Latino Middle Class Growing in Suburbia

Bounded on two sides by freeways and largely secluded amid its better known neighbors, this slice of the San Gabriel Valley embodies the suburban dream and is emblematic of the growing Latino middle class.

Most call the community North Whittier, but others say it’s Avocado Heights, Industry, Bassett or La Puente.

“When I say La Puente, people know where it is,” said resident Frank Corona. “But this isn’t La Puente.”

What this is, Corona and many of his neighbors say, is a suburban jewel, a place where family, neighborhood and school reign supreme. It’s a community of almost 8,000 people where parents take their kids to school in minivans and Suburbans, or--if they own a horse--on horseback.

“For us, this isn’t a dream, this is reality,” said Corona, who juggles going to college with helping his wife care for four children ranging in age from 3 to 8. “This is a quiet, nice, family-oriented community.”

This is also a community where Latinos, who compose two-thirds of its population, form a low-key but integral part of everyday life.

Such communities have long existed in Southern California--largely out of sight and out of the public’s mind. They are not what people usually think of as “Latino communities.” When the term is used, it usually conjures up images about poorer immigrant areas, such as Pico-Union or East L.A., which get more media attention.

But according to some researchers, middle-class communities with substantial numbers of Latino residents--among them Pico Rivera, Norwalk, Alhambra and North Whittier--will multiply.

“On the everyday level, that’s what the 21st century is going to look like,” said researcher Harry Pachon, president of the Tomas Rivera Policy Institute. “More Latinos in the middle class. That’s the great untold story of the Latino community. We are everywhere.”

Pachon said “the presence of Latinos might be disturbing in the minds of some people,” but he finds the emerging Latino middle class a “hope for the future” of the region.

“Part of the American dream being carried out in these communities is to be more American--home ownership, marriage, the work ethic,” Pachon said.

Last year, a study by Gregory Rodriguez, a Pepperdine University researcher, showed that almost half of all Southern California households led by U.S.-born Latinos had incomes above $35,000. Among Latinos in the North Whittier area, those earning more than that figure--a rough index of middle-class status--exceed 70%. Moreover, half of the households in the community earn more than $50,000.

Demographers say many Latinos, using L.A.’s Eastside barrios where they grew up as a springboard, have moved eastward to more affluent areas, stretching from Montebello through the San Gabriel Valley to the Inland Empire. North Whittier is in the middle of this route to Latino suburbia.

Corona is part of that movement. Although born in Tijuana, he grew up in East L.A. and went to school there. When he and his wife, Annette, decided to marry, their dream was to move to a place like West Covina. They eventually bought a home there, thinking they had finally “made it.”

But West Covina turned out to be something less than they had hoped for--even though Latinos were among their neighbors.

“We knew the people next to us and maybe a couple or two across the street, but that was about it,” Corona said. “If we went up to somebody and said, ‘Hi,’ they’d react like, ‘Why are you talking to me?’ ”

After a time, they decided to move to the place where Annette grew up--North Whittier. They moved in with Annette’s parents and began raising a family. Corona, who injured his back as a warehouse worker for United Parcel Service, is taking health care courses at Cal State Long Beach.

They have not regretted the choice at all. “This is reality, a place where working-class people mix with others very well,” Corona said.

Latinos make up 67% of North Whittier’s residents, with whites composing 19%, Asian Americans 13% and blacks less than 1%.

At first glance, North Whittier doesn’t come across as a predominately Latino community. It looks like another well-kept example of suburbia--street after street of rambling ranch-style homes, appointed with late-model sports utility vehicles. But after a closer look, the area’s Latino features come through.

Principal Alex Gasporra, the longtime head of North Whittier Andrews Elementary School, routinely uses an affectionate term in Spanish, mijo or mija (meaning my child), in addressing many of his pupils. Latinos make up 70% of the school’s 520 students.

At Neighborhood Watch meetings, some of the group’s strategy to fight crime is discussed alternately in English and Spanish. Ruben Hernandez, the group’s chairman who, like Corona, was born in Mexico, routinely apologizes to members like Marilyn Kamimura, who doesn’t speak Spanish.

“I don’t want to exclude anyone from anything,” Hernandez said to her during one meeting at his home.

“That’s OK, Ruben,” Kamimura laughed. “We’re all here for our neighborhood.”

And the Mexican tradition of living near relatives and close families lives on in North Whittier. Residents who grew up there, such as Annette Corona, come back to live there.

The Coronas have relatives across the street and down the block from their home. In addition, the kindergarten teacher at the elementary school, who has taught two of their children and a niece, resides a few doors away.

But the close, neighborly relationships do not work for everyone. The in-laws of one of Corona’s brothers moved in about a block away a few years ago, deciding that what they had heard about North Whittier was worth experiencing, leaving their home in El Monte. But after only nine months, he said, the in-laws moved back to El Monte.

