Rob
a store and you're in. The armed robbery that made Darren
a Coquitlam Raider was quick and exciting. Now a young
father, he says it was a terrible mistake
Glenda Luymes The Province
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
A family man now, 'Darren' is none too proud of his
history with the Coquitlam Raiders and Surrey Thugs Incorporated.
Rob Rai, a diversity liaison officer with Surrey schools,
teaches kids a better way of 'joining' than being in a
youth gang.
He had been to the corner store before, but never with
a gun.
Like other 12-year-old kids in his Coquitlam neighbourhood,
Darren sometimes met friends there. He would spend his
change on orange slush, chocolate bars and sometimes a
magazine.
When he didn't have money, he would steal candy from
beneath the counter. It was easy.
But this was different.
Darren felt shaky -- and strangely excited.
"Rob a store and you're in," the leader of
the Coquitlam Raiders had told him minutes before, handing
him the gun.
The weapon was now tucked in the waistband of Darren's
jeans. As he approached the store, leaving the group of
teens waiting a few blocks away, his fear gave way to
adrenalin.
He was one robbery away from being "in" --
a real member of the Coquitlam Raiders. It was something
he'd wanted since his sister began dating the crew's leader
a few months back.
Ten minutes before the store closed for the night, with
no one inside but the owner and his wife, Darren burst
through the door. He pointed the gun at the owner. When
the man's wife began to scream, Darren blocked the entrance
and waved the loaded weapon in the air.
He demanded money and smokes.
Then he was back on the street, running, a bag filled
with $1,100 and 12 cartons of cigarettes over his shoulder,
the adrenalin pounding through his veins and a shout of
triumph in the back of his throat.
He was in.
- - -
In a series of interviews, Darren, now 27, tells his
story.
He asks to use an alias, which The Province has agreed
to do in order to protect his family.
"There's not one second that I look back on and
say that it was good," he says.
Later in the interview, he will seem to contradict this,
talking loudly about his skill as a street fighter.
But despite the bravado, the years since 1991 and his
initiation into the Coquitlam Raiders have given Darren
insight on the reasons he sought to join a gang. He says
his early criminal behaviour was like a "slippery
slope" that eventually crumbled altogether, giving
way to involvement, not only in the small-time Raiders,
but also later, in Surrey Thugs Incorporated, a more organized
street gang.
"It wasn't worth it," he says numerous times
during the interviews in a quiet Coquitlam restaurant.
When his memories become too emotional, Darren slides
his sunglasses down from the top of his head, covering
his blue eyes and the feelings they betray.
"I get emotional easy now," he says. "I
don't have a gun that I can just pick up."
He sucks orange pop through a straw, drinking two glasses
in quick succession. He stops occasionally for a smoke
break.
But he wants to tell his story.
"If this can help one kid, it's worth it,"
he says.
- - -
Darren grew up in Coquitlam living with his mother, a
single parent.
"There was one guy who came around when I was 10
or so. I still call him my dad," he says.
Darren openly admits he didn't have a good upbringing.
His mom had very little money. Much of the time, she
didn't know what was happening in her son's life.
Darren began drinking and smoking marijuana when he was
in elementary school.
A "bad kid," he spent plenty of time in counsellors'
offices, eventually dropping out of school in Grade 7.
No one seemed to notice -- at least, not that Darren can
recall.
When his older sister began dating the leader of the
Coquitlam Raiders, a small-time gang whose members were
involved in robberies, home invasions and auto theft,
he was interested.
The group offered "a sense of family, respect. They
had trust in me," he says.
After Darren passed his initiation by robbing the corner
store, the crew threw a party to celebrate. He was allowed
to wear their signature black-and-white bandanna, pairing
it with a Los Angeles Raiders football jersey and ball
cap.
"We made people fear us. When I walked down the
street, people would be afraid," he says.
About a year after his initiation, while high on acid,
Darren and some friends jumped a man and began kicking
him.
The man died, and Darren went to jail for manslaughter.
He doesn't like talking about it.
While serving what added up to three years at the Willingdon
Youth Detention Centre in Burnaby, Darren became friends
with a number of teens who, like him, claimed to be members
of one small-time gang or another.
"Obviously, we all had something in common,"
he says.
- - -
Darren may have had more in common with his fellow inmates
than he realized.
In interviews with more than 700 teens who have been
residents at the Willingdon Youth Detention Centre over
the past eight years, Dr. Ray Corrado, criminology professor
at Simon Fraser University, and Dr. Irwin Cohen, criminology
professor at the University College of the Fraser Valley,
have found minimal variations in the risk factors inmates
exhibit.
"Many of these youth fit a multi-problem profile,"
says Cohen. "There's a lot going on with them."
Some teens, he says, will join a gang to make money,
while others will join to fill their desire for family,
status or acceptance.
"They'll access an alternative pathway toward the
normal goals," he says.
