On a sticky August afternoon in San Francisco’s Tenderloin, a handful of teens crowd onto a worn leather couch, passing plates of chicken wings around for their weekly "Wing Wednesday" tradition. The smell of buffalo sauce fills the small living room, where a game console hums in the corner — and just down the hall, two quieter rooms sit ready for homework and job-interview prep. At first glance, it looks like an ordinary after-school hangout. But this space, at 518 Ellis Street, is something the neighborhood has never had before: a first-of-its-kind youth violence prevention center that has become a lifeline for nearly 100 teens in just six months.
The center grew out of a hard truth about the Tenderloin. For 19-year-old Will — who didn't want his last name published — safe spaces kept disappearing. He grew up playing basketball at the local YMCA, which had opened its doors to everyone regardless of age. But the Y closed in 2009 and, despite promises, never reopened. As Will aged out of other youth programs, the neighborhood's challenges closed in around him. "If I wasn't with my friends, I wouldn't be outside," he said. "There's all drugs over here. I didn't want to walk through that. I wouldn't feel comfortable."
Today Will spends most afternoons at the new center. Staff helped him prepare for interviews, open a bank account, and learn to manage money. He went from intern to a full-time job in security — and now he works to bring more neighborhood kids through the doors.
The center is a one-year pilot run by the Tenderloin Community Benefit District and local nonprofit United Playaz, funded with $200,000 in private money. Since February, nearly 100 young people ages 15 to 24 — about 5 percent of the neighborhood's 1,900-plus residents in that age range — have walked in seeking guidance or a safe harbor when school lets out.
Program manager David Mark grew up here too and knows families like Will's for decades. The neighborhood is home to many immigrants, who make up 44 percent of the community. "The biggest goals for us — for them — are jobs and education," Mark said.
The center's data shows real results. In six months, staff have worked with ten young adults on probation; seven have gotten off, with two more nearing release. Violence prevention, Mark stresses, isn't only about weapons and drugs — many of these teens aren't engaging in the violence around them so much as struggling with isolation, graduation requirements, and finding work.
Two recent losses pushed the need into focus: a 19-year-old died from a gunshot wound last September, and a 17-year-old was killed at Hallidie Plaza the year before. "Goal number one was, we just need to get bullets out of kids," said Mike Vuong, a deputy director at the Benefit District.
Funding for the pilot ends early next year, and it's unclear whether it will be renewed. But Mark isn't worried about the kids losing hope. "It's a blessing though when I see them here and not on the street," he said.