America’s obsession with anniversaries may be likened to an addiction. During the course of this year, in particular, we have or will commemorate the recurring date of numerous notable events.
These range from the frivolous (the 40th anniversary of “Saturday Night Live,” the 45th anniversary of “Monday Night Football,” and the 60th anniversary of Disneyland’s opening) to the truly landmark: the 50th anniversary of the Voting Rights Act; the 70th anniversary of the atomic bomb blast over Hiroshima; and the founding of the United Nations. In another month or so, we will observe the 20th anniversary of the O.J. Simpson murder case.
On the local level this month, we will also observe the half-century anniversary of the Watts Rebellion (or Riot depending on your political persuasion.)
This event is arguably the pinnacle of numerous episodes of civil unrest that transpired during the 1960s, and now after a series of events that have reignited the question of civil rights in the United States, the Watts uprising is perhaps most valuable as a touchstone upon which we might assess the ever volatile subject of race relations.
Things gained and lost
Celestine Palmer worked in the educational system before, during and after both Los Angeles uprisings (1965 and 1992). A veteran of the Los Angeles Unified School District, she was on a sabbatical while her husband pursued graduate studies at Stanford University as the Watts community exploded in outrage over the perceived mistreatment of Marquette Frye. Returning to the city to resume her career, she toiled at several positions, eventually becoming a LAUSD truant officer, and witnessed better coordination between educators and law enforcement.
As a resident of View Park during the 1992 unrest, Palmer took a middleclass view of what transpired; her daughter’s car was stolen during that period and the neighborhood gossip was dominated by concerns of security and the threat to their property.
Yet after all this, Palmer believes the rebellions/riots were necessary.
“It (the original 1965 uprising) brought attention to so many discrepancies in the Black community,” Palmer said.
The reason for the anger behind the civil unrest was and (is not) limited to police abuse. Inequality in education, employment, public service and more all served as kindling to stoke the fires in both 1965 and 1992.
As government resources were poured into studies (seeking the causes of the community’s dissatisfaction) at the city, state, and federal levels, Palmer suggests one missing ingredient was lack of follow through on the part of government.
”Some of those recommendations (included in the various studies) were never implemented,” says Palmer, who bases her conclusion on what she saw as an education professional. But there were positive outcomes as a result of the civil unrest.
The events of 1965 spurred the establishment of Cal Sate University Dominquez Hills and the opening of’ Martin Luther King Hospital in the early 1970s.
The university was established, in large part, as a response to the African American outcry for higher education standard and opportunities.
The establishment of King Hospital was a major accomplishment considering the dearth of medical facilities in the same area previously. But the victory was bittersweet because, according to life-long Angeleno State Sen. Holly Mitchell, the hospital years later found itself “… compromised under the sheer weight of the social conditions that the community was enduring.”
The conditions Mitchell mentioned included gangs, drugs, and poverty. And while the demographics of the area have changed to predominantly Hispanic from mostly Black, the situation still faces the same common denominator of the haves and the have nots.
Mitchell sums this up with the observation that the “… triggers that ignited these events are still in place today.”
Bittersweet memories
For Anthony “Amde” Hamilton, 1965 was also a defining moment that shaped the rest of his life. As one third of the pioneering spoken word group, The Watts Prophets, spawned by the Watts Writer’s Workshop in the wake of the 1965 uprising, he views the aftermath of the social upheaval with scorn.
“We ended up with no community,” he says flatly.
The organizations, programs and projects initiated in the wake of the insurrection were merely a type of experimental “social engineering” that fell flat exactly like the housing projects that sprang up all over the country after World War II.
He is especially dismissive about “achievements” that came about in the years following the 1965 unrest.
Jenelle Bossette’s experience paralleled Sen. Mitchell’s. Like the politician, she was very young when the 1992 civil unrest occurred. (Mitchell was just shy of her first birthday in 1965). Bosette was all of two years old when the police officers were acquitted in the Rodney King beating; this once again propelled the city into chaos.
And while the passage of time brings with it transformation, Bosette is cynical about improvements involving this aspect of the American experience—race.
“I don’t think anything has changed. There is still police brutality and disparity between the races,” said Bosette. “The system needs to be destroyed and rebuilt in order for us to see lasting and meaningful change,” she believes.
For Pete White, 1992 catapulted him from brokering gang truces into organizing voter registration, and participation in political action committees, to his current position as founder of (Los Angeles Community Action Committee (LA CAN.)
He mulls over the considerable fortunes poured into a community where poverty is still common. Between 2013 and 2015 homelessness among Blacks increased 35 percent, while White homelessness actually decreased 30 percent. Presently, one in 11 African Americans locally are homeless. Because of this, activism and even demonstrations are still appropriate.
“It is worth it to tap into the ‘ire’ of the people,” White declares.
Jazz singer Ed Reed is a product of the circumstances that shaped the 1965 uprising in Los Angeles, and may have a more balanced take on things that were gained and lost.
“It (the civil unrest) changed the world at great cost to everybody,” he states. “It showed the outside world that that we (the people of Watts) didn’t have to take that stuff (abuse), and we would retaliate. We were no longer passive.”
The love songs Reed sings aren’t directly about social strife, but are still informed by the disappointment that is part and parcel of the human experience, he feels..
“… smooth ballads are about heart break,” in which people don’t get what they want,” explains Reed. “The trick is learning to deal with that disappointment. The job (of life) is about being at peace in the moment.”
Time goes on and the anniversaries pile up. A year has passed since the death of Ferguson, Mo., resident Michael Brown, another event marked by demonstrations, violent unrest, shootings, arrests, and the resignations of a police chief and city manager.
The solution, to this disappointment and the quest for tranquility in a melting pot of dissimilar elements, remains elusive and ill-defined.
