinion, that was the best part of the event for us!
Stanislaus County animal control was there with one of their trucks (a sight we seldom see actually) – and information on proper care for cats and dogs as well as spay an neuter information. Two animal control officers were there to answer questions and visit with the people.
A representative for HealthNet was there with their table as well as a representative from Catholic Charities – offering much needed information for MediCal supplication to needy families.
Friends Outside, they were there with a whole bunch of stuffed animals that they passed out the kids at 6 O’clock sharp.
Airport United, once again, provided tables and approximately 500 hotdogs and sodas for everyone.
And so many other wonderful people and organizations were in attendance. Another success for us and another step on the way of bridging law enforcement and the community. Dispelling fears propagated by myths of the street. Every year is another triumphant step toward community improvement.
Robert Stanford
Community Advocate
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