Most, if not all of you know that my spouse and I mentor a group of neighborhood teens each year. The group was formed eight years ago as a response to a crisis in our neighborhood. The crisis: teens who had nothing constructive to do with their time getting into trouble. Sociologist have a term for these kids: "at-risk youth". That trouble eventually led to the shooting death of a young man named Christian. I moved to Saint Louis too late to get to know Christian well ,before his untimely death. However, from what I have learned, he was a star student and athlete. He was in line to receive a full scholarship to a prestigious private high school. Over Christmas break he was hanging out with the wrong people at the wrong time. The story goes that it was an accidental shooting. Someone, not the shooter, took the fall for the "accident" and spent a few years in jail.
Meanwhile, a group of concerned neighbors gathered at my office in the 'hood to talk about what we could do about the lack of jobs, recreation, mentoring offered our "kids". One of my board members came up with the notion that since we managed rental property which was always in need of repair, and we were occasionally constructing new residential properties, and there were many of our neighbors in need of a helping hand for their own property maintenance, that we should employ the teens to do that work. I naively thought that board member, who was very skilled in the areas of construction and carpentry in particular, would offer to form and lead this rag tag bunch of kids as they tackled these projects. I found, however, that the responsibility would be mine and I was fortunately able to recruit my spouse to help.
Each Spring our city hosts a city-wide clean-up effort known as Operation Brightside Blitz. We decided to recruit teens in our neighborhood to join us in cleaning alleys, vacant lots and neighbors yards and basements as our first project. I really did not expect much turn-out on that chilly spring day. However, I was surprised that when I went out to the back yard to greet my new workers, that 20 kids showed up. Tough ones and mild ones, troubled ones and stable ones. Brothers and sisters, cousins and unrelated. They had all come out to see what our little upstart project would offer them. In other words, they wanted to know if we were 'for real".
We grabbed our tools and went out to make a difference in the neighborhood environment, but in my heart I was embarking on an experiment with much bolder: to make a difference in young lives--before they would be lured away by drug trafficking, gang banging and other dangerous pursuits. Early on, we decided to pay these kids a stipend for their participation. We set up standards of work and behavior on the job. Each week attendance and performance were evaluated. We held meetings to determine the name of our group, sought input from the kids on how they thought they were doing and how they thought we (me and Teka) were doing.
Together, as a team, we tackled clean-ups, landscaping, demolition, site prep, rough construction, and really rough construction. The most daunting task was not the tasks we undertook in construction or demolition, but rather, the demolition of barriers of mistrust and the reconstruction of trust between us. We learned the concept of co-responsibility--that we all take credit for our successes and failures. We learned to treat each other with respect. We learned to take pride in hard work and a job well done. We shared struggles and meals, and at time, our home with these kids.
The defining moment for me that we had become a team and that the program meant something came on one of the hottest days of the year. One Summer we had been hired to perform demolition of a property slated for rehab. We stripped out the lath and plaster, we tore out plumbing and electrical we deconstructed walls and windows in preparation for the rehabbers to take over. Our last piece of the project was to tear off the roof. The roofing material had been built up layers of tar paper and tar and gravel for over 100 years. Each chunk of roofing was heavier and hotter than the last. One final section of the roof remained. The temperature on the roof was over 100 degrees. It took all of us working together to pry that section loose, lift it and throw it over the edge. When it crashed to the ground we all rejoiced together on that roof. High fives all around! We jumped up and down. We laughed. We groaned. Looking at each other, Teka and I realized we shared the same complexion with our kids--dirt and grime and tar dust covered all of us. We learned that day that "together we can" do what is impossible for just one of us to do. We became a team!
