Many people in Santa Paula, when asked what they do for a living, respond with the name of the fruit that they pick: "Naranja." "Fresa." Orange. Strawberry.
The fields have long defined Santa Paula, literally and culturally. In tidy rows, they stretch 10 miles to the east and west along the floor of the valley in Ventura County. The workers tie little pieces of foil on some crops to scare off the birds. On sunny days, there are thousands of reflections; it looks like they're harvesting jewels.
In the middle is a sweet, tired town of roughly 35,000 people, three-quarters of them Latino and more than half considered low-income under county standards.
For several years, there has been a tide of sentiment that Santa Paula has missed out, that it has become a dumping ground of sagging roofs and 99-cent stores while neighbors like Moorpark and Camarillo have prospered. And some critics -- many of them members of the white minority -- have decided that the poor are the problem.
This summer, about 400 people signed a petition asking the City Council to approve a moratorium on "low-end" housing until it represents less than 15% of the housing stock in Santa Paula. Moratorium supporters say it would take 50 years to achieve that goal -- which would mean a 50-year ban on the construction of low-income housing.
"What we want is a balance," said Larry Sagely, one of the leading voices in town calling for a moratorium. "Let the free market run."
Of particular concern, said community activist Richard Main, 70, is government-subsidized housing. Those apartment complexes, several of which have been built in recent years, are typically not subject to property taxes.
"They're a dead drag on the economy," Main said. "And if your revenues aren't covering your costs, you've got a problem."
Main and the other moratorium supporters have not been shy about introducing race and ethnicity into the debate; they have registered their offense, for instance, when some of those who have asked for additional affordable housing have needed an interpreter to speak in front of the City Council. And all sides agree that a moratorium would affect Latinos and, in particular, farmworkers and their families, more than anyone else. But those who support a moratorium say they are not racists.
"All of us," Main said, "came here from someplace else."
