Mayor's youth council gives Cleveland youth a voice

This is one in a series of stories looking at efforts to improve children’s lives.

CLEVELAND — More security near the city’s recreation centers. Better school lunches. Bus passes to make it easier to get to and from school. More tutoring to help prepare for the state’s high-stakes exams.

In Cleveland, officials have invested heavily in a program that gives teens a voice in helping improve life for young people in the city, in addition to developing leadership skills.

Teens serve on the mayor’s youth advisory council, giving them direct access to Mayor Frank Jackson and other city officials and the opportunity to address issues ranging from the relationship between youths and police to the quality of schools.

“It really unlocks opportunities and doors you would never thought you could get into,” said Chester Lester, 17, who has been part of the program for two years and recently graduated from Collinwood High School.

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Being on the council "teaches you how to be a better leader," said Deyqun Efford, 19, who served on the council when he was in high school.

"When you get asked questions by the mayor ... it makes me feel important," said Aliyah Bolden, a senior at Magnificat High School who has been part of the youth development program for two years. "And it makes you take responsibility and start taking action for things. It gives you more power and confidence."

That's a big deal, given that teens don't always feel like adults are listening to them.

In focus groups with the Free Press last year, Detroit teens frequently cited a desire to have a voice in what happens in their city, saying that would help address safety and quality-of-life issues.

Alexis Wiley, chief of staff for Detroit Mayor Mike Duggan, said the mayor's office is pushing ahead with plans to create such an advisory council. There was no time frame given.

"We've had a few really great young people who came to us and said, 'We want to see this,' " Wiley said.

In Cleveland, the youth development program has been a key part of Jackson’s administration. Created in 2008, two years after he took office, it is centered around the 22 recreation centers in the city. Each of those centers employs five teenagers whose jobs are pretty varied: They learn how the center is run; they clean; they prepare for major events; they serve lunch to kids; they coach sports activities; they interact with kids; they assist rec center members.

"The students get their hands on everything," said Jen Ryba, manager of recreation for the city. "The more eager they are to learn, the more they'll learn."

From that group of five, one is selected to serve on the mayor’s youth council. All of the youths attend Saturday workshops twice a month, learning about things such as goal-setting, college readiness, community service, leadership and democracy in action.

The purpose, said Mike Cox, director of the public works department, “is to develop good citizens." It also aims to give "kids a helping hand so they can become productive, active citizens.”

Jackson, Cox said, has made the youth program a priority, protecting it from budget cuts during tight economic times.

“This program — he will not cut,” Cox said.

Getting real results​

Gabrielle Reeves discovered pretty quickly how powerful it could be to be on the mayor’s council. In 2008, when she served, members raised concerns about violence that was making it difficult for young kids to get to and from the centers safely.

“They really heard us and put more surveillance in those areas,” said Reeves, now 24 and a city employee. As a result, more kids started coming to the centers. Reeves still remembers what that felt like.

“I was excited,” she said. “I was like, ‘Ooh, what’s next?’ It makes you feel good that somebody cares. I’m not just talking to a wall.”

Eventually, the city assigned a police officer to work out of each of the recreation centers.

Njeri Barrett, 16, is part of the youth development program but hasn't yet served on the mayor's council. She said she believes it can play a key role in having adults take young people seriously.

“Adults are sort of a gateway to making things happen. So, if they don’t listen to us, then nothing is going to ever get done until we’re older,” said Njeri, who works at the Collinwood Recreation Center and is a senior at John Hay Early College.

The city designed the council so its members would be ambassadors for their peers — representing their interests before the mayor and other top officials, said Monyka Price, chief of education for the city.

When they raised concerns about the quality of school lunches in the Cleveland Metropolitan School District, which is under mayoral control, the district's food-service director began a months-long project, hearing specific concerns about what students don't like and even conducting a taste test with council members.

As a result, healthier lunches were incorporated.

"Not every child loves the lunches," Price said. "But, there was an improvement because of the students' voice."

The same happened when students raised concerns about transportation to and from school and talked about the pressures of preparing for the state's high school graduation exam. To address that concern, district officials increased the number of preparation classes students could take. To help with transportation, the district expanded the number of students who were transported to school and provided bus passes for some to take city transportation.

Jackson said the council’s influence is, in large part, up to its members.