Long-term studies cited by Canada's National Crime Prevention
Centre indicate the most important risk factors for gang
involvement include a need for recognition and belonging,
poor educational potential, alcohol and drug abuse, a
lack of parental supervision and an over-reliance on anti-social
peers.
Corrado says that once a youth has joined a gang, it
is gang membership itself that becomes one of the best
predictors of violent criminal behaviour.
"It's really a culture of violence," he says.
In fact, it is very rare for teens to commit violence
alone. The vast majority of teens interviewed at Willingdon
were part of a group when they acted, he says. And while
some youth make great personal improvements while incarcerated,
many find themselves under familiar negative influences
when they get out.
"It's disheartening to read their risk profiles,"
says Corrado. "Their lives are tragic -- that doesn't
condone what they've done, but it's sad when all you see
is, essentially, a lifetime of failure."
- - -
For Darren, it would take almost 10 years to break from
the gang lifestyle.
The price would be high.
While in Willingdon, he met a member of Surrey Thugs
Incorporated -- a gang he calls a "step up"
from the Raiders.
In 1999, about a year after leaving youth detention,
Darren moved to Surrey, where the gang gave him a place
to stay and a pocketful of drugs.
"They told me to go out and make money," he
says. "I had to prove myself."
Unlike the Coquitlam Raiders, which fell apart as its
members grew older, STI matured along with its members
and was already organized by the time Darren came along.
Youth probation officer Gerald van Stolk kept tabs on
many of STI's 20 members while the group was active, watching
it go from a neighbourhood "fight crew" to a
turf-oriented youth gang.
"STI hit the radar when they started selling marijuana.
Before that they were just a group of neighbourhood punks,"
van Stolk says.
Identifiable by their camouflage clothes, the gang established
a monopoly on the marijuana trade between the Gateway
and Surrey Central SkyTrain stations in the late 1990s.
While the gang had a number of dealers working for them,
to become a full member, a wannabe gangster had to be
sponsored in. He would then be allowed to get the STI
tattoo on the inside of his forearm -- its large gothic
letters left empty until the member advanced further and
was permitted to fill in the letters with a design.
Over time, STI became more and more organized, "to
the point where they would have separate shifts with special
shift supervisors and kids on bikes doing heat checks,"
says van Stolk.
But around 2004, things began to go wrong for the gang.
Van Stolk attributes STI's eventual end to crystal meth.
The gang moved from "weed to speed," and many
members began doing as much meth as they sold.
The dangerous drug made some members ultra-violent, causing
episodes of drug-induced psychosis and paranoia, says
van Stolk.
Eventually, there was a "rift" among upper
management.
Darren puts it this way: "They got rid of the weak
links."
By this time, Darren was ready to cut his ties with the
gang. He was feeling betrayed after being abandoned by
STI members in a fight with another crew -- a long scar
still runs along the crown of his head as a reminder.
Plus, his girlfriend had just had a baby boy.
Drug withdrawal took him weeks in a small dark room at
his mom's house. Lying on an air mattress, a vomit bucket
beside him, he remembers being so sick his bones felt
"broken and chipped."
When he finally beat the habit, it was too late to be
the kind of father his son needed. Social services took
the boy away from his girlfriend, and the couple split
soon after.
The boy is now three and Darren hasn't seen him in more
than a year.
- - -
As a youth diversity liaison officer for the Surrey school
district, Rob Rai tries to save kids from the experiences
that led Darren to realize gang membership is a dead end.
"We're always on the lookout for the risk factors,"
he says.
In an ideal world, every time a student showed signs
of slipping, a meeting would be arranged with everyone
involved -- parents, teachers, counsellors, even police.
"One person alone can't get rid of all the risk
factors. Co-operation is essential," says Rai.
But sometimes it's enough to get the troubled teen involved
in sports, or drama, or the physics club.
With that in mind, the Surrey school district has started
a special program for kids who are suspended from school
called the IR3 program -- the intervention, refocus, reflect
and reintegrate program. Rather than being sent home when
they've been suspended from school, students attend a
two-day workshop focused on self-esteem, conflict resolution
and character building.
"Every student's situation is different, but the
principles are the same," says Rai. "Kids need
to know someone cares. That someone is taking an interest.
That their decisions matter."
- - -
Four months ago, Darren became a father for the second
time.
He's been drug free for almost two years and has a steady
job.
"I'm giving it my best shot," he says. "People
are counting on me now, and I'm not going to let them
down."
At the end of an emotional interview, he's happy to see
his fiance and baby girl arrive at the restaurant. He
picks up his daughter with a gentleness that is both surprising
and touching, bringing her blue eyes to the level of his
own.
Darren smiles.
The little girl smiles.
"She likes to smile," he says.
gluymes@png.canwest.com
- - -
TAKE BACK YOUR LIFE
Don't forget to talk about gangs. Tell your child that:
- You disapprove of gangs.
- You see him or her as special and worth protecting.
- You don't want to see him or her hurt or arrested.
- You want to help with his or her problems.
- You and other parents are working together against
gangs.
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