America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Chapter 106 Jerry Salamander

Sean put down his marker and rubbed his slightly sore wrist.

"Everyone," he glanced at the time on his phone, "it's already one in the morning. We'll refine these specific implementation plans tomorrow; I need you all to stay alert."

Vincent nodded and closed his laptop. Kelly took off his reading glasses, still looking quite energetic.

This old man's energy sometimes puts even young people to shame.

"So, what's the specific schedule for tomorrow?" Rachel asked. "Hmm—at 10 a.m., we'll have a symposium. I'll finalize the address tomorrow morning," Sean read aloud. "At 2 p.m., we'll go back to headquarters for a meeting with the digital team to discuss the next phase of our social media strategy."

Matthew and Liam were still processing the strategies they had just heard, their faces showing a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. Liam even secretly yawned.

"I suggest you finalize it now, Sean." Rachel rested her chin on her hand, looking a little sleepy. "It's best not to start with Crane's stronghold—"

"I see—" Sean pondered.

"Rachel," Sean looked at Rachel, "I remember you said that community organizers in the Watts District contacted us, hoping to discuss the intersection of police reform and job training?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, especially Maria Reyes, the head of the Watts Community Action Network. She wanted to meet with you alone for a while, but you were talking to the bigwigs in Silicon Valley about how to speculate on Bitcoin at that time, so she didn't respond."

"Okay, I've changed my mind," Sean said with a smile. "Let's have a forum there, and after the forum, if time permits, I'd like to meet with her directly. No need for formal arrangements, just find a room in the community center and chat for twenty minutes."

Vincent raised an eyebrow: "So suddenly? Are you sure? I heard that area isn't very safe, and—"

"Of course I know," Sean said without hesitation. "I'll arrange bodyguards. Tomorrow, besides Rachel, there will be people following us."

Kelly looked at Sean thoughtfully: "You want to delve into the underprivileged communities? The Penn Watts is one of the most neglected areas in Los Angeles, with consistently low voter turnout. Neither party is willing to invest resources there. But there are quite a few people who vote for Crane there."

"It's precisely because it's overlooked that it's worth going," Sean said. "If I only go to those swing districts, how am I any different from other politicians?"

Liam couldn't help but interject, "But it's really there—I mean, I've heard some things about it."

"That's why we need to see it for ourselves." Sean patted him on the shoulder. "Alright, everyone go back and rest."

Los Angeles was shrouded in a thin mist in the early morning.

Sean sat in the back seat, watching the street scene change outside the window. They drove from the neat suburbs of Pasadena toward the city, then turned south.

The architectural styles range from meticulously maintained detached houses to dense apartment buildings and older row houses.

Rachel sat next to him, a tablet on her lap, finalizing the details of the seminar arrangements.

"The organizer for this event is the Watts District Youth Empowerment Center, a non-profit organization," she read. "We expect 30 to 40 people to attend, mainly local residents, community workers, and a few small business owners. The format will be a roundtable discussion; you'll give a 10-minute opening statement, followed by a Q&A session."

"What's the theme?"

"They say it's the voice of the community," but based on past event records, the conversation usually veers into specific issues like employment, safety, and education. Rachel glanced at him. "You'd better be prepared; the people there might not be very polite. They've seen too many politicians come and make a show, promise a bunch of things, and then disappear without a trace."

Sean nodded.

He understands that feeling; when your community has been neglected for decades, you naturally become wary of any outsiders.

Then the car drove through an intersection, and the street scene suddenly changed—it was different.

There was more graffiti on the walls; some were artistic creations, others were just hastily drawn labels. Several cars parked on the roadside looked like they had been abandoned for a long time. Some shop signs were faded, and some windows were boarded up.

But at the same time, Sean also saw some positive signs: vegetables growing in the community garden, murals on the walls depicting historical figures of African Americans, and children playing in a small park.

This is the complexity of American cities: decay and resilience coexist, despair and hope intertwine.

"We've arrived," the driver said.