“They come, they talk. If they raise legitimate issues, we deal with them," Jackson said. "If they have a legitimate thing they want to accomplish, we’ll work with them.”

He's rarely surprised by what students bring up, he said, because he lives on the same block his family has lived since 1960, "in the heart of what goes on." It's one of the poorest areas in the city.

That connection to the city, Price said, means Jackson is "truly touched by and affected by" the same things as residents. It's also why he speaks with a frankness that illustrates he understands what young people are facing.

“He's direct. He doesn't beat around the bush," said Taaibah Maani, a recent graduate of Westlake High School who just wrapped up a stint as president of the council.

And he challenges the students.

"He wants you to be driven to take action. Don't just wait for somebody to fix your problem. Seek help, but you still have to be part of the solution," said Mark Walsh-Frazier, 21, who served on the council when he was in high school and now works for the city as a lifeguard.

Council members say there are many issues they'd like to see addressed, including improving the climate in schools, creating tutoring programs at the recreation centers and ensuring that all children attend good schools.

Noah Rodriguez, a senior at James Ford Rhodes High School and a member of the council, would like to see the city re-prioritize how it completes construction projects.

"I understand that the city is still under development and there's always construction being done, but it's always in the wrong places. There are places ... like the neighborhood where I live, where the roads are completely torn up."

The issue of policing​

The teens have frequently used their role to address sensitive issues such as the relationship between youths and police. It's a topic that has come up frequently, Jackson said, even before the 2014 shooting of Tamir Rice, the 12-year-old Cleveland boy who was playing with a toy gun in a park when he was shot and killed by a police officer.

"We have had them in front of our police chief," Price said. "We've had our commanders here, as well, speaking to the young people. We always think about how can we heal the breach. Our young people want that for themselves."

And so do police officials, Price said.

Jackson said black males in particular feel some police officers treat them like criminals, or with a disrespectful or rude attitude. Jackson is sympathetic to their concerns, but he's also realistic. He reminds them that sometimes, police are treated the same way by some youths.

Jackson also recognizes this: Kids today are scrutinized and punished for transgressions that, when he was a kid, would have gotten him sent home.

"It's just very difficult being a kid these days. It's more challenging. The environments are more challenging. The obstacles are more challenging. The system ... is more rigid and unforgiving than it was when I was younger."

These are things young people must understand.

"They have to accept responsibility, also. You have to grow up faster, which means you have to make better decisions, and you have to make them more often," he said.

Interviews with more than a dozen current and former participants in the youth program found mixed views on the topic. Some of the youths said police officers only approach them when there's a problem, do nothing to build relationships with them and harass them when they're doing nothing.

But others said they see officers regularly reaching out to youths, are disturbed that some kids are being raised to hate officers and say that while they know some youths have had negative experiences with the police, they shouldn't paint all officers with the same "bad cop" brush.

"I have some friends who are like, 'Forget the police.' And I'm like, 'They keep me safe and keep all my stuff safe in my house,' " Walsh-Frazier said. "I'm fine with police. I don't do anything wrong. Don't do anything wrong unless you want to talk to police."

Rewards on all sides

More than anything, being part of the youth development program is giving the teens a feeling they're making a difference in the lives of younger kids. It's a role they take seriously.

"Growing up, I didn't have a big brother figure," said Anthony Dickerson, 18, who attends Heidelberg University in Ohio. "So if I can be a big brother to anybody younger than me, then that's what I want to do. I feel like it helps them in the long run."

Daisy Stiegelmeier, 18, a recent high school graduate, coaches volleyball at the Gunning Recreation Center. It puts her in constant contact with kids.

"They look up to you so much. They really want to be like you, and I think that's what's so rewarding."

When Reeves worked at the Glenville recreation center, she created a program called Girl Talk. It brought girls together to talk about everything from bullying to hygiene. She started it because she saw too many instances of girls picking on other girls.

Reeves grew up in the area, and still lives there. She said had it not been for the recreation center, she wouldn't have had a lot of experiences: water walking, skiing, snowshoeing, horseback riding.

She said it's important for children to learn they don't have to be limited by their surroundings.

"Children need that."

Contact Lori Higgins: 313-222-6651, lhiggins@freepress.com or @LoriAHiggins