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“Showing Up” for Young People: How One Nonprofit is Choosing Guitars Over Guns

Some kids get to live their dreams. Some, well, they fall through the cracks. Some have access to programs that challenge them and bring out the best in them, while some look around and see nothing but low expectations and indifference, or worse. Dr. Chad Bernstein, founder of Guitars Over Guns, may have been one of the lucky ones, but, for the last 12 years, he has been using that privilege to lift up at-risk youth in Miami and Chicago.

Guitars Over Guns, which Bernstein founded in 2008, offers kids in vulnerable communities a chance to participate in a music education and mentorship program that aims “to help them overcome hardship, find their voice and reach their potential as tomorrow’s leaders.” His organization, which has professional musicians both lead music classes with at-risk youth, as well as provide a one-on-one mentoring relationship, has been wildly successful. They are proving that the secret to engaging with the kids that seem the hardest to reach may not be such a secret after all: as Bernstein says, you just have to “keep showing up.”

trombone with a musical sheet in front of it — *Through his tough times growing up, Dr. Bernstein found his refuge with music and the trombone in the school band.*

“A Refuge and a Voice”

While he was growing up, Dr. Chad Bernstein, like many kids, found a safe space in the arts. He suffered the normal childhood slings and arrows, dealing with bullies, self-esteem issues, and disengagement at school. When he discovered the school band and the trombone, though, his world changed. Playing in the band gave him a place to be himself, and to find an enjoyment in going to school that he hadn’t found before. “Music has always been my identity, even when there didn’t feel like there was anything else in the mirror that I could hold onto,” Bernstein said. “It gave me refuge and a voice.”

For Bernstein, his access to an engaging school music program led him down a path full of opportunities to do what he most wanted to do. He attended the college of his dreams, The University of Miami Frost School of Music, where he also went on to receive his master’s degree and doctorate. He has been able to tour the world and record with top musicians, as well as help create the sound of Miami with his two bands, Suenalo and the Spam Allstars. But it was one small favor for a friend that led him to what seems to be his true calling: changing the lives of young people through music.

“The Power of Music As an Escape”

In 2006, a friend asked Bernstein to speak and perform at a career day for young people in a juvenile detention facility. The visit got off to an unpromising start, and it seemed as if Bernstein was in for a depressing day. First, some of the instruments his band had brought along to play were taken away: “We couldn’t bring our guitars in, or anything with strings, because [they said] the kids might use them to strangle us,” remembered Bernstein.

Things didn’t seem to improve from there. When he got up to speak, the kids’ eyes glazed over. “They had zero interest in what we were saying…We were in a room with 40 kids convicted of God knows what. Nothing was landing, there was no connection,” he said. But then the band started playing. “Then they started listening,” said Bernstein,” They got into the moment. It was beautiful to see the power of music as an escape for whatever they were going through.”

Kids started nodding along, engaging in call-and-response, then chanting, then rapping. Something amazing happened: they made the song their own and everyone began jamming together. Bernstein felt that same excitement he had felt when he had first encountered the school band, and another amazing thing happened. Bernstein decided that he wanted to use music to reach the kids in his community who most needed to be reached.

“You Have to Prove It”

From that one favor for a friend, that started out so discouragingly, Guitars Over Guns was born. It began as an informal, volunteer-based program, with Bernstein and others mentoring young people and offering them music instruction. But when he saw the results, Bernstein decided to dedicate more of his time to it; he sought help from his father and turned Guitars Over Guns into a formalized nonprofit organization.

Bernstein, like many of us, was aware of the bleak prospects for kids who fall through the cracks. The kids he saw when he started volunteering had no one to connect to, and some were experiencing traumas way beyond their years. They were “working through trying situations — homelessness, attempts to be set on fire in their sleep by their parents, some who drive themselves to school because their parents are alcoholics,” he said.

black and white picture of a hand on a fence. — *The kids he began working with were in danger of dropping out of school or ending up in jail.*

The kids he began working with were in danger of dropping out of school, as approximately 1.2 million children do every year in the U.S. Not only are young people who dropout of school likely to earn almost $400,000 less than high school graduates, and approximately $1 million less than college graduates over their lifetimes, but they are far more likely to end up in very bad circumstances. According to recent studies, on any given day, 1 in 10 high school dropouts is in jail or juvenile detention. They are also more likely to live in poverty, give birth at a young age, and suffer from poor health.

