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Esta página no está disponible en español. The Philadelphia Daily NewsJohn Gonzalez Brings Tidings Of Joy To West Kensington Helps Teens Find Safety, FriendshipBy DAN GERINGER
December 24, 2002 Night had fallen on North Fifth Street near Indiana when Santa arrived a little late at the West Kensington Boys and Girls Club, wearing civvies and his Santa hat. Miguel Rivera, 32, a volunteer who coaches the club's basketball teams, found director John Gonzalez in the sea of young children from Potter-Thomas and Willard elementary schools, and breathlessly apologized for being late. He said his Santa suit was in his car and asked hopefully if there was still time to put it on and give out presents. Gonzalez, 44, smiled with all the patience that his decades as a grass-roots community organizer had taught him. Some kids already had their toys, he said. But more kids were on the way over from Sheppard Elementary. Santa thankfully retired to his car to suit up. More kids are always on their way over, Gonzalez said, above the joyful toy-and-cookie-fueled noise of the party. The club, he said, is a life-saving haven in a drug-devastated neighborhood with a history of children caught in lethal cross-fires. West Kensington Boys and Girls Club is a clean, crowded testament to the ying and yang of adolescence: a Microsoft-donated computer lab for research and homework is a few steps away from Playstation 2, Xbox, big screen TV and a pool table for post-homework stress relief. The joint is always jumping. Somebody's always "got next." Outside, a block away, a guy with a cell phone glued to his ear prowls his corner, checking out every car that goes by with streetwise eyes. Inside, Gonzalez said, "This is my old neighborhood. When I was growing up around 4th and Berks in the late '60s, early '70s, me and my brother and the other kids on the block used to walk to school together and come home together. Our parents weren't afraid of something happening to us. Whenever the Phillies were playing, dad sat outside in a beach chair, watching the game. We used to leave our doors open. Nobody was afraid. "There were jobs. I remember my uncle came here from Puerto Rico, and two days later he started working on American Street, which was all factories." From the mid-70s on, Gonzalez said, "Stetson Hospital and Stetson Hats and all the factories were closing down, and violence was coming in. When I was a teen, I looked around and it hit me. Everything was crime, gangs, shootings, all those strangers hanging on the corners. You didn't see neighbors sitting outside no more. My dad would stay inside and tell us not to go outside. No more leaving your door open. People put those iron railings on their windows. "Sometimes I go by the 1700 block of North 4th Street, past the house I was raised in, and look around. The hospital got knocked down. The factory got knocked down. Most of the houses got knocked down. Almost everything is gone." Drugs and violence took over so quickly, Gonzalez said, that families were overwhelmed and helpless. "Neighborhood deterioration was like a cancer," he said. "It started at 18th and Mount Vernon. There was a big drug problem there. The government cleared the area out. So the drug problem moved down to 6th and Jefferson, then it headed this way. Now, it's all the way down to Feltonville and Juniata Park. When it moves in, it wipes out whole neighborhoods very quickly." One day, during Gonzalez's 10 years as a community liaison with United Way, he had an epiphany. "I visited this family at Lee and Indiana. I was in the house talking to the mom about this new program we had when her four-year-old son suddenly walked to the front door and tried to go outside. She immediately got up and ran and pulled him away from the door. She said there was a lot of drugs and shooting out there. I could see how frightened she was. "I got up and looked out the door. There was nobody outside. I mean, nobody. I thought, 'Oh, my God, these people are prisoners in their own homes.' That's when it really hit me. I became a community organizer." As both deputy managing director and community liaison for former Police Commissioner John Timoney's Operation Sunrise drug sweeps, Gonzalez was the go-to guy putting block captains in direct contact with city officials who could shut down the nuisance drug house or tow the abandoned car on the block that was making everybody's life miserable. More recently, Philadelphia Safe and Sound, the quasi-public child advocacy nonprofit which funds the West Kensington Boys and Girls Club along with United Way, found that the city served younger children much better than it served teen-agers. So a year ago, Gonzalez moved the younger club kids into after-school programs at their neighborhood elementaries, and turned the club building into a teen center. "The only problem was: we didn't have teens," Gonzalez said, laughing. "So I stood out on 5th, right in front of the building, grabbing teen-agers walking down the street, asking, 'You want to come in and see our new teen center?' I got a nucleus of 10 or 12. They brought their friends. We're crowded every day now from after school to 9 p.m." "We reeled in a lot of kids from Edison, Kensington and Olney high schools who would otherwise be in the streets," said program director Maria Aponte. "If you need to go to the library, they go with you," said Edison student Sol-Angel Ruiz, 14. "We have a computer lady here who helps you with anything you need for homework. We have rules: no foul language, no hats inside, no do-rags, no disrespect. You could leave money around and you come back later, it's still there. "We have salsa classes, art classes. We learn cosmetology in the salon next door. We learn how to bake in the bakery down the street. We mentor kids at Shepherd Elementary. I'm here every day with three friends from my block: Adamaris, Jessenia and Glorivy. We love it here." Because the aunt they live with works, the club is a safe haven for Tasha Lassiter, 13, and her sister, Alehea, 11, from Potter-Thomas. Tasha credits the club staff with helping her write the campaign speech that won her the student council presidency. Her campaign promises included brightening the school bathrooms with wall murals, and separating boys and girls at recess to eliminate "a lot of girls getting hit by the boys." She delivered on both promises. "You can talk to Miss Debbie, Miss Maria and Mr. John here about anything," Tasha said. "I love the cosmetology classes next door in the salon. We wash each other's hair and give each other facials. I'm hoping we get to work in a nail salon, too. I like that there's a lot of kids here and not too many rules, but enough rules so there's control and not chaos. I feel safe here." Khary Kirkland, 17, from Dobbins/Randolph Vocational, who lives around the corner, seconded that emotion. "I like it because they make you feel safe," he said. "They don't want you to be scared. Where I live at is not really violent, but I feel safer here." "I know if I got 35 kids here with me, under my wing," Gonzalez said, "those 35 kids are safe for as long as they're here. That's what this thing is all about. I'm a big believer in God. I believe God has been preparing me all these years to find out what I really want to do in life. I found out. This is it."
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