“No man is an island,” you may have read in high
school.
“Unless,” poet John Donne should have written,
“he lives in Westwood.”
Castaway stories aren’t uncommon. A forlorn, drunk
partygoer bemoans a lack of bar choices; Maloney’s, Brew Co.
and Acapulco just don’t offer the vast array of possibilities
ambitious barflies need to sustain themselves.
If only there were more bars, you know, like in a big city.
Freshmen, whose glossy admittance brochures touted Los
Angeles’s myriad and glamorous attractions, find themselves
rarely leaving the Hill.
They shirk visits to the Getty, Hollywood or Koreatown for the
comfy convenience of Bruin Cafe, free movie screenings and maybe if
they’re feeling fancy, a trip to Whole Foods.
But even if we have a reason to avoid the city, there’s a
consequence of our isolation that’s just plain
inexcusable.
We’re cut off, tuned out and dead-flat unaware of L.A.
social issues.
At a time when student groups are busily raising awareness about
nearly everything, it’s strangely rare to hear students
discussing the issues challenging Angelenos every day.
Last spring, for instance, when residents of South Central were
being evicted from their community farm near Vernon Station, barely
a word was heard about it on campus.
But the rest of the city was in a furor.
The drama was nearly epic.
Humble urban farmers clashed with a big, snarly developer. Mayor
Villaraigosa tried to broker peace. Activists yelled and waved
banners. Actress Daryl Hannah heroically lodged herself in a walnut
tree.
The livelihoods of some 350 families who relied on the farm for
vegetables were threatened no less than 20 miles away, according to
the Los Angeles Times, and activists on campus merely murmured.
UCLA students led a tenacious movement last year to protest the
genocide in Darfur. At a point, hundreds of students united for a
march around campus. Sudan wasn’t too far away to get them
worked up. So why not the farm?
Maybe there was just something about it.
Vegetables, it’s true, can sometimes be bland.
Here’s something more spicy: A review by Harvard
researchers reveals that the graduation rate in the Los Angeles
Unified School District is about 45 percent. Among Hispanics,
it’s 39 percent, Native Americans 40 percent, and blacks 47
percent.
Even whites, with their supposed privilege, are graduating at a
pathetic 67 percent.
While plenty of us are outraged about black admissions on
campus, teens don’t have access to schools that will keep
them around long enough to even apply to UCLA.
There’s no reason we should be affected less by these
issues than we are by the dying in Darfur or the war in Iraq.
In a sense, they should affect us more.
They are tangible and nearby, and we can do something about
them.
And a lot of us are.
Students in Bruin Corps tutor students in L.A.’s
underserved schools, working to increase the graduation rates.
The Muslim Students Association recently ran a benefit for Los
Angeles’ homeless, who number ““ fun fact ““ at
nearly 80,000, according to a report by the Economic Roundtable and
the Institute for the Study of Homelessness and Poverty at the
Weingart Center. Other groups are doing more.
Unfortunately, though, these acts of service haven’t yet
translated into a broad consciousness of L.A. issues. This should
be the time we think differently about Los Angeles.
When county prisons are so overcrowded that inmates are dying in
riots, we must write the governor.
When there are homeless with neither shelter nor food, we must
get outraged.
When Los Angeles’ youth goes to schools so poor that they
leave hoping to work in McDonald’s instead of the Young
Research Library, we must scream to the superintendent that
we’ve had enough.
With this column, I’ll do my part. Among other topics,
I’ll bring you opinions on the issues playing out right down
the street.
With a little attentiveness, our campus can, and will, seem like
less of an island.
If you want to help build a life raft, tell Reed at
treed@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to
viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.