But where others might see hopelessness, Bernstein saw an avenue for reaching at-risk kids before things became, well, more risky for them. He realized that “all” you have to do is be there for them, 100%, and show them that they’re worth your care. According to Bernstein, “Nothing you can say can build that trust and create that vulnerability to create a relationship. You have to prove it and it takes a long time,” he says. “Give your word that you’ll be back even though they might flip the bird and tell you to go fly a kite … in less nice words. When you come back it says more than you ever could have.”

So Guitars Over Guns kept coming back, matching students with mentors, all of whom are professional musicians, and getting the kids to engage in music lessons (with healthy doses of affection, fun, and discipline). With all of this hard work, Bernstein saw kids’ lives changing for the better. The numbers bear that out: of the more than 4,000 students the program has reached since 2008, 94% improved their GPAs and school attendance records, and 99% have been promoted to the next grade on time. In surveys, 91% of participating students say they’ve learned to better appreciate their own talents, 94% report improved decision-making skills and 98% report increased confidence and self-esteem.

“The Freedom to Choose a Path of Their Own”

The numbers above are not only promising, they’re astonishing. The success of Guitars Over Guns exposes the truth that, as they state on their website, “It’s not that [children in underserved communities] don’t hold the same promise as other students. And it’s not that they don’t have dreams of their own. It’s that, due to circumstances beyond their control, they don’t always know that they have the freedom to choose a path of their own.” Bernstein’s solution is clearly art. As he says:

[Art is] a reflection of a place where people see themselves represented and feel they’re the authors of that space, tell their story, share their culture and celebrate who they are freely. The arts are both the best representation of that and the embodiment of what that spirit and culture is. Music has always been a blank canvas for those to speak up, particularly if the table doesn’t have space for them. People are able to unload, at least in moments, through music, and it’s one of the most sacred things we have. Sometimes those opportunities to escape and be immersed in it is what helps many of us get through the day.

And the kids Guitars Over Guns has reached? There are many who offer their very positive take on their experience with the program, including Junior Pierre, who was once in continual danger of failing out of school. After participating in Guitars Over Guns, his grades and engagement improved, and he eventually went on to not only graduate, but receive offers of scholarships to prestigious music schools. When speaking of Bernstein, he said: “Chad has seen something in me that I probably would have never seen. Guitars Over Guns has shaped my future desires and what I want to get accomplished.”

The students who work with Guitars Over Guns see the same benefits to music that Bernstein sees, and it is so inspiring that this organization has given them the voice (and the refuge) to find that “space” and ability to “tell their story” within themselves. According to another program participant, Jakaree Whyms, “One thing that music does is help you understand what you can and what you can’t control. Because you can put stuff in lists and into bars and put those into music and you start to understand the bigger picture. What you couldn’t convey first, [you learn] because you were misguided with anger and all these emotions that you couldn’t understand.”

If you would like to help out, you can donate to Guitars Over Guns here; head to their website to find other ways to get involved with them.

Breaking Bread and Building Bridges: How One Organization Is Changing Lives and Minds

Jin-Ya Huang might have the secret to building both a successful business and a nonprofit organization that has lasting, tangible effects on people’s lives. Her unique catering company, Break Bread, Break Borders is building bridges between diverse communities and giving a leg up to the most vulnerable among us. Her business model? She employs women refugees, using their existing talents as cooks, and trains them to become confident chefs who can also run their own businesses. These empowered women can then move on and expand the catering franchise, which both boosts BBBB’s business and helps them achieve their own lasting financial independence.

