Organizing for Action in Saginaw, Michigan

At dinner time in early fall's sunshine, two members of a budding "urban village" in Saginaw, Michigan, are trying to persuade neighbors to join them.

Marie Raymond and Alberta Brown want residents to represent themselves in a self-help community group. Their concerns range from housing conditions to school quality to street crime.

They figure most neighbors will pay little attention to signs, letters or public service announcements. Therefore they are taking a direct approach, door to door, to promote the Southwest Village Neighborhood Association.

They make one frustrating house call after another.

Knock, knock:

-- An older woman says she is concerned but too busy to take part in the group.

-- A child who seems too young to stay home alone says his mother isn't home.

-- A middle-aged fellow with 1960s long hair and a biker T-shirt seems to feel quite good, thank you, but he isn't interested in a neighborhood meeting.

-- A single mother promises she will "think about" attending, but her blank expression says otherwise.

Finally, after nearly an hour, Leverich and Bergren find the response they are seeking.

Anthony Holden, a 30-year-old father with custody of his children, says he has many concerns: Crime. Drugs. Youth activities. Abandoned properties. Street lights. A dangerous intersection.

"We need a group like this, straight up," says Hicks, who pledges to take part in the upcoming meeting.

"OK," Raymond says. "Let's sign him up." The purpose is to have his number for a reminder call on the meeting day.

So goes the grind of grass-roots organizing, mining one prospect at a time. This type of activity happens below news media radar not only in Saginaw, but in communities across the nation, large and medium and small.

Questions are attached. Is it worth it to focus on smaller neighborhood concerns as building blocks, or has the federal government become so powerful that everything is tied to Washington? Bottom line, can neighborhood organizing make a difference?

Barack Obama, U.S. senator and presidential candidate, was a neighborhood community organizer for three years on Chicago's South Side as a young adult. He didn't make speeches at that point in his career; instead he organized neighbors to make speeches on their own behalf. He saw virtue in organizing but ultimately felt frustrated, at which point he chose to enter elective politics as a source of true power.

Back to Saginaw. In their door-to-door work, Raymond and Brown don't read from a prepared script. They try to adapt their sales pitches to each resident.

"My mind is racing at each house, trying to figure out how hard I should push it," Raymond says.

She tells a concerned resident that police can't do it all.

"There are never enough police, and there never will be," she says. "We have to take it back ourselves."

She explains to another that crime isn't the only issue.

"We have home repair classes, a tool lending program," Brown notes. "I'm on a committee for youth responsibility. We have picnics, rummage sales. We try to get into a little bit of everything."

A week later, when the time comes to meet, a steady rain has replaced the sunshine.

Anthony Holden is a no-show, but five newcomers are among a group of 20 at a small neighborhood church.

One of them is Alicia Munoz, who came into the group when member Nancy Watson spoke to her during the door-to-door drive.

Munoz is rearing two children with her husband, Hector Munoz, and she says conditions at their apartment complex are unsafe.

Outsiders park at night, drink beer in a secluded spot and urinate outdoors, she tells the group. The landlord has not honored requests to trim trees and improve lighting, she adds, and police are slow to respond.

Other members suggest action steps: Take down license plate numbers. Meet with police. Send a letter to the landlord.

Munoz says she is discouraged that her neighbors are not present.

"It seems like I'm the only one concerned from my apartment complex," she says, "because I'm the only one here."

After the meeting, Watson takes Munoz aside and offers to help her recruit others.

"She knows that I'm going to be there with her," Watson tells an onlooker. "I didn't just ask her to come to a meeting. When she followed through, I was here."

Other members also volunteer to go door to door. They discuss an array of topics during their two-hour session, including a discount food operation, a study of housing stock and dangerous traffic intersections.

"Some of our regular members aren't here," says Chairman Robert Andrews afterward, "but we brought in some new ones. It seems to change month by month."

Then he joins other group members to map plans for next month, and the organizing cycle continues. Will it make a difference?