The car stopped in front of a two-story building with a bright yellow exterior and the words "Wats Youth Empowerment Center" written on it in Spanish and English. A dozen or so people had already gathered at the entrance, some holding up their phones, seemingly waiting for something.

Sean took a deep breath and straightened his shirt cuffs. Today he deliberately didn't wear a suit jacket, only simple khaki pants and an Oxford shirt, wanting to appear more casual.

The car door opened, and he got out.

The symposium was held in the center's multi-functional hall.

The room was larger than Sean had imagined, capable of holding fifty or sixty people. At that moment, about forty people were seated, ranging in age from teenagers to young adults.

They range from teenagers to elderly people with gray hair.

This group is predominantly African American and Latino, which is typical of the Watts neighborhood. Historically, this community was predominantly African American, but the Latino population has been steadily increasing in recent years.

Sean was led to a round table at the front of the room. Next to him sat the center's director, a bespectacled African American woman in her forties named Denise Carter. Across from them sat Rachel and one of their bodyguards.

Denise gave a brief introduction, mentioning Sean's acting background and his ongoing "unconventional campaign," but deliberately refrained from expressing any personal stance.

Then it was Sean's turn.

He stood up and, instead of standing behind the podium, walked to the round table, closer to the audience.

"Thank you, Denise, and thank you all for taking the time to come today," he said. "Before I begin, I'd like to be frank about a few things. First, I'm a political newcomer and have never held any public office. Second, I come from a very different world. Third, I'm here today not to give you a speech, but to listen to you."

Some people in the audience whispered among themselves, their expressions varying—some curious, some skeptical, and some completely indifferent.

“I know the history of Watts,” Sean said, seemingly having done his homework. “The 1965 Los Angeles riots took place here, and we’ve seen the struggles and resilience here over the years. I know this community has been institutionally neglected in many ways.”

"So, I don't want to talk about change or hope today. I want to understand the specific issues: What do you face every day? What do you think is the most pressing problem to be solved? And what do you think an outsider like me can truly accomplish?"

"I'll leave most of the time for you to ask questions, comment, and criticize. Any topic is welcome. I will try my best to answer honestly, and if I don't know the answer, I will say so directly."

The room was silent for a few seconds.

Then a middle-aged man in overalls in the back row raised his hand. The number above his head was [25].

Denise handed over the wireless microphone.

“Mr. Sean,” the man said, his voice rough and hoarse, “my name is James, and I’ve lived here for thirty-five years. My question is: do you know why the roads here are so bad, the schools so terrible, and the police are either nowhere to be seen or they just come and use excessive force?”

Sean nodded. "Please continue."

"Because nobody cares about us," James bluntly stated. "The Democrats take our votes for granted, which is why we've slowly shifted towards the Elephants. The ridiculous thing is, they never put any effort into this. Before each election, some people come, take a few pictures, say a few nice things, and then disappear. We're in a safe Democratic district, so neither party has any incentive to compete here. The districts are drawn in bizarre ways just to ensure that certain people are always elected."

The phenomenon James described actually has a specific term in American politics: the jellyfish.

This term refers to the practice of unfairly drawing electoral boundaries to gain an electoral advantage for a particular political party.

Sean recalls that this practice dates back to 1812, when Massachusetts Governor Elbridge Gerry signed a bill that divided a district into strange, salamander-like shapes to help his party.

A newspaper editor created this political term by combining "Gerry" and "salamander".

Over the past two centuries, the study of the jellyfish has evolved into a sophisticated art form.

Politicians use voter data and geographic information systems to design electoral boundaries like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, either packing voters who support their opponents into a few districts or spreading them out across multiple districts, thereby diluting their voting influence.

The results of it?

As a result, many constituencies became "safe seats" for certain parties when they were drawn up, and candidates did not need to compete with centrist voters, but only needed to cater to the party's base, leading to increased political polarization.

“I completely understand, sir,” Sean responded. “And you’ve hit a crucial point: when elections lack real competition, the elected officials don’t have enough accountability pressure. Regarding the gerrymandering issue, I think we need to push for reform and establish an independent gerrymandering commission, instead of letting politicians draw the maps themselves. But until then, what we can do is increase voter turnout so that politicians see that the number of people here can indeed influence the election.”

