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909 stereotype is ludicrous

by Taylor Kingsbury
Staff Writer

If you were to give someone a list of the elements in your life that define you as a person, "phone number" probably wouldn't be on it. However, in superficial Southern California, area codes are now an important facet of your identity, thanks to the development and publicizing of the 909 stigma.

In case you haven't heard, 909 is the laughing stock of our region. Apparently, we are dirty, smelly buffoons who make crystal meth in our garage, beat our girlfriends and drink Coors. We chain smoke menthol cigarettes and wear hideously out of fashion clothing. KROQ morning show hosts Kevin and Bean call the Inland Empire the "Valley of the Dirt People."

This is us, friends; in a nutshell, the first thing people think of when we give them our phone numbers.

ULV senior Dave Engle subscribes to the social stigma, and describes 909-ers as "wannabes." Engle lives in Fountain Valley, nestled in the sheltering confine of 714. He lent his insight into how 714-ers react when 909-erss venture into this habitat.

"If you're from the 714 and hang out by the beach, 90 percent of the time you can spot them," reports Engle. "They dress weird, they drive certain cars, they wear visors. They try too hard to be cool."

Engle describes typical 909 gear, which he wore as a Halloween costume one year, as "big, baggy clothes," "white shoes," "chain wallet," and an "upside-down visor." He compares the complete package to Jamie Kennedy's character in the recent film "Malibu's Most Wanted." Ironically, the city of Malibu does not share the 909 area code.

Engle also claims that the 909 never fully leaves our citizens. He claims when a 909 moves to a new city and adopts a new area code identity, "they convert over, but they carry some of their roots." However, he adds that when an outsider moves into the 909, they are not at risk of adopting these characteristics.

"I don't think it would change me," Engle speculates. Apparently, the 909 is powerful enough to mold us into Neanderthal crackheads, but not strong enough to shatter the impeccable character shaped by all other area codes.

As a 909-er, I was compelled to examine myself to see if the 714 summation of me was accurate.

"Big, baggy clothes?" You got me there. "White shoes?" Nope, I have black ones and red ones. "Chain wallet?" Why would I advertise that fact that I'm carrying money? "Upside-down visor?" Please.

Further inspection revealed that I'm only dirty and smelly in the morning, I smoke Camel Lights, I don't know what fashion is, I drink Heineken, and, while I do manufacture crystal meth in my garage, I do not beat my girlfriend.

"Of course, there are exceptions," admits the senior. He concedes that La Verne is a "melting pot," thus spared much of the riff-raff that normally dwells in our area. He puts the stereotype aside as a student and maintains friendships with many 909-ers. Let us hope that the masses from other area codes can be as open-minded as Engle.

Maybe there's not as much to this as people are making. People who hold this stereotype seem to overlook that fact that the 909 area code extends into 43 cities, compared to, say, 714, which is only shared by 17.

The reach of the 909 includes areas as disparate as Pomona, Devore and Diamond Bar, and each of these cities is occupied by very different ethnic demographics.

Interestingly enough, La Verne and much of the surrounding area rested in the 714 area code until 1992, when the 909 was adopted. Apparently, the 714 grew so tired of our antics that they banished us from their kingdom. Unfortunately, most of us were too young to fully appreciate just how cool we were in that shining era, before we were delegated to the depths of 909. This seems to contradict Engle's theory of outsiders maintaining their identities when they convert to 909.

I admit, there probably are 909-ers who fit the stereotype to the letter. However, the sort of people we are alleged to be dwell throughout the United States. I don't hear any anti-909s saying a word about Texas. Why? Because they tell us not to mess with them?

Sure, Chino smells like rancid feces, Fontana is a barren wasteland where no life dwells, and Devore is an amphitheater surrounded by dirt and trailer homes. But, does the entire 909 area fit these descriptions? If we are to continue perpetrating this stereotype, can't we simply change it to the "Riverside stigma"?

Or better yet, let's not judge anyone by where they live. While our environment helps shape us as human beings, there is no city on earth that can change who a person is.

We 909-ers are a noble and peaceful species. If we weren't, we would be making up stigmas about everywhere else. For instance, we could describe 714-ers as bleached-blonde, self-obsessed sun-worshippers who have to go to the beach every day to ensure that their skin stays a color it's not supposed to be. But we don't.

Engle maintains that when he and his friends "point and laugh" at 909-ers, it is all in good fun, as is this column. There doesn't seem to be any maliciousness on his part, and he did return my call even though he had to dial 909 to do so.

So, I urge all 909-ers to show Engle that we are a lot cooler than we get credit for. He should be easy to spot; he's the guy wearing 714 clothes.

Taylor Kingsbury, a junior journalism major, is a staff writer of the Campus Times. He can be reached by e-mail at happyendingrocks@hotmail.com.