W. Zachary Malinowski
PROVIDENCE —
Rasheed Goode, a convicted drug dealer, was deep into his eight-year
sentence at the federal prison in Ray Brook, N.Y., when he saw a story
in The Providence Journal about an old rival from his days on the
streets of Providence. Goode said a copy of the paper was always
floating around the prison, which is located in the Adirondacks and
home to many mobsters, bank robbers and drug dealers from Rhode Island. Goode
read about how André “Ajay” Benton had left his criminal past behind
and had become a crusader for peace as a senior street worker at the
Institute for the Study & Practice of Nonviolence, based in South
Providence.
“I was stunned!” he said. “I was like, ‘Ajay changed?’ I couldn’t believe it.” Now
Goode, 31, who was released from prison last year, is hoping to follow
in Benton’s footsteps. He is among 10 new street workers — 5 full-time
and 5 part-time — whom the institute has hired to quell gang and youth
violence in the city’s worst neighborhoods. The newcomers
underwent three days of training last week at the Feinstein Academic
Center on the Providence College campus. The seminars were steeped in
the philosophy of nonviolence and building partnerships with schools,
social-services agencies, the police and neighborhood residents. They
also learned that the job can be dangerous, and how to deal with
hostile scenarios, such as being stuck in the middle of warring gangs. One
of the guest speakers was Sgt. John Carvalho, of the Police
Department’s Youth Services Bureau. He told the street workers to
develop relationships with school administrators and guidance
counselors who can quickly identify the students living on the edge. THE
POLICE know all of the street workers. Often, a patrolman who sees a
potential problem brewing with a gang of youths will contact a street
worker and ask him to talk to the teenagers. A troubled teen might be more willing to talk to a former gang member turned street worker than a police officer.
“I hope to see all of you in and around the schools,” Carvalho said.
“We want to create a better academic environment. You can really have a
positive impact on a lot of these kids’ lives.” The new hires
bring the total number of street workers to 17, with 8 of them
full-time, 6 part-time and 3 managers. Two of the street workers will
be assigned to Central Falls. Cranston officials have applied for a
$40,000 grant to hire a street worker through the institute to tackle
the growing gang problems in their community. One of the new
hires is Laotian and will work in Smith Hill, home to the Laos Pride, a
well-established street gang that is regularly involved in street
violence. Three other street workers are fluent in Spanish. The
institute’s executive director, Teny O. Gross, said that during the
interviews the institute was looking for candidates with an
understanding of the “street culture,” a sense of justice and the drive
to change the world they live in. The street workers will be
assigned to an experienced supervisor who will train and work with them
for the first 45 days, and they will remain on probation for 90 days.
The full-timers are paid about $28,000 annually, while the salaries for
the part-timers has yet to be set. They will each work 24 hours a week. Gross
said that the city gave his organization $100,000 from an allocation
under the federal economic stimulus program to help pay for the new
hires. He said that he needs additional funding to keep them on board
on a more permanent basis. As the street worker program has
gained more attention, Gross said more people have come to them seeking
help. He will soon meet with the Rhode Island Foundation, a
philanthropic organization, and other potential donors in an attempt to
secure steady funding. Gross said that he’s ecstatic to have the
largest force of street workers he has had since he formed the
institute in Providence about eight years ago. Until now, the peak
number of street workers was 13, in 2006, and there’s no question, he
said, that reinforcements are needed. DURING THE FIRST seven
months of this year, Providence had one murder and 13 people wounded in
gang-related shootings, while, in Cranston, 4 people were shot in gang
feuds. Meanwhile, the police say there have been scores of drive-by
shootings in which no one was struck. In the past, the institute
has had a woman or two on the payroll, but now five women have been
hired as street workers. Gross said that they can help girls and young
women deal with problems such as teenage pregnancy, abusive boyfriends
and other issues. “Half the population of the city is women,” Gross said. “Women’s needs are not being addressed.” Shawndell
Burney, 34, of Providence, is one of the new hires. She knew nothing
about the institute until her younger brother, Albert “B.J.” Burney,
was shot and killed in June 2003 outside the Century Lounge in South
Providence. The police believe that Burney, once an outstanding
basketball player at Hope High School, just happened to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time. Shawndell Burney said that the institute’s
street workers helped her deal with her grief and she was grateful for
their ongoing support. Burney said she worries about her son,
Devin, 14, and daughter, Daveena, 7, growing up on the South Side, and
she feels that she can make a contribution. “I’m not nervous,” she said. “I know a lot of the kids in the community and I know a lot of their parents.” She also knows that the streets are a lot tougher than they used to be. “Young people have no respect for themselves or adults,” she said. “It’s kind of scary.” The
full-time street workers are on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week,
to deal with a wide range of social problems among troubled youth. They
respond to murders, shootings and beefs between rival gangs that
threaten to erupt into full-blown wars. Police chiefs, judges,
probation officers and social workers have all credited their work in
tough neighborhoods. The street workers also organize youth basketball games, urge young people to stay in school and help them get jobs. Many
of them are convicted felons and several have served time in prison for
murder. Those experiences give them instant credibility on the street,
especially among impressionable teens or young men who want to be tough. Since
his release from prison, Goode has worked as a roofer and spent his
free time volunteering with young people as a basketball referee and
mentor. He feels that he has turned the corner and he wants to make
sure young people don’t make the same mistakes that he made. He’s hoping to work in the troubled neighborhood where he was raised — Mount Hope on the East Side. “I
was part of the problem for a long time, and I did a lot of prison
time,” he said. “I would like people to say, ‘He came home and got his
life together.’ ”
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