At Pomona’s Ganesha Park, a rusting swing hangs twisted, its chain creaking in the afternoon breeze. The grass beneath is brittle and patchy, crumbling into dust under sneakers. Scattered beer bottles glitter like jagged traps in the sun. Parents keep a nervous eye on the ground, scanning for glass before their kids take a seat on the bench that leans to one side. What should be a refuge of laughter and safety feels instead like a landscape of caution.

“I used to bring my kids here after school every day,” Maria Rodriguez, a mother of two, said, brushing glass off the slide before letting her youngest climb up. “Now, I can’t let them go on the play structure alone. It’s more stressful than it’s relaxing. It feels like we are an afterthought.”

Across Pomona, residents say the wear and tear falls hardest on lower-income neighborhoods. In these areas, bathrooms are often locked or vandalized, lights do not work, and play structures sit on pitted fields. The pattern tracks with broader data: a 2021 analysis by The Trust for Public Land found that parks in low-income neighborhoods are, on average, half the size of those in wealthier areas and serve five times more people per acre. Smaller, more crowded parks with aging equipment make spaces feel unwelcoming and, at times, unsafe.

“When you don’t invest in safe spaces for kids, you’re really telling them their community isn’t worth protecting,” said Andrew Quinones, President and CEO of SoCal Service Corps, a local nonprofit that organizes youth service and neighborhood improvement projects. For Quinones, the condition of a neighborhood park is not a cosmetic issue; it is a health issue.

Javier Garcia, father of three, described bringing his boys to play soccer on fields dotted with gopher holes and uneven patches. “It’s a twisted ankle waiting to happen,” he said. “It says that our kids’ safety isn’t a priority.”

Public-health research links limited access to safe play spaces with more screen time, less physical activity, and fewer social connections—factors tied to higher rates of obesity, anxiety, and isolation. Pediatricians at Pomona Valley Hospital say they see those patterns in clinic visits.

For Quinones, the disparities are easy to spot: “You walk into a park in Phillips Ranch and you’ll see working lights, clean bathrooms, newer playground equipment. Then you drive five minutes south and you find graffiti-covered bathrooms, broken swings, and glass-filled fields. It’s not a coincidence; it’s about which neighborhoods get prioritized.”

But the picture is complicated. City officials and educators acknowledge the problems but point to constraints in their ability to address it. Darren Knowles, Superintendent of the Pomona Unified School District, said in an interview that the district recognizes the impact of unsafe parks on student health and stress levels. “The well-being of our students doesn’t stop at the school bell,” Knowles said. “Access to safe recreational spaces is a component of a healthy childhood.”

Still, he emphasized that public parks fall outside the district’s jurisdiction. “Our own budgets are incredibly tight and are focused on the classroom. We simply do not have the funds to invest in off-campus infrastructure, as much as we’d like to.”

City crews, he noted, often contend with vandalism. “A crew can go in and make repairs, and a week later, the equipment is broken again or the walls are covered in graffiti. It’s a frustrating cycle that drains an already limited maintenance budget. It becomes a question of where to allocate resources most effectively.”

Some longtime residents echo that frustration. Frank Miller, who has lived in Pomona for 40 years, believes responsibility cannot rest solely on the city. “Look, the city could definitely do more,” he said. “But people need to take some pride in their own neighborhood. I see people leaving trash ten feet from a garbage can. Groups hang out late at night, breaking things. It’s not all on the city. If the community doesn’t respect the space, why would anyone want to invest in it?”

Even so, advocates argue that investment in parks is one of the most cost-effective health strategies available. Community groups and youth-led initiatives have organized cleanups, painted murals, and planted gardens — small acts that build pride.

Quinones has watched teenagers turn a forgotten corner into a muraled gathering space. “Community groups can be the spark,” he said. “Youth leadership can transform a broken park into a source of pride, but they can’t do it alone. We need policy and funding to match the passion on the ground.”

The broken swing at Ganesha Park encourages a deeper question: whose children deserve safe places to play, and whose communities are left behind?

According to a 2021 study by The Trust for Public Land, parks in low-income neighborhoods are, on average, half the size of those in wealthier areas, serving five times more people per acre.

This article was written for the Yale Daily News’ 2025 Summer Journalism Program for high school students.