Teens pack city council to protest lack of summer jobs

Serghino René

Carlos Moreno was at the right place at the right time. It was Career Day at the Harbor School when Barbara Lee Anderson of the Bowdoin Street Health Center started talking with him about a job.

That was three years ago. Moreno is now 18 years old and a youth coordinator for the nonprofit organization Roxbury Environmental Empowerment Program (REEP) with an optimistic outlook towards his future. Compared to countless other inner city youths, Moreno is an exception.

With a national unemployment rate among teenagers hovering around 25 percent, the city appears to have more than its share of idle teenagers.

Like 16-year-old Marcus Fairfield of Dorchester. He has been out of school for almost three weeks and has been unable to find a job. He has contacted several organizations, both private and public, only to be told that employment slots are full or that he is too young. As a result, he is convinced there is nothing out there for him.

Snickering, Fairfield said, “I could work at McDonald’s, but what is that going to do for me?”

With little else to do, he says he spends his days on the corner of Winter and Washington Streets in Downtown Crossing.

Police have stopped him for looking suspicious, and while he quickly tells them he doesn’t have a criminal record, they continue to ask questions.

For countless other teenagers like Fairfield, the real problem is not the police but rather the lack of public and private funding for summer jobs. The reality is that a number of organizations want to hire more youth, but can’t because they don’t have the money.

“I would love to give out jobs to any kid who asked me, but I only have funding for a few jobs,” says Abigail Ortize of the nonprofit Team MITA. “With more money I could take in more kids.”

To protest the lack of funding, scores of teenagers, accompanied by several officials from nonprofit organizations, jammed Boston’s city council chambers last week, hoping to discourage elected officials from approving the proposed $2.14 billion dollar budget that critics argue shortchanges funding for youth summer jobs.

They held hand-made signs with slogans like “Prove that youth are a priority” or “Your $$ or our lives.”

After two hours of delegations, the budget passed, but not before agitated teens shouted “Please vote now! Please vote now!” and interrupted City Councilor Jerry McDermott in the midst of his time on the floor.

“This is a very modest, unimaginative and timid budget,” says Yancey. “I’m urging this body to vote no to this budget because it doesn’t help youth.”

As the argument goes, without jobs, idle teenagers are more likely to find trouble and that means some sort of involvement with the police.

Seventeen-year-old Amilton Pires of Dorchester remembers the days when it was once possible to have a positive, ongoing relationship with a police officer. Those days appear to be gone.

“I live in the city’s Cape Verdean community and when I was younger, I used to look up to the police,” Pires said. “They were nice people anyone could approach. All that has changed. People used to look to police for help, now when people think of the police they think more trouble.”

City Councilor Chuck Turner argued that it would take a lot more than sheer numbers to make a difference on the streets.

“When people talk about police, they want community police,” said Turner. “They want a relationship with the police and that relationship will trigger a decrease in crime. We don’t want them just driving cars.”

Councilors Turner, Sam Yoon, Felix Arroyo and Charles Yancey addressed the budget’s inadequate focus on youth. Other officials encouraged the youth to think realistically and tried to make it clear that they are doing everything in their power to work for them as well as the rest of the city, but the teens weren’t buying it.

After a sudden outburst from the frustrated teenagers, McDermott explained his resistance. “Just because you want some job,” McDermott said, “there is no guarantee that the government is just going to hand it to you. We need to teach financial literacy and how to make resumes to these kids.”

Aakeeda Burns of the nonprofit YPACT, stared blankly into the city council chambers as the hearing came to a close. Although she has a job now, the city has plans to shut down her program due to lack of funds. She came to the hearing on her own in support of those who want a summer job and questioned whether the city understood their needs.

“A lot of these kids have no jobs, are on welfare and struggling,” Burns said. “Times have changed and most young people in the inner city are struggling financially and educationally. If students have a place to get money, they have no reason to go find money elsewhere.”

Although the details of the budget may not be ideal and the current summer outlook appears rough, strides are being made towards change. With summer already here, the violence is expected to spike. Even if the number of shootings remains steady, Boston is on track for a projected 616 shootings this year.

In hopes of improving the summer outlook, the nonprofit organization Teen Empowerment recently invited community activists, members of the media and local politicians to discuss the contributing factors to teen violence in the city.

Since 2000, there have been many budget cuts to various programs, but the most heavily targeted reductions have been to youth services. Funding for after-school programs alone went from $13 million in 2001 to zero by 2003. Boston teenagers want jobs, money, valuable work experience and a reason to do something other than hang out in the streets.

State Senator Dianne Wilkerson said that teens are consciously choosing criminal activity as a career choice.

“In urban centers around the country, there is a constant daily diet of violence,” said Wilkerson. “Back in the day, if someone in the family had bad ties, they were disowned. Now it’s, ‘We know Johnny deals drugs, but it’s okay. We just won’t talk about it.’”

State Rep. Byron Rushing said that the government doesn’t see public policy as an ongoing effort and that attitude needs to change.

“When the [statistical numbers] are low, we think the problem is fixed,” said Rushing.

Like with funding for teenage pregnancy prevention. Funding steadily decreased from $6.2 million in 2001 to $1 million in 2005. But as the funding decreased, the birth rate for teens between the ages of 15 and 19 increased. Holyoke, Mass., for example, had a 12 percent increase between 2002 and 2003.

“We go along asking, what’s wrong with these kinds? Adults. That’s what’s wrong with them,” said Wilkerson.