[img]1|left|Ari Noonan||no_popup[/img]Fourth and last in a series
Re “A Swig of Rock ‘n Roll – Rattle Those Pots ‘n Pans”
The mood wafting across the large room last Friday morning at the Regency West in Leimert Partk changed sharply when emcee Dr. Anthony Samad withdrew and Jackie Lacey reached the podium.
[img]1563|left|Jackie Lacey||no_popup[/img]From volubly paternal to tenderly, but seriously, maternal.
As the chief senior deputy in the County District Attorney’s office, seeking the top job next spring, soft-spoken Ms. Lacey’s evident assignment:
To report on prison realignment, which actually morphed into an explanation of recidivism, how her office is helping released prisoners transition back into standard civilian life.
Sparks were breaking out at the Urban Issues Breakfast Forum. The crowd sensed Ms. Lacey – fetching with her bangs hairstyle – was going to extend Dr. Samad’s theme about how minorities are disproportionately prosecuted and punished, a hot subject of the season.
But what captured and held my attention – one of her most appealing assets as an office-seeker – was the way she related her family history. For now, I want to put aside her brief 22 minutes of person-to-person speechmaking and go to the fibre of Jackie Lacey, through the prism of her own eyes, because I believe she is special.
Speaking in clean, direct, modest-length sentences, Ms. Lacey was not there to rouse the rabble but to relate in an uncomplicated, unemotional, across-the-back-fence style. It was a low-key private conversation about how her office is seeking to tame just-released single offenders before they explode into multi-timers.
Ready to Erupt?
The attitude of the room seemed poised to hear about rampant bias so they could leave their chairs and aim their fists at the ceiling.
Nah. Not her way, or maybe even her belief.
Ms. Lacey began innocently by describing how she was one of them.
“The last time I was here, I was carded for alcohol,” said the 55-year-old attorney, who shortly explained why. “I am from the area. I went to Dorsey High School. I graduated in 1975. I am a Dorsey Don.
“I grew up on Wellington Road and Coliseum Street, if you know where that is,” and a burst of applause broke out. “I am right here in the neighborhood.”
Not the ‘hood. That sprang from a different generation.
“I married my high school sweetheart, who was a Crenshaw Cougar.
“We have been blessed. We have two children, ages 30 – my son will turn 31 on Nov. 6, which is Election Day – and my daughter is 28.
“I want to introduce myself. I am your chief deputy (district attorney), and I have been in the D.A.’s office for 27 years.
“I went to U.C. Irvine, and I graduated law school at USC,” Ms. Lacey said and Trojans at circular breakfast tables at Regency West emitted an appropriate whoop.
Scan Your Memory
Ttell me the last time you heard a significant public figure utter the following words. No anger. No revenge. No nonsense. She presented as a normal person.
“I always give praise to my parents. I was fortunate enough to have two great parents who instilled in me honesty and hard work.
“My folks migrated here from the South, like a lot of people, from Texas and Georgia. They came here to get away from the all the oppression that was going on in the ‘50s.
“Their whole thing was, they wanted to make sure that we got an education.
“So they worked hard, sacrificed. My father started out washing dishes. My mother started out in a sewing factory doing piece work, and later got a job with the L.A. Unified School District as a cook.
“They put together the money they had and made sure I had a good education.
“I thank them because I figure, doing what I do, working for the largest prosecutors’ office in the nation, as the chief deputy, it is only due to their training, their raising of me, that I am here.
“I thank them,” and the audience properly was moved to applaud a family portrait that not even Renoir could improve.