Jin-Ya Huang standing around a table with food on it and women with hijabs on — *Photo by Rey Berrera. BBBB cooks serve their food to customers, and as they do so, they tell the stories of their cuisine, their lives, and their homeland.*

The benefits to the community of BBBB’s work don’t end there. What makes BBBB truly unique is not just the opportunity it gives to refugees, but also how it involves the community to which the “community cooks,” as they’re called, have been relocated. The women don’t simply cook the food, they also serve it to their customers; as they do so, they tell the stories of their cuisine, their lives, and their homeland. The result? To date BBBB has empowered 20 women to achieve economic independence, has changed the lives of those women’s 80 family members, and has also changed the minds of over 9,000 people, who might have once seen refugees or immigrants as “other” to them.

“My Pillar, My North Star, My Guiding Light”

Jin-Ya Huang knows what it’s like to be uprooted in search of a better life. Her family escaped communism and took refuge in Taiwan, then later moved to Texas when she was just 13. As difficult as it is to relocate to a new country where you don’t speak the language and where your economic situation is unsure, Huang and her family were resilient and found strength in family and in community.

“I want people to know I was fortunate that even though I grew up poor, my parents valued education immensely. They didn’t have access to higher education, so they made sure we did. They sacrificed everything to get us out of poverty in the farming villages of southern Taiwan. They saved up enough money for me to take art lessons and fostered my creative interest ever since I was three years old.”

But Huang’s parents taught her more than just a lesson about parental hard work and sacrifice; they taught her the importance of community and to work for the good of the world around her. “Investment in our communities is super important in all times,” she stressed. “My sisters and I were raised to volunteer at nursing homes, sew blankets for the homeless, and cook for the hungry at the temple.”

When Huang’s father lost his job, an opportunity presented itself, an opportunity that would eventually plant the seed for BBBB: her aunt and uncle asked if her parents would help out with their restaurant. The way that Huang’s mother, Margaret Huang, a chef, helped run that restaurant, as well as how Margaret instilled in her daughter the importance of volunteerism, had a powerful effect on Jin-Ya Huang. “My mom… was fluent in using food as an art form and a great equalizer,” she said. “Growing up, I saw firsthand how lives were transformed when she hired immigrants and refugees to come and work in our kitchen, train them with job skills, and sent them onto bigger and better opportunities.”

According to Huang, her mother was “my pillar, my North Star, my guiding light.” When Margaret Huang died of cancer, Huang knew she needed to turn her grief into action. Jin-Ya had used her art lessons to pursue her passion of becoming a “social practice artist,” and she was used to being out in the community and working to make change. It seemed natural to her to combine her art, which often involves the use of oral history to address themes of racial equity, with the legacy of financially assisting immigrants and refugees that her mother had left behind. “My mom instilled in me…the sense of doing what’s right, [of] being a good neighbor, and [of] practicing compassion every day. I hope my mom would be proud to see her work live on through the vulnerable population we serve…She deserves all the credit for the woman I have become today.”

“The Art Project Became a Social Enterprise”

Jin-Ya Huang looked for a way to honor her mother, and in 2017, hit on the idea of hosting community dinners at which refugee women would cook meals from their homelands. Because of Huang’s interest in oral histories, she decided to add a twist to the dinners: the women would serve up not only food, but compelling stories of where they had come from and of their arrival in the United States. The idea was to not only give these women a paycheck, but also to help other people in the community better understand the situation these women were in and what they had been through, and so to build bridges between them.

When working with immigrant and refugee communities, Huang had found that there were many people who are not part of those communities who didn’t understand what it meant to flee trauma and leave everything behind for the sake of your children. But Jin-Ya knew that there are all too many people in the world who need both compassion and an economic boost.

women in hijabs standing next to each other in a kitchen, with one woman sitting on the table smiling. — *Photo by Meredith Lawrence.*

The numbers are disturbing: according to the United Nations, there are now more than 70 million people in the world who have been forcibly displaced, many fleeing war, conflict, and persecution. The United States has traditionally been a safe harbor for displaced people, generally taking in more refugees than any other country in the world; in fact, more than 3 million people have been relocated to the U.S. since 1975. But in recent years, the U.S. has begun lowering our annual refugee admission rate, and opinions about whether it is our duty to help our fellow citizens of the world are now split, with only 51% of Americans saying it is our responsibility to take them in.

