Tattoos, police records and other issues pose for midable barriers to going straight.

"BANGIN" in a Watts-based Grips gang brought Mike not only money, but respect - something hard to command for a high-school dropout. But along the way, the second-generation gangster grew tired of the life. Constant run-ins with the cops - and all those months behind bars for drug sales, credit card and check fraud, burglary and assault - took their toll

"All my original 'homies' are either dead or in jail or on drugs," says Mike, 36, who asked that his last name be withheld due to fear of reprisals from old rivals. "I'm tired, and I'm too old for this."

But attempting to turn his life around has forced him to confront an age-old problem for gang members in Los Angeles or anywhere else. It's tough to go legitimate and get a decent job.

Most former gang members have unsightly tattoos on their faces or arms that might frighten would-be employers. Many have prison records and almost all lack basic educational and job skills - the kind of problems that caused them to gravitate to gangs in the first place.

"For those people living a fairly hardcore gang lifestyle, the majority find it difficult to make the transition," says Monique Davis, who oversees education and employment training programs for the Los Angeles City Housing Authority. "The culture is very macho-oriented. It's difficult for some people to admit they have to start over. It's exposing vulnerabilities they've spent so many years trying to cover up."

Los Angeles is home to an estimated 61,971 members in 407 gangs, such as the Culver City Boys, 18th Street, Mara Salvatrucha, the Grips and Project Boys, according to the Los Angeles Police Department.

While no figures directly correlate gang membership with poverty, the highest gang concentrations are found in the poorest neighborhoods, such as South Central, East L.A., the Rampart and North Hollywood areas.

Of those gang members lucky enough to survive, many decide to go straight. The decision often has to do with getting older, tiring of jail or becoming a parent.

"I thought about my family a lot, and I just got tired of being in jail," says Arthur Stanford, a former gang member who works as a carpenter's apprentice through a Housing Authority job training program. "I did so much wrong, I just thought it was time to do some right. So I started going to school, and leaving the crowd (of gang-bangers) alone."

At 39, Stanford has managed to stay out of jail since 1986, and he has learned skills he hopes will lead to full-time employment once he leaves the program. But ex-gang members face innumerable, barriers.

One of the first hurdles is among the most basic: getting rid of gang tattoos, says Sister June Wilkerson, a Dominican nun who oversees a tattoo-removal program at Providence Holy Cross Medical Center in Mission Hills.

"The most offensive are the ones on the hands, the neck and the face," she says. "A lot of employers see those and say, 'Don't call us, we'll call you.' It's a funny thing, but it's a very significant barrier to employment."

Having gang insignia removed can cost several thousand dollars, a prohibitively expensive procedure for most low-income people, Wilkerson said.

Lorenzo, a former Valley gang member, was in a woodworking shop when he decided to take his shirt off one hot afternoon. "I was working hard and doing good. I didn't think they'd care. But as soon as my boss saw my tattoos, they did a background check and the next day I was fired," he says.

Six months and several painful laser treatments later, through the hospital's free program, the tattoo on Lorenzo's neck is gone, and the ones on both arms and his chest have nearly faded away.

Lorenzo has since landed a new job with a sign company, and he is a semester or two away from graduating from Los Angeles Valley College with a degree in electronics.

Lorenzo is one of the success stories, but many gang members, especially those with families to support, get frustrated at the low wages and tedious job-training programs that come with trying to turn their lives around. As a result, many resort to crime as a way of making quick money.

In Mike's case, the former Grip gang member said it was frustration at not being able to provide for his 10 children that led him to commit burglary two years ago, landing him back in prison.

"Christmastime was coming around. Bills and stuff were getting hectic," he recalls. "Having to deal with kids always needing, always wanting, I just wanted to be the type of father that no matter what it took, was there to take care of his kids."

But the notion, "once a gang member, always a gang member," is untrue, experts say.

A national survey found that the average term of gang membership is less than a year.

Ricardo is a prime example. After being heavily involved in a Pacoima gang from the time he was 16, he fell away from his old friends after entering a drug program.

Now 28, Ricardo helps ran the job search center at a Van Nuys career-training office, where he shares his experiences with other gang bangers looking to turn their lives around.

"When I was first looking for a job, I didn't get the whole idea that you have to dress in a certain way," he said. "I'd basically go to the interview in my best gang attire, but I learned that's not going to get it done."