On my first visit to Fruitvale I found a vibrant, tight-knit neighborhood that felt far removed from the big city that contained it. International Blvd. between 33rd and 36th Avenues was filled with, what to many, were reminders of home, south of the border. Dress shops catering to girls turning 15, bakeries smelling of cinnamon, and little ‘tienditas’ selling calling cards, snacks, and other cultural knick-knacks all made the area feel like the center of a small town.
Back then, people I spoke with complained about crime, a lack of funding for the police and city services, and of high levels of victimization (like muggings and assaults), because of their race and the possibility that they were in the country illegally, and would not report the crimes.
Months later, I have discovered that those two perceptions of the neighborhood are both absolutely true, but the breadth and nuance of the opinions and realities between these points is greater than I imagined.
Take, for example, the issue of police. Many residents complain about a lack of police, and of patrol officers who drive around in cars, but never walk the streets, where they could meet residents and get to know members of the community. To make matters worse, residents say that the patrols are infrequent at that.
Many other residents believe that the police victimize their community. When residents hear that tens of thousands of dollars are being spent seeking a gang injunction, they complain that it is a waste of money. They believe that the money should be spent on after-school programs, community organizations, and education.
Adding to the two opposing, almost contradictory viewpoints is the third one—one that acknowledges that while some police officers used their badge and rank as a way to exert power over the community, others worked hard to establish trust. People who work in local community organizations and schools say that the city had a successful program in which plainclothes officers visited health clinics, day labor centers, free lunches for the homeless, and schools. However, cuts in funding and layoffs in the police force forced closure of the program, prompting some to question the wisdom of (and magical appearance of) the over $100,000 dollars spent (so far) on the injunction.
Speaking to the principal of school in east Oakland, I learned of the very personal struggles of families working three jobs to make enough money to put food on the table, all the while trying to keep their children in school and out of gangs. I was told of the strength many parents find in each other and in the school. These stories reinforce my perception of the “small-town feel” of the area.
But this is a small town with big city problems—violence, widespread victimization of particular communities, and vicious gang activity. These are very real threats to the cohesion of the community, and hamper efforts by community members to speak out—to each other and to the police.
I feel that my initial opinion about the Fruitvale neighborhood was correct, but it was also just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. As they say in Thailand “patchee loy na,” — “sprinkle the surface with coriander”—which means that even a sour, spoiled soup can be made to look delicious with a simple garnish of coriander.
Appearances can be deceiving. But more importantly, there are no simple answers to complex questions.
