November
2002
This
is What Peace Looks Like: Watts, Los Angeles
The Satya Interview with Aqeela
Sherrills
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In 1992, Aqeela Sherrills did something
extraordinary. In the late ‘80s, war-torn Watts, in South-Central
Los Angeles, was an epicenter of gang violence. It was here, one of
the most hopeless
places on the planet, that Aqeela brokered peace.
During the 1980s, primarily African American and Hispanic youths banded
into gangs in the low-income or poverty-stricken neighborhoods they
lived in. Fiercely loyal, these urban tribes warred against each other
with weapons sufficient for minor armies. Clashes over territory, vengeance
for a murdered gang member, and access to the drug market, commonly
resulted in “drive-by” shootings, executions, and street
warfare. It was an American Beirut.
A unique world evolved that influenced popular culture, with music artists
and styles, clothing brands and fashion. This culture also gave us the
image of the gun-wielding, drug-pushing, hyper-macho, angry gangster
that is mimicked by young people nationwide.
Aqeela Sherrills grew up in Watts, and, after seeing
13 friends killed in gang wars, was inspired to bring the warring factions—the
Crips and Bloods—together to hammer out a peace treaty. Through
faith and perseverance, Aqeela helped turn the hatred
around to create a lasting peace. He also appealed to the community
to get involved in creating a place where they want to live. This is
Aqeela’s story.
Let’s assume that my readers know nothing about your story. Where
would you start?
I would start by saying that I truly believe that Watts is the catalyst
for the next major peace movement in this country; it’ll come
out of a place that looks like hate, that looks like anger and frustration
and despair.
We were able to create a peace treaty between the warring gangs in
this neighborhood, factions of the Crips and Bloods. We have sustained
it
for ten years—not without problems and challenges, however. We
have redefined what peace is and what it looks like for folks in this
community. Peace is not this utopian idea of dashing through a field
of dandelions, you know, it’s hard work. Sometimes the peacemakers
lose their lives in the process. But the key is that individuals consistently
come back to resolve their conflicts to take them the next few steps
towards peace.
Watts is a microcosm of what’s taking place in the country and
in the world: it’s an urban war zone. Over the past 20 years,
in LA county alone, there’ve been over 10,000 gang-related deaths.
That’s roughly the number of lives lost in the Northern Ireland
and Palestinian-Israeli conflicts combined. But because they’re
poor black and brown youths, they have been totally criminalized and
marginalized. “Gang member” is a scapegoat term society
created that makes them inhuman, and when they get killed, people say,
“Oh well, they were gang members.” But these were somebody’s
daughter, somebody’s son, crying out for help in their own way.
There’s this perception that people in urban communities are hardened
killers and it’s not true. They’re bright and intelligent
individuals, but they’re wounded deeply and carrying that around,
which is basically a trigger. They’re only emulating what they
see taking place in the world.
Most of the kids as well as the adults are also suffering from post-traumatic
stress disorder. People have become desensitized to the violence in
this neighborhood, and our approach has been to address this situation,
because it truly threatens a whole generation of young people. I mean,
it already has taken a generation of folks, and we don’t want
it to spread.
How do you go into places and reach people, and turn thinking
around?
We do it in a few ways. When we first started, we had Jim Brown as
a celebrity and he opened a lot of doors for us. But because of the
work
that we’ve done, we kind of gained our own celebrity; it’s
a sort of pass and we can go into just about any community.
We have an unbelievable street network across the country, because
of, unfortunately, the drug trade, gangsterism. We’ve also had a lot
of media [attention]. In many cases, we do our street research first,
and in a matter of days we’ll know who’s in the different
communities and what’s taking place. Then we contact the key gang
members and convene meetings to try to create some type of cease-fire
agreement. We make connections with whoever wants to be part of what’s
going on. There’s a couple of key individuals who have transformed
their lives and have that ability to go in every neighborhood because
they were once out there on the front line.
I understand football star Jim Brown got involved; what was
his role?
We hooked up with Jim Brown in ‘89 and he became the financier
of our work, as well as a guide and mentor. He was running a Life Skills
program inside a prison and recognized the direct correlation between
our work in the streets and what he was doing. We formed the Amer-I-Can
program which is basically a curriculum for the development of self-esteem,
teaching individuals motivation and the processes of goal-setting and
decision-making. Growing up in an environment like this, most likely
you don’t automatically just ‘get’ these [skills].
