Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles, Calif.: Jun 5, 1997. pg.
1 - JILL
LEOVY.
(Copyright, The Times Mirror Company; Los Angeles Times
1997all Rights reserved)
Youth Hostile; Crime Prevention Program Tells At-Risk Teens to
Think
Positive; [Valley Edition],
Tony Newsom
Tony Newsom sees crime with the eye of a troublemaker who grew
up to be a cop. And the lesson he's learned is simple:
Delinquent
kids need attention.
They need, he says, using a phrase that would seem trite but for his
earnestness--to learn to be positive.
Newsom now lives by that conviction. Deciding that crime
suppression alone wasn't the answer.
On Wednesday, 30 eighth-graders in Santa Clarita completed a
course he designed, one of 17 different programs his
nonprofit
company, Positive Results, conducts in the L.A. area.
All the kids in the program at La Mesa Junior High School were
failing classes and some had been in trouble with the
law. Many
have since staged academic turnarounds--some astounding, others
modest.
That's good enough, says Newsom. Success is when "you give me a
kid who is failing and cursing at his mother, and by the
end, he is
polite to his mother and we are getting a C out of him," he said.
Newsom's program is one of scores of local, community outreach
programs aimed at steering youth away from gangs and
drugs. He is
among a small but passionate group of workers who believe their
efforts may save the costs of incarceration later on.
Nationwide, serious crime has dropped 7% in the last year, with a
larger 11.6% decrease in Los Angeles. In Santa Clarita,
where 40% of
those arrested are teenagers, the crime rate dropped 17% in the same
period.
Demographics and more aggressive law-enforcement tactics are most
often credited for the drop.
By contrast, prevention programs seldom track the impact they are
having, and there is debate about how effective they
really are.
But
advocates are firm in their belief that this is the way to bring
crime statistics down for good.
In the San Fernando Valley, such programs range from teen-
pregnancy prevention groups to softball leagues in
crime-ridden
neighborhoods. Many struggle along on shoestring budgets, often
depending on volunteer labor.
Hope in Youth in Pacoima for instance has helped thousands of
children and parents through mentoring and tutoring
programs.
Jeopardy, which is sponsored by the LAPD, offers recreational
activities such as boxing for kids who maintain a C
average, and
leave their baggy clothes at home.
"You can't expect a miracle overnight. . . but I see such a difference
in
these kids," said Dara Laski, a volunteer for the Police Activity League
Supporters youth center in Reseda. The center opened a
year ago and offers recreation, tutoring and mentoring free.
"A lot of kids would choose to do more positive things, but when it's
not even offered to them, what choice do they have?" said
Sandy
Kievman, who runs a Valley youth recreation program called KYDS. In
crime-ridden neighborhoods, "what you see is kids just
standing
around. They do nothing," she said.
Around the country, researchers are beginning to look at such
programs with a more critical eye. "Small wins are the
best you're
going to get" from most prevention programs, said Arnold Goldstein,
director of the Center for Research on Aggression at
Syracuse
University. "More power to them. But no one has magic in this
business."
A few years ago, such programs tended to focus on preventing violent
crime by teaching children anger management, said David
Andrews,
professor of human development at Ohio State University, a specialist
on preventing violent behavior in youth.
Andrews was involved in research that found those programs to be
largely ineffective, he said. More promising, he said,
are programs
that involve long-term mentoring, often by volunteers.
"If you look at what puts kids at risk, it's the lack of a caring
adult," he
said. "If you can introduce that in the form of a mentor for two or
three
years, you have a good shot."
Mentoring is at the heart of Newsom's program. Raised in South-
Central Los Angeles, Newsom said he went through a period
of
partying with gangs and earning Fs in school before turning his life
around. Now he shares that background with kids in similar straits.
At La Mesa, his program takes the form of a once-a-week after-school
class. Students who are failing are asked to participate
with their
parents' approval.
Typically they say they want cars, houses, clothes or Nikes. "I add it
up," Newsom said. "I say, 'OK, this is going to cost you
$2,200 a month.
How many of you make $2,200 a month?'"
The students spend the rest of the class figuring out what careers
they want to get the things they want, and how to get
started.
What emerges are plans that range from the far-fetched--to race BMX
bicycles, for example--to the pragmatic, like 14-year-old
Alphonso
Amore's plan to work for a city parks and recreation department.
When Alphonso was first selected for the classes, "I was like, whoa. I
thought I was in trouble." But the class turned out to be
"cool," he
said. Alphonso is eager to talk about his grades, which he said have
gone from Ds and Fs to Cs.
Rebecca Dalton, 13, saw her failing grades turn into A's. She says she
wants to be a lawyer. She was failing, she said, due to
"being so
worried about other things besides school."
All told, about 85% of the students in the class will graduate on time,
up from the 33% who were expected to graduate, and the
rest are
expected to finish their credits in summer classes, Newsom said.
Skeptics say the results from prevention programs generally are far
from clear. Many intervention programs "look great on
paper. . . but
there is no scientific evaluation telling us they work," said Bob Moffit
of
the Heritage Foundation, a conservative think tank.
Moffit says public money is better spent law-enforcement
solutions--nuisance-abatement measures, for example, that have
proven effective in deterring more serious crime, he
said.
But those dedicated to steering kids from crime are unfazed by
skepticism.
"These kids have pushed a lot of people away already," said Newsom. "I'm
not going to be pushed away too."
Times staff reporter Beth Shuster contributed to this story.