BOCAGE • COUNTRY CLUB • HIGHLAND • JEFFERSON TERRACE
THE SOUTHSIDE
KENILWORTH • PERKINS • SOUTHDOWNS • UNIVERSITY CLUB
ADVOCATE T H E A D V O C AT E.C O M
|
W e d n e s d ay, O c t O b e r 16, 2024
If you would no longer like to receive this free product, please email brtmc@ theadvocate.com.
1Gn
Jan Risher LONG STORY SHORT
Imperfect entertaining: real fun
STAFF FILE PHOTOS BY SOPHIA GERMER
GIVING HOPE
A kid plays basketball after school recently at YEP on Oretha Castle Haley Boulevard in New Orleans.
Youth Empowerment Project turns 20, grapples with future challenges
BY JAMES FINN
Staff writer
The cluster of buildings forms a community unto itself in the heart of New Orleans’ Central City. Shoppers amble in and out of a thrift shop that provides job training for teens. Kids refurbish bikes at a shop next door, learning a trade and practicing customer service skills. Across the street, outside an old bank-turned-childcare center, youngsters shoot hoops on a shaded court under the eye of Darren Alridge, 33, who first found refuge here from Central City’s streets some 15 years ago. The Youth Empowerment Project, or YEP, didn’t always have this much space. Formed just under a year before Hurricane Katrina inundated New Orleans in August of 2005, the nonprofit first operated out of a single office on the corner of Oretha Castle Haley Boulevard and Terpischore Street, helping kids in a far less-prosperous Central City piece their lives back together after returning from Louisiana’s youth justice system. Katrina unleashed an explosive need for schooling, counseling and support for navigating daily challenges in the rebuilding city. That landscape — and a scourge of violence affecting New Orleans’ young people — empowered YEP’s founders, with the help of donors, to deepen its roots and grow its services. “This country has too many resources, and we have too much responsibility, to not do all we can to give kids a sense of hope, to provide them with safety and security and love,” said Melissa Sawyer, one of YEP’s founders and the group’s CEO. Over the past two decades, YEP has added the bike shop, thrift store and the afterschool building, joining several developments that have risen to brighten a once-ec-
Kids get help with homework after school recently at YEP. onomically stagnant neighborhood. Its adult education classes, job training and free after-school and summer programs for kids ages seven to 16 are available not just in Central City, but in classrooms from New Orleans East all the way to Algiers. The organization now serves not just youth returning from the custody of Louisiana’s Office of Juvenile Justice, but practically anyone who needs its services. Its programs reach about 1,000 people each year across its locations in five parts of the city. Last week, YEP celebrated its 20th year in New Orleans. Those who’ve received YEP’s services — many of whom, like Alridge, later come back to work at the organization — say YEP offered a sense of community and direction when they needed it most. Many made their way to YEP’s high school equivalency programs during periods of upheaval after Katrina or following brushes with the law.
Mentor programs Alridge came to YEP on a referral from a judge in 2009. At 18 years old, he was facing decades in prison on a car theft charge, he said. He knew it was time to make a change. After growing up in New Orleans’ Calliope projects, Katrina set him on a path of instability, bouncing him around from St.
“We all know the ridge said as he waited for challenges we face, yet, kids to start streaming into the youth center one recent there is still something “I just needed to absolutely unique that will afternoon. find a place where I could be a always have New Orleans positive leader, and a positive and her people fighting role model to people who want outside her weight class. to be led.” We just put our heads down ‘Not all I am’ and do the work. We’re Wanda Rogers stumbled trying to help kids.” upon YEP one day in 2012 MELISSA SAWYER, one of YEP’s founders and the group’s CEO James Parish to Baton Rouge to Texas and ultimately landing him in trouble with the law. Going before that judge in 2009, Alridge felt a need to make a change as he contemplated how he would begin providing for his then-1-yearold son. At YEP, he secured his GED in just a few weeks. Alridge’s infectious energy and relentless optimism so inspired the organization’s staff that they hired him as a tutor in the adult education program soon after he secured his diploma. Now, as a site coordinator of the childcare center, Alridge mentors young men and boys who face many of the same challenges he once did. Pressures to take to the streets are much the same now as they were then, he said, though social media sometimes inflames tensions for kids these days. “I always was a leader,” Al-
after wandering out of Orleans Parish Criminal Court at Tulane and Broad. She was there for her son, who’d gotten into some trouble. But his court hearing was his ordeal to navigate, so Rogers went for a walk. She came across another part of YEP’s web of learning centers and community-support facilities: the organization’s Mid-City Adult Learning Center on South Broad Avenue, which offered free courses for adults trying to obtain their high-school equivalency degrees. The idea of going back to school appealed to Rogers. She’d been working as a custodian and had been turned down for multiple promotions because she didn’t have a high school diploma, she said. Rogers enrolled at YEP’s adult learning program that same day. Three months later, she’d secured her GED and earned a promotion to a super
ä See YEP, page 2G
In May, I bought and planted two small basil plants. By chance, I apparently chose the exact right places to plant them — one of them in particular. The right location paired with a summer that must have been perfect for basil led to a gargantuan basil plant — more like a garden shrub, really. I’m aware that I had little to do with its basil mightiness, but that did not stop me from admiring its girth and height each morning from my window. Watching something one planted grow is satisfying beyond reason. Throughout the summer, our family has made and eaten all the pesto, bruschetta and anything else basil-centric that we could think of to make. However, even though the heat continues, summer has turned to fall — and the basil knows. Its days are numbered. So, last week, on the spur of the moment, I decided to host a pesto party. In retrospect, I think this party idea was inspired by the way my uncle used to hold his annual boiled peanuts party. His party was exactly as advertised — 100 people would gather, and my uncle would boil vast quantities of peanuts in giant vats. People would then stand around and eat hot boiled peanuts. It was wonderful! Whether it’s boiled peanuts or pesto, there’s always a reason to have a party, right? Within 5 minutes of thinking, “I could have a pesto party,” I created invitations for the event to begin at 3 p.m. Sunday afternoon. I then texted the invites to 10 friends. (I’m aware that Miss Manners might not approve of invitation by text, but that was the only way it was going to happen. Good is better than perfect, right?) About an hour after I sent the invitations, I remembered that I had a book club to go to at 6 p.m. that evening — but the pesto party was on. People were excited. I let them know that the event would end by 5:30. All was well. I asked the guests to bring their own nuts and cheese for their pesto. I supplied the kitchen, basil and garlic, food processor and whatever else they needed that I had on hand. Another friend brought the olive oil. Other friends brought the lemons. Some of the people I invited were old friends — some were new. It turned out to be an intergenerational gathering. We had Gen Zs, Millennials, Gen Xers and Baby Boomers hustling round my kitchen, concocting nine different varieties of pesto. Everyone brought what they had to share — various jars, flavored olive oils, wide-mouth funnels and more. One new friend said she appreciated that the task at hand allowed for easy conversations and connections with people she had just met. The common goal sidestepped the social anxieties or expectations of a typical gathering. Each step of the task, whether tasting or gathering more basil offered a different opportunity to connect with someone new. We made pesto with everything from: n salted mixed nuts (it was chunky) n pistachios (it was really flavorful) n lots of walnuts (it took a while, but we got it right finally!) n a dairy-free/no cheese version (it was bright and lemony) n and a more traditional (and expensive) version with pine nuts. One friend said she was amazed to see how a few ingredients could be mixed in such different ways — and how each person put a twist on her pesto.
ä See RISHER, page 2G