“I was surprised when they said they didn’t like it,” Corona said. “ ‘We bought a house,’ they said. ‘We didn’t buy the whole neighborhood.’ I guess they didn’t like people asking too many questions.”

Most residents say such discontent is rare in North Whittier. It is common for residents to know just about everyone on their block and to call out to neighbors. One gregarious soul is Hernandez, the Neighborhood Watch chairman. Blinded by a gunshot wound at 23, he is known for his loud greetings when he’s walking through the area.

“Good to see you,” he says.

Those familiar with Hernandez’s story shake their heads in admiration. “He’s truly amazing,” said Hector Guerra, one of the watch group’s block captains. “He sees things other people don’t.”

Residents are fiercely loyal to the community and point to its accomplishments. Its anti-graffiti campaign, which began in 1978, has spread to other communities as far away as Hollywood. Residents cover walls and other vulnerable spots with an unending pattern of dangling brown vines with green leaves.

“It’s so simple but it works,” said Hernandez. “Most kids leave it alone. If they mess it up, we’re out to paint more vines and leaves.”

Of particular pride to the residents is the elementary school. It acts as the area’s focal point because there is no City Hall in unincorporated North Whittier. Community meetings and events, such as the recent Fall Festival, are staged there.

Built in 1966, the school was the first public campus in the San Gabriel Valley--and one of the first in Southern California--to require uniforms for students. The move in 1992 was universally applauded as a good way to discourage gangs and promote school spirit.

Its students routinely do well on achievement tests, and only 5% of the enrollment of 520 is in bilingual classes.

At times, the community pride in the school can be a bit much. Parents get a little miffed when Whittier City School District officials, who govern the school, refer to it as Andrews--named in honor of a longtime superintendent. The locals still stubbornly call the school by its original name, North Whittier. To pacify everyone, Gasporra calls it North Whittier Andrews.

According to Los Angeles County sheriff’s officials, the area’s Neighborhood Watch program is well-organized and is considered one of the best in the valley.

It is so effective that Hernandez and others from North Whittier are continually asked to tell their story to other communities. Crime in the neighborhood isn’t much of a problem although everyone keeps a wary eye on the area’s street gang, the Locos.

Another plus for North Whittier is the peaceful coexistence of suburbanites and horse lovers.

Part of North Whittier, east of Workman Mill Road, includes the Avocado Heights Equestrian District, created in 1990 through the efforts of resident Alice E. Sweeney, who died in 1993.

The designation allows some residents to stable horses on their property and riders to travel unimpeded to trails that connect with the nearby San Gabriel River. There is also an equestrian arena at the local park.

On a recent morning, in what most urban dwellers might think is the impossible in Los Angeles, Ruth Arriola took her son on horseback to school, and then went for a three-hour ride with her father-in-law on the nearby dirt trails. “That’s something you can do here,” she said.

North Whittier was once part of the 49,000-acre Rancho La Puente. In 1895, owner Joseph Workman lost the land to O. T. Bassett in a mortgage default. Bassett subdivided some of the land and his son, Charles, inherited the rest.

Up to World War II, the area was mostly rural, dotted by walnut groves and avocado trees.

After the war, residential development began to shape the area into a middle-class enclave, with a liberal sprinkling of horse stables and some open spaces.

Although called North Whittier, the unincorporated area is a good five miles from Whittier City Hall. Despite its connection to the Whittier City School District and the Whittier post office, which handles its mail, North Whittier hasn’t been wooed by other cities for inclusion in their areas. And the residents aren’t in the mood to form their own city. They like things the way they are.

The fact that most people have not heard of North Whittier often leads to confusion over its precise location. But that’s not all bad. “Part of the charm of North Whittier,” said public relations consultant Valerie Martinez, “is that people don’t know that it’s there.”

Other than a shopping center with a supermarket, a laundry, a coffee shop and a hardware store, there is no retail shopping district near North Whittier.

Some residents, such as Nicolas Balcazar, grouse about having to go to Pico Rivera to shop, but most don’t complain about the isolation that seems to define North Whittier. “Living here is like living in the country,” Balcazar said.

The area is made up almost entirely of single-family homes, with prices ranging from about $150,000 to $400,000. The median home value is near the county average of $220,000.

Because it is not a city, North Whittier must rely on the county for basic services, and most residents seem happy with the arrangement. They say that the Sheriff’s Department has been responsive when a call is put in for a patrol car to come by.

In addition to attending classes and family life, Corona is busy with Neighborhood Watch and other community activities. He helped stage a forum at the elementary school to boost interest in the recent Whittier City school board election. Next time an election comes around, more than one of Corona’s neighbors say, he ought to run.

Corona, for now, begs off, explaining there are other things to worry about. For example, he is concerned about his kids’ education.

And there’s his family’s commitment to athletic programs; he and his wife coach youth baseball, basketball and soccer.

“Middle-class problems,” he calls them.

Suburban Gem

Shaded area, northeast of the junction of the San Gabriel River and the Pomona freeways goes by many names, including North Whittier and Avocado Heights.