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More than language Mail Tribune photos / Bob Pennell Medford police officer Willy Rojas makes a follow-up visit with east Medford resident Julia Escobedo. She and other members of the Hispanic community say they appreciate the help afforded by Spanish-speaking officers. Medford police find their relations with Spanish speakers improve when officers are part of Hispanic culture By SARAH LEMON Mail Tribune It was more than two years ago, but Lidia Lopez immediately can call to mind the day her 3-year-old daughter, Deisy, was hit by a car while playing outside their Columbus Avenue home. Lopez remembers yelling for help in Spanish, her native language. And she remembers not being understood by police and paramedics. It was lucky for her, she said, that officer Willy Rojas - fluent in Spanish - came to the family's aid. "He was able to interpret for me. He stayed with me, went with me to the hospital. It was just the best thing that could have happened that day," Lopez said through an interpreter. Deisy escaped the accident with a broken leg. And the Lopez family - from a culture historically mistrustful of law enforcement and government - was able to put its confidence in Medford police. With 94 sworn officers, Medford police boasts the largest number of native Spanish speakers in Rogue Valley police agencies - two. Admittedly, the city of Medford and the police department still have a long way to go until the number of Hispanic employees reflect the community's Hispanic population, said Doug Detling, Medford human resources director. But for those who speak limited English or only Spanish, those officers and other Hispanic staff at the police department are invaluable resources. Seven years ago, Medford police forged one of its first links with the Hispanic community by hiring Maria Swann, a Mexican-American, as a community service officer. She now works full time as a Spanish interpreter and cultural liaison. For the valley's Hispanic community, she is a lifeline. Her name and phone number travel by word of mouth through the valley's tight-knit network of Hispanic families, friends and neighbors. Swann says taking phone calls from Spanish speakers who have questions about a traffic citation or court date makes up much of her daily work. Often she assists the records department when clerks can't help a Spanish speaker and she translates department signs and forms. She even goes as far as walking wary newcomers to the American criminal justice system in the courthouse across the street and introducing them to a court clerk who speaks Spanish. As the first generation in her family to grow up in the United States, 42-year-old Swann says she understands the Hispanic struggle. Born in Zacatecas, Mexico, Swann came to this country as a 4-year-old when her father got a job building greenhouses on a California poinsettia ranch. In kindergarten, she spoke no English and remembers being the only Hispanic kid in the class. She also remembers negative feelings about police because of language barriers. The first time Swann's father was pulled over by a police officer, he and his 7-year-old daughter were headed to their neighborhood grocery store. The officer told Swann that the family's green Ford station wagon had a taillight out. Swann translated for her father, who didn't speak much English, but she said she remembers being terrified and wondering if her dad would go to jail because he wouldn't be able communicate. As proud as Swann is of her heritage, she says she always valued speaking English properly. "I believe the only thing that makes us equal is education," she said. "So if you educate yourself, you will be equal." As the first in his family to graduate from college, officer Bernab� Maya knows firsthand the Hispanic struggle to get an education. Maya, 24, came to the United States from Mexico when he was 2. He said he couldn't speak a word of English when he started kindergarten in California, but by the time he was a third-grader at Jackson Elementary in Medford, he was more or less fluent in the new language. Maya spent his early childhood in a white-washed, one-room shanty perched on the edge of a pear orchard off South Stage Road. He said he remembers how tiring it was to help pick Rogue Valley pears and California tomatoes and decided in his early teens that agricultural work wasn't for him. In school, Maya excelled as an honor roll student and started working with Medford police as a community service officer while still a teenager. He completed a business degree with a minor in criminology at Southern Oregon University last year. Maya's parents, he said, are proud of his education and his job. One of his early goals as a police officer was to be a link with the city's Hispanic community. But after six years with the police department, Maya said he feels like he's just getting started being that link. He patrols the neighborhood around North Medford High School, but he assists other officers when they have to communicate with a Spanish speaker. Language skills alone help other Spanish-speaking officers communicate, but Maya's cultural knowledge often makes police work easier. On a call, for example, it's a must to speak to the Hispanic father-figure, considered the head of the household. Whenever he or other officers speak to Hispanics in their native language, one can see the relief on their faces, Maya said. "You feel more comfortable knowing this person is not only of your own race, but he will know everything you're saying," Lopez said. Yet speaking Spanish is sometimes not enough to start a conversation. Maya said he knows a young boy living next-door to his parents who used to duck behind a fence whenever he saw the police officer. Getting the Hispanic community to overcome its fear of police officers is one challenge for law enforcement because police are very intimidating in Hispanic countries, Maya said. "I've been to Mexico, and I'm afraid of the police down there," he said. The differences between American police and those in Hispanic countries are only too real for the 26-year-old Rojas, who came to the United States four years ago. He said if people here think police are doing something bad, they need to go farther south and find out how police in Hispanic countries operate. Growing up in Medellin, Colombia, he said police lined him and schoolmates up against walls with their hands up and searched the kids' pockets. What were they looking for? "Whatever they want," Rojas said. As a former Colombian army soldier, he hadn't heard of consent until he came to the United States. "You want something, you get it," he said of Colombian law enforcement. But in the Rogue Valley, Rojas said he believes he makes a difference with his job. He works a north Medford beat but, like Maya, responds anywhere in town for calls that require a Spanish speaker. Community service officer Arturo Vega, also a native Spanish speaker, helps out wherever he can, including at South Medford High School where he encourages Hispanic kids to join the police department's Explorers program, even though a small percentage are likely to become involved in law enforcement, he said. Hispanics who are arrested are particularly critical of police who share their cultural background, officers said. "I hear, 'Hey, you're blood. How come you're taking me to jail?' " Rojas said, adding that he's also been called a racist by other Latinos he arrested. "I think they don't know what racism really is," he said. Maya and Swann have both encountered similar accusations. Maya said he's been called a racist three or four times by other Hispanics and that the racism issue is a miscommunication. Swann said students in her Spanish-language driver's course have told her they didn't pass the test because the examiner was racist. She said she thinks that maybe when a case of racism does finally come up, no one is going to believe it because the word is used too loosely in the Hispanic community. "When you're constantly using the race word, it gets old," she said. Maya and Rojas say that in performing their job, they make no race or ethnic distinctions. Whether it's for a traffic stop or assisting with a traffic accident, the two approach speakers of Spanish and English alike with the same attitude - doing the best job for the community. Medford's Hispanic population may be more concentrated on the west side of town, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Maya and Rojas should be assigned patrol beats in that area, said Lt. Tim George. The department is trying to expand everyone's skills, he said, and the Hispanic community is still well served. Officer Keith Mak, who is fluent in Spanish, is assigned a west Medford patrol beat. Scott Clauson, also fluent in the language, is a school resource officer at South High. "We are handcuffed without bilingual people," George said. Reach reporter Sarah Lemon at 776-4487, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.