(soft music) (audience applauding) - Living on the southwest side of Chicago, it's almost impossible that you'll know someone who's connected to a gang.

Raised in a single parent household with two present but separated parents, being the oldest of three, and having transferred schools six different times, I was especially vulnerable to the influence of gangs.

When I was 16, I got one of the most life-changing phone calls I've ever received.

I was at Kedzie Orange Line stop on my way to visit St. Xavier University with a group of classmates when my phone rang.

It was my buddy Tony calling to tell me that my friend Andre had been shot and killed.

For a moment, everything went still, and for the next few hours, I felt like I was watching myself in a silent film.

Then, came the funeral.

I'll never forget walking toward the church.

From a block away, I could see the huge crowd that had flooded the streets.

It was one of the first times I felt the power of a community coming together.

See Andre.

Andre was different.

He wasn't afraid to dream outside his four block radius.

He had big aspirations.

He wanted to be a basketball coach and a PE teacher to work with young people like us.

It was then and there that I realized I couldn't continue living that lifestyle, but I also recognized something important.

I was desperately searching for three essential needs.

A sense of community, stability, and being seen.

Things that I had been looking for in all the wrong places.

And for a long time, those needs were met through the gangs.

But Andre's passing had a profound impact on me, and it forced me to make the difficult decision to walk away from that lifestyle and choose a new path.

In the years to come, I aspired to go to law school, but the reality was I was an average student and law school wasn't affordable for me and my family.

So, I looked at other options.

I decided to do my first two years of community college at city colleges for free, and then transferred to a four-year university.

At 20 years old, I was going to class, taking my college courses and working as a cashier at Walgreens.

But once again, those three needs were not being met.

So, I reconnected with an old classmate.

Now, we had known each other from school and we knew each other from neighboring neighborhoods, and we had similar backgrounds.

So, there was some trust established already.

And when the chance came to volunteer for a local basketball program in Back of the Yards, I jumped at it.

For the first time in a while, I started to feel those three things that I had been missing.

I felt like I was a part of something bigger.

That basketball program gave me the agency I needed.

It showed me that there were spaces, spaces where I could pour into others and they could pour back into me.

Spaces where those three needs could be met.

Little did I know that that would be the beginning of something far bigger than I ever imagined.

A movement that would not just transform my life, but the lives of countless of young people in the neighborhood.

Now, I never thought that my journey of self-discovery would lead me to become a community organizer and eventually the executive director of the organization I co-founded.

Now, before I tell you how I've been working with young people across the south side the last 10 years, I wanna tell you a story about a young 16-year-old girl from Back of the Yards.

We're gonna call her Alyssa.

One Friday night after a family party, she was walking home, like she'd probably done many times before, when she was shot and killed on 46 and Wood.

Exactly one week later, the community decided to respond with The Camp Out for Peace.

See, the youth were tired of the violence.

We were tired of the fear, and we wanted to feel safe again.

We wanted to take back our streets.

So, we did the only thing we knew how to do.

We took over the block.

We welcomed over 250 people for a peace march, and it was beautiful.

There were mothers with children in their strollers.

There were clusters of young people from the neighborhood, and even people from neighboring communities came out that night.

After the march, the camp out began.

And let me tell y'all, we had fun.

We had Loteria for the parents.

(audience laughing) So, if y'all know, that's like our Mexican bingo.

(audience laughing) And people were breaking bread.

Breaking bread over tamales and champorado and Little Caesars Pizza.

(audience laughing) Many of the teens from my own basketball program joined us, staying because they felt safe.

They felt connected to their community, and they were recognized by their neighbors.

That night, I realized something.

That those same three things that I have been longing for, community, stability, and being seen could be the pillars of the work that I do today.

That camp out sparked a movement.

We, as youth leaders started to learn how to organize with intention, creating safer spaces for the next generation.

We organized similar camp outs and other hot blocks across the southwest side, not just because we knew from lived experience that those areas saw more violence, but we understood the statistics.

In 2017, Chicago saw over 650 homicides.

One of the deadliest in recent history with higher crime mates compared to cities like New York or LA, despite that they had larger populations.

So for us, that data was a wake up call.

It showed us that violence wasn't just a local Chicago issue, but a crisis that needed urgent action.

Believing that our efforts could make a real impact in reducing violence, we committed ourselves to expanding, knowing that if we can empower young people in these high risk neighborhoods could change the trajectory of our communities.

Over the years, we expanded.

What started as one youth group became three-year round programs serving young people, ages 14 to 24.

We trained over 700 young people in community organizing training.

And over the last eight years, young leaders from our programs have emerged to become elected officials, serving on city council, founders of their own youth centers, business owners, entrepreneurs, and civic leaders that are continually giving back in meaningful ways.

We see this work create ripple effects with our young people and sparking that positive change.

And we know it'll continue with the years to come.

So as we did that, I realized something amazing.

That in my journey, I was healing parts of myself and helping other teens do the same.

See, Andre's story and mine are one and the same.

It's a story that too often plays out for Chicago's youth.

Seeking belonging and purpose, but sometimes choosing the wrong path simply because it's the quickest option.

It took me losing Andre to truly find myself.

We fail our young people when we don't directly invest in them.

We have the ability to compensate them for their time.

We have the ability to create spaces that are for and by them.

We have the ability to build long-term relationships that extend beyond ourselves.

This work doesn't happen without us.

Each of us has a responsibility to ensure that our young people not only have the tools to thrive, but to feel as equally invested to give back in meaningful ways to their communities.

So, every day I'm grateful.

I'm grateful for the chance to give back, to keep showing up for the next generation, and to help build communities where they can find what they need to.

But this work cannot be done alone.

This here's a long term commitment and each of us must act.

So I ask you, how are you investing in our young people today?

Thank you.

(audience applauding)