This curriculum created a different form of language for us, it was
pretty profound.
We traveled across the country for about three years, developing the
program and organizing peace treaties in different cities. Then I came
back home to LA to focus on the peace process here. For about two years,
it was beautiful; but then people started falling back to things they
were doing in the past. So, three years ago my brother and I created
the Community Self-Determination Institute [CSDI].
We run the largest prevention and retrieval program in the county,
with conflict mediators in three housing developments here. In April,
for
the tenth anniversary of the peace treaty, we launched a ten-year strategic
initiative—The Passage to Peace—to bring gang violence to
an end. We developed what we call grassroots commissions, or neighborhood
councils, basically organizing and teaching them to become the stakeholders
that they are in their communities. Gangs are responsible for the community—they’ve
already said “this is our territory;” and it’s about
flipping their consciousness, to protecting and providing a service
to the neighborhood.
We have a vision, we’re going to make Watts a place to raise our
children. We don’t want to move to a better neighborhood because
this is a better neighborhood. But it requires us taking responsibility
for it. We’re also looking at creating an alternative economy,
because Watts has a 20 percent unemployment rate and has had that pretty
much for 30 or 40 years.
Twenty percent unemployment?
Absolutely, regardless of how the economy changes, there’s a whole
underworld in Watts. People hustle, have sidewalk sales, they do all
types of stuff to sustain themselves because they have to. That is the
reality we live in. Recently some friends and I pooled our resources
and purchased a little strip mall on the main thoroughfare. We’re
going to open the first coffee shop, the first bookstore and have a
writer’s workshop, to create community around these vacant spaces.
I mean, this is the first coffee shop and bookstore in a ten square-mile
radius. This is a community of 80,000 people, but there’s nothing
here, it’s been branded because of the struggles it’s been
through. That’s also why Watts is a catalyst for a major peace
movement, it’s a trend-setter: there’s so much genius in
this neighborhood, it’s unbelievable; this particular community
set the trend for gangsterism, music and entertainment. Sometimes in
the roughest places, you find the most beauty.
We’ve been able to separate conflict from violence here; conflict
is a healthy thing, but unresolved conflict is what we’re seeking
to change. We’re not an anti-gang agency, you can never break
up a gang, they are a response to the culture—it’s a surrogate
family. [Gang life] is a totally different world that has its own rules
and regulations. But you can shift the thinking and focus it towards
something great.
How do you deal with people who have such a history of hating each
other and literally want to kill each other, and get them to sit down
and
agree to a cease-fire and agree that it’s in everyone’s
best interest to work for peace?
That’s a step-by-step process. There’s no magic to it.
It’s about who can communicate with these individuals and touch
their hearts, helping each one to find their own humanity to see that
there’s a different way. It’s based upon relationships and
can’t be motivated by anything except love. It’s about igniting
a conversation about just, you know, life—what makes people happy
or sad; what they fear; what things they can change in the neighborhood.
And this can be done anywhere.
In every situation, in every conflict, what we’re actually negotiating
on is the simple stuff. It’s about helping them go back to that
place where they were first violated, and helping them to resolve those
wounds so that they don’t become a burden in their lives, and
so they can operate without them.
I’ve been speaking at a lot of conferences that are mainly environmentalist,
about violence and resolving conflict in urban war zones, and a lot
of people ask how those two things relate. They’re related in
the sense that there are human beings who are killing animals and trees,
and killing the oceans and the biosphere, and that’s the same
violence that’s emanating [from the] wars in their personal life.
If we keep trying to attack the symptoms, as opposed to focusing on
the root cause—the human being and the spirit of the human being—we’re
going to waste all of our time. We have to merge all of these movements
into a movement for the reverence of human life.
How has law enforcement reacted, are they an impediment to
the community’s progress?
The black community has never had any protection from law enforcement
or the justice system. Law enforcement is deeply invested in the problems
in this community. In the first year of the peace treaty, the gang
homicides
dropped 44 percent, and law enforcement saw that as a threat to their
job security. In LA county alone the LAPD has a $100 million litigation
fund; that’s more than every prevention and intervention program
in the county. It’s ridiculous, you know, it’s not fair.
All law enforcement, however, is not bad—we just have to organize
ourselves so that we can play a major role in how law enforcement polices
the community. It’s funded with our tax dollars, so therefore
we could have a say in how they do things. They have to understand
what
the conditions are in the community that produce the symptoms we see.
