An After-School ‘Home’ Where Teen-Agers Can Be Safe

“A Place Called Home is a place where kids come to study and keep off the streets because there is so much trouble you can get into in South-Central, it just calls your name . “

Those sentiments come from an essay by 16-year-old Eboni Wilson, once a kid in trouble, now president of the Student Advisory Board of the youth center, A Place Called Home.

The center, five years in the making, came about because Debrah Constance wanted students at L.A.’s Jefferson High School to have wholesome after-school activities.

Last month, Constance--and the teachers and students and administrators of Jefferson High and the community--saw her dream fulfilled as A Place Called Home had its grand opening.

“I can tell you that we’ll teach modeling and makeup and drama to the kids,” says Constance, who describes herself as a former juvenile delinquent who gained self-esteem by learning to weave.

“I have photography teachers, I have workout teachers, I have computer teachers. I have every possible volunteer you can possibly imagine waiting to communicate with the kids.

“But basically, this is a safe place to play. Because there isn’t anyplace for these kids to go after school. You can’t hang around at school, because you do get shot at.”

Constance began working with Jefferson students in 1988, when she was in charge of community affairs for Jon Douglas Realtors. She persuaded Douglas to fund a variety of programs at Jefferson, including a Big Brother program between Douglas agents and students.

Constance involved Jefferson students in all of the community service programs she worked on for Douglas, including an AIDS walk and visits to the elderly.

Then she began hosting a Saturday morning workshop across the street from the school at the Morning Star Baptist Church. Even gangbangers would come by for a bagel and cream cheese and a few weaving lessons, a craft Constance has taught for 15 years.

Teaming with Morning Star’s pastor, the Rev. Arthur Jupiter, she conceived the idea of working with the teen-agers full time. Last April, Constance told Jon Douglas she was quitting to dedicate herself to A Place Called Home. Douglas gave her six months salary to help her get started.

First, Constance sought donations. Contributions came from the Peter Norton Foundation, Roth Family Foundation, CalFed and Master Protection Fire Extinguishers, a local company that donated the required extinguishers.

Books, computers, security systems and fencing all came in the same way. To raise more money, Constance and the students made T-shirts, and got retail outlets like Frontrunners to carry them. She also offers a “Join Our Gang” program for $100, which entitles members to a T-shirt, their name on a wall and “a free healthy drink or cup of coffee anytime.”

“We have our own little company,” Constance says. “The kids will work there and they will make money. I want this center run by the kids and I want it run for the kids. I don’t want it run by bureaucrats.”

There have been setbacks. To Constance’s and Jupiter’s chagrin, in late August the board at Morning Star voted not to allow the center to operate on its property. Within days, Constance tracked down another space three blocks away at the Bethel Church of Christ Holiness. With barely enough money to to scrape by, the center opened as planned. Hours are 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. Monday through Saturday.

Helping the teen-agers at Jefferson is only the beginning, Constance says. Night school, 12-step meetings, English as a Second Language classes and other services for the community are in the works.

“I’m talking about a center for kids, but once the center is started, I’m happy to have it open for the adults,” Constance says. “I want them here. That’s what this is all about.”