An argument heated up last week at the Teen Center of DimockCommunity Health Center over a set of headphones. Two months ago,Jackie lent Alicia her headphones. While Alicia was sick with strepthroat, she let her sister borrow the headphones. When Alicia nextshowed up at the Roxbury center, Jackie asked for them.
That's when the trouble began: Although Alicia vowed to get themback, her sister became angry, a fourth girl jumped into the fray,the shouting escalated.
'If this had happened at school or somewhere else, it would'vebecome a real fight,' says Alicia Hall, 14, as she runs her fingersthrough her shoulder-length braids. 'But here, the counselor talkedto all of us about the headphones. We went into a room together andtalked about what happened. {The counselor} was really calm and tookit one step at a time. As far as I'm concerned, it's all over. Thatwas then. Today is today.'
It may seem a bit petty, silly even. But in Alicia's Roxburyneighborhood, Academy Homes Housing Development, which flanks Dimock,kids have probably been killed for less than a set of headphones.
Dimock's Teen Center celebrated its first anniversary last month,after one year of instilling healthy attitudes, values and mediationskills into girls like Alicia. One year of juggling a $300,000annual budget to provide medical services, health education,counseling and recreational activities for a core group of 40 to 50young people (about 30 each night) from Roxbury, North Dorchester andJamaica Plain. One year of offering a refuge for boys like Robert.
Five months ago, Robert Baxter, a 16-year-old from Mission Hill,was pushed by his mother to attend the Teen Center. Left to his owndevices after school, Robert was dabbling in drugs, crime, etc. Itwasn't his scene, he now realizes; it was just an attempt to be'down,' to look cool to his friends.
'At first, I didn't like it,' Robert says. 'I was looking at allthe kids here. I looked at them and I said, `What are you so happyabout?' In a sense, I was jealous because I wasn't as happy as theywere. It took me a while. It happened slowly. I started talking tothe peer counselors here. . . . Coming here kept me out of trouble.It kept me from doing the things I would've been doing before.'
Before, Robert would have spent his afternoon on the street, withhis friends. Now, once he leaves Hyde Park High, he heads over tothe Teen Center, does his homework during the allotted study time andthen uses his recreational time to play Ping-Pong. He's the reigningtable tennis champ, says Robert, a claim that many of the other kidsvehemently, yet cheerfully, dispute.
Once the kids begin to stream in at about 2 p.m., the hallway ofthe 11-room facility -- including medical examining rooms, a library,counseling rooms and a rec room -- located on Dimock's 9-acrecampus, explodes with sounds. Laughter, yelling, playful teasing,singing, gossiping.
Standing in the middle of the swirling melody of children andyoung adult voices is Michelle Nettles. When the 14-year-old is withher friends, she can't seem to stop talking, but taken away from thewarmth of their support, she clams up. Hands in lap and eyesrolling, she prefers not to analyze her time at the center, which sheattends Tuesdays, Thursdays and occasional Fridays.
How long have you been coming here? 'Since October.'
How did you find out about it? 'From my mother.'
What about it appealed to you? 'I don't know.'
You don't know? 'Nothing really.'
Nothing? Then why do you come, sometimes even three times a week,instead of just going home to Dorchester after school? 'I don'tknow.' Michelle pauses. 'I guess {the center} is all right.'Another pause. 'It helps you and teaches you stuff. Sometimes,' shesays slowly, 'it's kind of fun.'
By contrast, Robert openly lauds the center and admits his visitshere have changed his life for the better. One of his friends coulduse the center's help, Robert says, but he is white and, because ofthat, he is afraid to walk past Academy Homes to get to the center.
Academy Homes is divided into two sections, Academy I and II, anolder and newer set of buildings. The kids distinguish them bycalling Academy I 'the dark side' and Academy II 'the light side'because of their contrasting shades of paint. When children likeAlicia or 14-year-old Angel Garcia or 13-year-old Jackie Bowers talkabout 'the dark side,' the words have an ominous ring.
Bad things happen there, the children say. They are well aware ofthe dangers. Their fear had turned them into quasi-agoraphobics,unwilling to go outside to play games or gather with their friends.Now, they do those things at the Teen Center. Now, they and kidsfrom neighboring areas have a place to go.