Up to that point I had my doubts that the thugs and straight-laced, jocks and scholars of our neighborhood could work together for a common goal and that the Downtown Teens could survive this unlikely coming together of worlds. They still show up at my house every Saturday during the school year and every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday during the Summer break with expectant hearts. Each year brings a different group. I'm not sure how they hear about the program which is privately funded by myself and a few dear benefactors. But come they do. Each year we build a team through hardship and obstacle to great to be faced alone. Each year we accomplish greatness. Each year we see some of our kids graduate from high school, get jobs, go to college, get married, start families. Each year we exhaust ourselves financially and emotionally for our "kids". And, every night I thank God for my opportunity to learn and teach.
Meanwhile, a group of concerned neighbors gathered at my office in the 'hood to talk about what we could do about the lack of jobs, recreation, mentoring offered our "kids". One of my board members came up with the notion that since we managed rental property which was always in need of repair, and we were occasionally constructing new residential properties, and there were many of our neighbors in need of a helping hand for their own property maintenance, that we should employ the teens to do that work. I naively thought that board member, who was very skilled in the areas of construction and carpentry in particular, would offer to form and lead this rag tag bunch of kids as they tackled these projects. I found, however, that the responsibility would be mine and I was fortunately able to recruit my spouse to help.
Each Spring our city hosts a city-wide clean-up effort known as Operation Brightside Blitz. We decided to recruit teens in our neighborhood to join us in cleaning alleys, vacant lots and neighbors yards and basements as our first project. I really did not expect much turn-out on that chilly spring day. However, I was surprised that when I went out to the back yard to greet my new workers, that 20 kids showed up. Tough ones and mild ones, troubled ones and stable ones. Brothers and sisters, cousins and unrelated. They had all come out to see what our little upstart project would offer them. In other words, they wanted to know if we were 'for real".
We grabbed our tools and went out to make a difference in the neighborhood environment, but in my heart I was embarking on an experiment with much bolder: to make a difference in young lives--before they would be lured away by drug trafficking, gang banging and other dangerous pursuits. Early on, we decided to pay these kids a stipend for their participation. We set up standards of work and behavior on the job. Each week attendance and performance were evaluated. We held meetings to determine the name of our group, sought input from the kids on how they thought they were doing and how they thought we (me and Teka) were doing.
Together, as a team, we tackled clean-ups, landscaping, demolition, site prep, rough construction, and really rough construction. The most daunting task was not the tasks we undertook in construction or demolition, but rather, the demolition of barriers of mistrust and the reconstruction of trust between us. We learned the concept of co-responsibility--that we all take credit for our successes and failures. We learned to treat each other with respect. We learned to take pride in hard work and a job well done. We shared struggles and meals, and at time, our home with these kids.
The defining moment for me that we had become a team and that the program meant something came on one of the hottest days of the year. One Summer we had been hired to perform demolition of a property slated for rehab. We stripped out the lath and plaster, we tore out plumbing and electrical we deconstructed walls and windows in preparation for the rehabbers to take over. Our last piece of the project was to tear off the roof. The roofing material had been built up layers of tar paper and tar and gravel for over 100 years. Each chunk of roofing was heavier and hotter than the last. One final section of the roof remained. The temperature on the roof was over 100 degrees. It took all of us working together to pry that section loose, lift it and throw it over the edge. When it crashed to the ground we all rejoiced together on that roof. High fives all around! We jumped up and down. We laughed. We groaned. Looking at each other, Teka and I realized we shared the same complexion with our kids--dirt and grime and tar dust covered all of us. We learned that day that "together we can" do what is impossible for just one of us to do. We became a team!
Up to that point I had my doubts that the thugs and straight-laced, jocks and scholars of our neighborhood could work together for a common goal and that the Downtown Teens could survive this unlikely coming together of worlds. They still show up at my house every Saturday during the school year and every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday during the Summer break with expectant hearts. Each year brings a different group. I'm not sure how they hear about the program which is privately funded by myself and a few dear benefactors. But come they do. Each year we build a team through hardship and obstacle to great to be faced alone. Each year we accomplish greatness. Each year we see some of our kids graduate from high school, get jobs, go to college, get married, start families. Each year we exhaust ourselves financially and emotionally for our "kids". And, every night I thank God for my opportunity to learn and teach.
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