So we partner with them. We have an excellent relationship with the
sheriff. He doesn’t lie to us about the problems of policing
on the street. When an individual wants to solve the problem instead
of
the symptoms, he becomes a real haven to the community.
With law enforcement, when you keep seeing them be so brutal, how do
you not take to the streets? Amadou Diallo for example—there are
more extreme and less extreme cases, but it’s just constant.
I think that we’ve got to be more strategic and more focused.
As James Baldwin said, as long as we’re out screaming and protesting
and begging for our rights, the slavemaster will always know he has
us under control. When that kind of thing happens, we can go directly
to where the source is, to whoever is responsible—local politicians
or whatever—and put pressure on. That person is supported with
public dollars. When individuals do things like that and the system
turns around and protects them, that protection is saying it’s
okay. It’s our responsibility to stand up and do something.
We live in a culture that’s about suppressing authentic emotions.
Folks carry stuff like abuse and abandonment around their whole life,
and die with it. Folks need to see inside themselves and confront the
injury and the hate. We have to create an environment, a sacred space,
in our personal lives, to allow that to come out. That would totally
revolutionize the whole tension in this country. With LA law enforcement—if
the chief of police and some officers got up and apologized to the community
for all of the wrongs that they’ve done, under the badge as our
protectors and servers. If they say, we want to start off on a new note,
I’m telling you, it would blow people’s minds. If George
Bush apologized for slavery in this country, if they teach people the
true story about what happened, it would do so much good. You can only
conquer hate with love.
You remind me of an interview I heard of Godfrey Reggio, the
director of the new film Naqoyqatsi, who said, “I hope that I
have the courage to be hopeless about the world we live in now, in order
to be hopeful that we’ll turn to something more attune to being
a human being.” Being more humane. Where do you put your energies
towards building the new paradigm?
You start right where you are. You see, the most powerful thing that
we can do is connect with another human being; and it’s the scariest
thing. People are a literal reflection of who we are, and the things
that we love and hate about them are the things we love and hate about
ourselves. There’s a lot of stuff to do. For instance, we’ve
got a lot of people in our country who are fighting to stop wars in
other countries, but if they’d focus on stopping the war in our
own house [country], it would be an example for people in other countries.
We’re the world superpower. We police the world, trying to save
it and make it more democratic every day, but we don’t practice
democracy here.
This country is at the same point that Babylon and Rome—all those
great empires—were; we’re at a critical crossroads. It’s
dying extremely hard and it wants to take many people and things with
it. My vote is that we, who are conscious about what’s taking
place, [need to] focus all of our time and energy on building a new
paradigm. George Bush and all are going to do what they’re going
to do; I can’t give it no energy.
Until we address our own ills… Black folks hate themselves and
they feel inferior. White folks have been conditioned to feel superior.
I’m not talking about black vs. white, I’m talking about
the conditioning process itself. It’s so deeply rooted that it’s
subtle; people [don’t] even see it most of the time. But it’s
there, and it really needs to be addressed. To do that, the heart has
to be bust open. We try to do everything in life to keep our hearts
from being broken. But there is so much beauty in having a broken heart—there’s
pain, but you discover things in yourself that you ain’t never
thought about before. We live in the microwave generation, people want
everything now. We’ve forgotten to really enjoy the process of
achieving the success that we want in our life. The process is everything
because once you achieve the goal, you realize, “I thought this
was it,” but it’s not.
That’s something of a meditation right there. Do you
have anything else you want to add? One thing to keep in mind is that
a lot of my readers live in New York City.
I would add that in New York especially, I think people probably connect
a lot more than maybe in a place like LA. LA is an individualist town.
New York would be an amazing place to launch a movement of connecting
with people, and I think it would spread like wildfire. Instead of
just
staring at a person on the subway, you actually speak, because you
never know who you might meet. You might be passing God. You might
see this
person every single day, and in a simple conversation, [discover that]
in their story this person has the answers to all your problems. You
might just have a two-minute conversation, but at least you made that
connection. Our biggest resource lives right next door in many cases.
I’m not talking about money or material things, I’m talking
about that gift of helping me to open up and see deeply into myself,
to still my own waters. And it’s a scary place to be. My work
is truly an extension of me. As I resolve the wounds in my own life,
I’m able to see more of what I need to do in the community I
live in and that I love.
To learn more about CSDI, visit www.csdiwatts.com
or call (323) 586-8791. CSDI welcomes visitors to Watts and does guided
tours each week to show peace in action.