Michael Weiner Weiner is a fourth-year
history and political science student. His column analyzing issues
of interest to the UCLA community runs on Mondays. E-mail him
at
Some Westwood residents are mad as hell. They say students are
too loud. They claim that firecrackers and gunshots have become
commonplace in the North Village, where many students live. They
want their community to be more like a quiet residential
neighborhood and less like a rambunctious college town.
In recent weeks, many longstanding Westwood dwellers have spoken
up ““ by way of police complaints and letters to the editor
““ about their perception that students are getting more and
more rowdy as time goes on. And they don’t like it one
bit.
In reality, the recent complaints are not an anomaly. They are
completely consistent with the grand narrative of Westwood Village,
where the classic struggle between homeowners and students has been
going on ever since UCLA first hailed to the hills of Westwood back
in 1929.
More than anything else, Westwood is a community defined by two
competing ““ and sometimes contradictory ““ identities: a
fun college town catering primarily to students and an upscale
Westside hamlet where homeowners’ associations rule.
These two identities are largely mediated by the local purveyors
of commerce, who are more than happy to tap into both markets.
Their institutional arm, the Westwood Village Business Improvement
District, should ideally seek to maintain a balance of inexpensive,
informal establishments that appeal to UCLA students as well as
fancier fare with the potential to lure in the Bel Air/Brentwood
bourgeoisie.
But in recent years, that balance has shifted decisively toward
the upscale Westsiders, with the opening of high-class, high-priced
restaurants like Eurochow and Tanino Ristorante, the eviction of
the village’s lone dance club Duet and the impending
construction of an opulent Ralph’s Fresh Fare on Le Conte
Avenue rather than a more reasonably priced standard-issue
supermarket.
Increasingly, Westwood is becoming a place that shuns the
thousands of students who reside in its environs. The noise
complaints are just the most recent case in point. But the most
illustrative example is the long, sad story of Duet Nightclub,
which resided on Westwood Boulevard until the summer of 1999.
Before being evicted, Duet owner Chris Mallick had been engaged
in a drawn-out battle with local homeowners’ associations,
who regularly alerted police to alleged fire safety and dancing
violations at the club, technicalities that go unnoticed at most
comparable establishments in Los Angeles.
But Westwood is different. Homeowners have put a stranglehold on
nightlife in the village, and they use an arcane document known as
the “Westwood Village Specific Plan” to prevent any
activity that might violate their precious zoning ordinances, one
of which bars businesses from allowing dancing on their premises
without special permission from a zoning administrator. Duet did
not have, and was unable to attain, that permission.
The bottom line is that Duet attracted a young and
disproportionately African American clientele and Westwood
homeowners did not like it. The connection was not lost on Mallick,
who enlisted the assistance of Rev. Jesse Jackson’s
Rainbow/PUSH Coalition before he was evicted.
Duet was the only dance club in Westwood. Now there are none.
Students must venture to West Hollywood or Santa Monica for some
Saturday night booty-shaking.
Westwood’s evolution away from student-friendliness is not
surprising. Local homeowners are wealthy and politically
well-connected, and City Councilman Mike Feuer sometimes seems like
little more than a handservant to do their bidding.
Meanwhile, UCLA’s undergraduate student government has
largely turned away from such issues in recent years, preferring to
concentrate on the crisis of student diversity that plagues this
university. This has left a vacuum of leadership for those who are
concerned with Westwood’s capacity to serve the interests of
UCLA students.
Furthermore, the “malling” of Ackerman Union over
the last five years ““ in which the students’
association has brought services to campus that used to be the
domain of Westwood businesses ““ has suggested to some in the
commercial community that UCLA students are no longer very
interested in spending their money in the village.
I don’t think that’s the case, and I suspect that
most students would agree with me. If Westwood had bars, clubs and
live music venues, if it had a real grocery store and more
inexpensive restaurants, students would come.
Homeowners might not like it, they might complain about
rowdiness, they might be mad as hell. But they’re not the
only people who live here. This is our community as much as theirs
and it’s time for them to recognize that.