So Break Bread, Break Borders was born as a way to empower women refugees and build bridges; or, as a form of “art marries commerce,” according to Huang. The community dinners seemed to hit the nail on the head when it came to changing minds:

After our first community dinner, not only did people ask how they can get more of the delicious food – they asked how they can get more of the storytelling and the unique cultural content that they normally don’t have access to. Often times people had never met a refugee, let alone a Muslim, or anyone wearing a hijab before. Eating their food and hearing the women’s life stories made some diners wonder why they questioned how these refugees were taking Americans’ jobs. It got them to understand it was war and they didn’t have a choice, these refugees are not only homeless but countryless. It put a face on the food, removed the fear of trying international cuisine, reminded the attendees of their grandmother’s dirty rice from New Orleans and made the culinary experience more real and relatable.

But, the women cooking the food needed something more concrete out of the experience. “The refugee women also told us that while community dinners were beautiful – it wasn’t what they needed. What they needed were jobs. They didn’t want pity or handouts. They wanted to work and contribute to their families and support their communities.” The organization moved towards fulfilling “the communities’ needs for job opportunities, and the art project became a social enterprise, to supply the people’s demand.”

“When Communities Ask for Water, I Don’t Bring Them Fire”

The old saying goes, “man cannot live on bread alone.” But the opposite is also true: we can’t deny that we need the practical things in life in order to thrive. Jin-Ya Huang listened to the women she was working with and heard what they needed most. “My mom taught me the importance of listening and building trust. I may not know what I’m doing, but I will show up. If I don’t understand, I shall ask for help… It’s being mindful where I’m needed the most to help…When communities ask for water, I don’t bring them fire.” She transitioned BBBB from a series of community dinners to a working, for-profit catering company that each woman has a stake in. They are trained, move on to train others, and then can find other work or stay and help franchise BBBB.

In order to help lift women up, BBBB works to instill confidence in them through in-depth, practical training programs. Huang’s program sounds remarkably thorough: “We’re currently working with a group of women from Syria and Afghanistan, training them to acquire food handler’s permit and food managers’ license certification. They receive assistance from a team of staff advocates, language interpreters, board members, and mentorship from professional chefs, catering business owners, plus culinary consultants for on the job training, on how to work in commercial kitchens and overall, the food services industry.”

woman with hijab on with her hand on her cheek — *“Our community cook Rania from Syria used to lose sleep having to cook lunch for 8 people. Now, she has the confidence to cook for hundreds and as a successful entrepreneur.”*

The women’s confidence comes as they are taught to combine their culinary skills with the skills needed to manage a business. They earn a wage, they assimilate into the community while still honoring their culture and traditions, and they eventually help to train the next “class” of women before they move on to working in the food service industry or starting their own businesses. Huang gave the example of Rania from Syria, who has achieved financial independence through her work with BBBB. According to Huang, Rania ‘used to lose sleep having to cook lunch for 8 people. Now, she has the confidence to cook for hundreds, and as a successful entrepreneur, she has already started her own small food business, thanks to her training at our organization.”

Break Bread, Break Borders now combines artistic and storytelling activities that raise awareness and build compassion for refugees with a strong employment training program for the women who need it most. It was clear to Huang that there was a need for both, because the two are strongly linked: for communities to function, people need to feel like they are living with dignity and others need to see them as equals worthy of respect. BBBB seems to be doing an amazing job of accomplishing that task: according to Huang, while the average acclimation time for refugees is 7 years, most participants in BBBB are acclimated to their new homes within 2 years.

“A Transformational Impact”

Break Bread, Break Borders is changing the lives of refugee women and their families. Most of the women involved have children, and as Huang points out, “when the BBBB Community Cooks are making living wages, they are more concerned about their children making good grades in school instead of being worried where their next meal is coming from or how they’re going to make rent.”

