As someone engaged in local arts philanthropy, as well as with a group of diverse leaders trying to change communities through organizing, I ask myself often what would make where I live a better place. But to think about this question in earnest means actually trying to define where exactly I live.
As a resident of Southern California for almost 13 years, I’ve pretty much bounced around to all corners of Los Angeles, though my current zip code has me in the “small town” of Santa Monica.
I do business all over the county, crossing city and municipality lines as often as I turn right on red, and the foundation where I work as program officer serves communities ranging from those just around the corner from our Santa Monica office to the Foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains to the neighborhoods around LAX to East and South Los Angeles. (For those of you not from the area, Los Angeles County is about 4,700 square miles, with 81 school districts, 88 cities, and accounts for 27% of California’s population).
So while the massive redevelopment of our downtown area over the last decade may not directly affect my quiet residential neighborhood on the west side, I still want to participate in understanding how it’s going to shape a community and the local economy; though I may not be able to vote for the next mayor of Los Angeles, which frustrates me endlessly—but that’s for another blog post—I still care about and can have a voice in the outcome by learning about the candidates and engaging them on issues I care about.
For me, where I live extends beyond the boundaries of our property line and the city limits; defining it depends on understanding all the parts that make up the whole.
I’ve had the great privilege over the last six years in my work in philanthropy and community organizing, to get to know parts of this region I would not necessarily have stumbled upon on my own, and to therefore meet many wonderful people from all walks of life.
As many people will tell you Los Angeles is one of the most diverse cities and counties in the country, in many cases holding the largest population of certain cultures outside of their native country. Los Angeles Unified Superintendent John Deasy often remarks that, “Los Angeles is America, only sooner.”
Professor and co-director of the University of Southern California’s Center for the Study of Immigrant Integration, Manuel Pastor speaks often about this diversity and the need for supporting those most vulnerable in our community in order for all of us to prosper. I heard him speak not too long ago and again he used a great analogy to explain how we can better respond to the needs of everyone.
He compares the game of chess and a jigsaw puzzle, explaining that in chess there are two colors and obvious pieces that are more powerful and important than others, pieces that can eliminate other pieces, etc. In a jigsaw puzzle, every piece tells a different story but all are essential in telling the complete story. He suggested that we as a nation have been playing too much chess and not enough jigsaw puzzles.
Whenever I write about Los Angeles, I think of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Joan Didion’s seminal collection of essays and the Yeats poem, “The Second Coming,” from which the book—and this blog post—takes its title.
The next line reads, “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold…” which to me signifies the danger of remaining a split society. The context in which both were written is obviously different from where we are now, but I can’t help but see these lines through a modern lens.
How can we move forward if we don’t listen to one another? How can we improve communities for those at the center, without regard for the difficulties facing those on the fringes?
Recognizing that we’re truly all in this together would make where I live a better place, whether it’s about issues of gun violence, the campaign for citizenship, or food deserts. Understanding that the inequities children in South Los Angeles or the San Fernando Valley face in terms of their education and access to the arts and culture that abounds in more affluent areas affects all of our children and has implications for our entire community would make where I live a better place.
Appreciating and accepting differing points of view and learning from them, giving voice to the voiceless, realizing that “until we are all free, we are none of us free,” would make where I live a better place.
“Surely some revelation is at hand…”