James scoffed. "That sounds nice. But how can you guarantee you won't be another person who just comes to take pictures and leaves?"

"I can't guarantee that," Sean said frankly. "Words are cheap. I can only prove it with my actions. I will come back regularly to follow up on the progress. But that requires your continued supervision and pressure, and you need to tell me what works and what doesn't."

These words seemed to have made some people start to think seriously, and the number above James's head changed to [30].

Then someone else raised their hand.

This time it was a young woman, in her early twenties, holding a sleeping baby in her arms.

"Mr. Sean, my name is Tamika. I work at a community kindergarten, earning $15 an hour, and I don't have health insurance. My husband works the night shift at a warehouse, and we're raising three children. After paying rent and utilities each month, we have to carefully budget even for groceries. How can your policy help people like me?"

Sean felt a tightness in his chest. Tamika was describing the typical plight of poor American workers.

They have jobs, but their income is insufficient to cover basic living costs, placing them in a gray area above the poverty line but below the economic security line.

“First, I believe the minimum wage should be linked to the local cost of living, not a uniform national standard,” Sean said. “In a high-cost place like Los Angeles, $15 an hour might not be enough. Second, we need to reform the healthcare system to make insurance affordable for small businesses and low-income workers. Third, my proposed plan includes vocational training and support, which would give people like you the opportunity to be trained and enter higher-paying fields without worrying about childcare.”

This is indeed a policy approach that his team has come up with that is neither too left nor too right. What Sean values ​​is not its practical value, but rather that this policy provides the right answer to the question of "how to make promises."

He then paused for a moment: "But these policies take time. In the short term, what I can do is use my platform to tell stories like yours, so that more people can see the true nature of the problem. Sometimes, that in itself is a powerful force."

The Q&A continues.

The questions covered housing crisis, inadequate public transportation, community violence, and the quality of school education—Sean tried his best to answer, sometimes citing data, sometimes admitting that some questions were beyond his area of ​​expertise, but promising to investigate them in depth.

Midway through the discussion, a man in a suit who didn't look like a local stood up. Before Denise could hand him the microphone, he spoke loudly: "Sean Penn, you say you care about the community, but Elon Musk is all in with it. Musk's companies treat workers like machines, he opposes unions, and his wealth is built on the exploitation of labor. How do you explain this hypocrisy?"

That's a very pointed question.

This person may be a member of a labor group or a progressive organization.

The other party's favorability towards him is only [5].

The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Sean.

Rachel frowned slightly, and Mark adjusted his posture slightly as well.

Sean paused for two seconds, then asked, "What's your name?"

Does it matter?

“It’s important because I want to know if you’re asking on your own behalf or on behalf of an organization,” Sean said calmly. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to say. Cough cough, I did invite Musk to the policy briefing in San Francisco because he represents a significant force in the tech industry, and we need to engage in dialogue with all stakeholders, including those we don’t necessarily agree with.”

"A dialogue?" the man in the suit sneered. "This is you compromising with capital!"

"How can we move forward with change if we refuse to talk to anyone with whom we disagree?" Sean countered. "Musk has his position, and I have mine. If you've seen the recording of the press conference, you'll know that I made it clear that technological progress cannot come at the expense of others. We disagreed on the spot."

"But I also believe that it is unrealistic to completely deny the value of the technology industry. The problem lies in how to guide it and how to ensure that its benefits are distributed more fairly."

He looked at the other audience members and said, “I am not seeking everyone’s approval. I know that some of my positions will offend the left and some will offend the right. But I insist on one point: we must go beyond the binary thinking of simply supporting or opposing.”

Reality is complex, and solutions need to be complex as well.

The man in the suit was about to say something when Denise intervened, saying, "Thank you for your question, but we have limited time. Let's give others a chance to speak as well."

However, an unexpected incident occurred near the end of the symposium.