Cleaning Up Their Act

In a town where those in “the Industry” often project a self-serving image, Monica Guy, Eric Welch and Ruth Livier are a class act.

And class is exactly where the three actors have spent the past four months, teaching junior high students in Los Angeles how to act out their aggressions on stage instead of on the streets.

They are among 40 performers, writers and others from the entertainment field who are using show business techniques to gently steer youths away from gangs.

The nonprofit group they call Inside Out does it by tapping hidden talent found in some of the city’s most vulnerable youngsters--those living in neighborhoods plagued by drugs or in homes troubled by dysfunctional families.

The unusual esteem-building program seems to be working too.

“When I came here, I had no confidence. I thought everyone would think I was a loser,” said 14-year-old Maria Miranda of Lincoln Heights. “But now I know you don’t have to join a gang to have genuine friends, to have people listen to you.”

There was proof of that Wednesday afternoon at Nightingale Junior High School as the eighth-grader relaxed among 30 of her friends. There was joking banter and heartfelt hugs as the group wrapped up its 15-week Inside Out session.

The children had been strangers before they sat down to collaborate in writing and producing short plays. At first, a few had come across as loud-mouthed, know-it-all bullies. Others had been so painfully shy that they kept their heads on their desks during the initial 2 1/2-hour after-school session.

“I learned that I never have to be afraid to go up and talk with anyone,” said 12-year-old Elvia Padron, whose group put together a play that dealt with solving problems with gangs and families. “I learned I’m somebody.”

Another sixth-grader, Victor Mejia, nodded in agreement. “Before this, I’d never have been standing here talking to you like this,” he said.

Eric Welch, a film and television actor from Studio City who volunteered at Nightingale, said the students drew from their own experiences in producing their plays.

One sullen boy with ties to a gang surprised everyone by using his graffiti skills to paint stage scenery backdrops for a play with an anti-gang message, Welch said.

Maribel Lopez, 14, said that her group invented action-hero characters to deal with the issue of child abuse in the play it wrote and performed. “We just let our imaginations go,” she said.

Another eighth-grader, 14-year-old Edwin Rivera, said his writing efforts helped his regular classwork. “It improved my writing skills. I got an A this time in English,” he said.

School officials say that’s not an uncommon side-effect of the 6-year-old Inside Out program.

“Numerous kids have come back to say that one of the most lasting effects from this school was the Inside Out program,” said Mike Taft, assistant principal at Adams Junior High School south of downtown Los Angeles.

Taft admitted Thursday that he was initially skeptical that the program would work when the actors first showed up five years ago. But he said the performers quickly forged a bond with some of his school’s toughest students.

“Instead of going to their local gangster friends and finding support there, they get it from the actors and actresses,” he said.

Inside Out co-founder Jonathan Zeichner said that the program’s technique of mixing students--combining boisterous youngsters with shy ones and those considered at-risk with those who are not--benefits everyone.

“Kids are often shut down at home,” said Zeichner, a Venice writer and filmmaker. “Limitations are constantly mirrored back to them: ‘You’ll never get out of the ghetto, you don’t speak English well enough to get by.’ In this program, little by little they find respect for themselves.”

Camille Ameen, the program’s other co-founder, said: “Our philosophy is, kids at risk need to know kids who aren’t. Kids need to know kids from a socioeconomic strata they’re not familiar with.”

Inside Out’s own economic strata is low to the ground. It squeaks by on a $100,000 annual budget financed from grants and donations from businesses such as Sony, Kodak and Xerox, according to Ameen, a theatrical and film actress who lives in Mar Vista.

Small stipends are paid to the six performers who help lead each group of 30 children. This year’s program involved about 500 children at five locations, she said.

In a town full of actors and other artists, why isn’t the program larger?

It could be because of “the weird schedules” that performers have, said Ruth Livier. She’s a Los Feliz actress who had to miss Wednesday’s final Inside Out session at Adams Junior High because of a rehearsal for “The Indian Queen” at the Long Beach Opera.

But it could also be that many professional performers are a little like the children themselves: a tad low on self-esteem.

“Most people probably feel they need to be perfecting their craft” in their spare time instead of volunteering with children, said actor-singer Logan A. Johnson Jr. of Hollywood, who worked this year at Holmes Junior High School in Northridge.

Inside Out could give them a boost, said Monica Guy, a dancer and actress working Thursday at Adams Junior High.

“Actors get so much rejection,” said the Woodland Hills resident, who has been involved with Inside Out since it started.

“This is one thing in my life that always makes me feel good.”