Their lives have been transformed, and so have the lives of the thousands of people they have served, from curious individuals to major organizations. It’s no wonder that Jin-Ya Huang and BBBB have received so much recognition from so many sources, including being named among Dallas’ Top 50 Most Innovative Social Enterprises by Dallas Innovates, recognized as Food Leader by Slow Food USA, and as one of 27 Uniters across America by TIM magazine; Huang was also selected for the prestigious Presidential Leadership Scholars program. In the end, though, for Huang, it’s all about the women she has met through BBBB:

The incredible refugee women, the wonderful BBBB Community Cooks, they’re my inspiration. Their grit, resilience, and their talent never cease to amaze me. Through war, famine and trauma, they find the will to survive and support their families. They want to work, contribute to society and to help their neighbors. They want to achieve economic dignity, they want to practice kindness, they want to show the importance of eradicating xenophobia, they want the best for their children, they want to help people understand women are strong, they want to share their rich culture and heritage, they want to show peace by cooking the dishes they love. They have so much hope for humanity – it’s beautiful to see.

If you’d like to help, you can donate to Break Bread, Break Borders here. And if you’re in the Dallas area, consider having them cater your next event!

Superbands: How Supporting Mental Health Can Be Music to Your Ears

Trends in music come and go, but some things never change. Kids will always find ways to be cruel to each other, it will always be tough to be a teenager, and music will always have the power to heal and bring us together. Jessica Villa Sikora, founder of the nonprofit and online community Superbands, can attest to all of those things. When she was in her darkest places as an adolescent and young adult, she turned to music and the community surrounding it to heal her – and now she is trying to help young people in similar positions.

picture of jessica villa holding a cup of coffee up to her face — *Founder of Superbands, Jessica Villa*

“I Felt So Lost, Helpless, and Alone”

Everyone has been a middle schooler, so it is easy to understand the beginning of Jessica Villa Sikora’s story. When asked about the origins of her nonprofit, which seeks to support young people struggling with mental health issues, she paused, and laughed: “Well, middle school and high school girls are, um, quite mean.”

What she can look back and laugh at now was deadly serious at the time, though. She – like many of us – felt like she didn’t fit in at a new school, was shy and anxious, and was bullied mercilessly. She faced feelings of inadequacy, compounded by feelings of ingratitude to her immigrant parents, whom she felt had sacrificed so much for her to have a comfortable life in the US. For their part, they didn’t understand her struggle, and Sikora felt like she couldn’t talk to them about the bullying or the depression that was beginning to cloud her life. And so her downward spiral began.

What you might also recognize about Sikora’s story, unfortunately, is where her story goes next. Not only is bullying all too common – about 1 in 5 students report being bullied – but so are the mental health issues that Sikora began to experience as a young teenager. Almost 17% of young people aged 6 -17 – or 1 in 6 – experience mental health disorders, and that is just the number of people who are diagnosed. Among those, only around 50% receive treatment, and the average delay between the onset of mental health symptoms and treatment is 11 years. For many, help can come too late.

Depressed and anxious, Sikora began self-harming and attempting suicide before she even hit the age of 18. “I felt so lost, helpless, and alone,” she said, “and I didn’t know what I could do to ‘make myself better’.” Like many young people facing mental health issues, she was afraid to speak out, and was among the number who go undiagnosed and slip through the cracks. “My parents didn’t want to ‘waste’ money on therapy,” she said. But luckily, Sikora had something to lean on, something that became a way to “cope with my inner demons”: music. She found strength in a feeling of community, and eventually, within herself, and things began to turn around.

when words fail, music speaks written in front of a guitar piece — *“I pulled myself out of my depression based on looking forward to things, and on seeing the friends I made at concerts.”*

“It Was My Safe Place, My Escape”

Jessica Villa Sikora feels lucky that, despite her lack of support and treatment, she was able to pull herself out of all that, as she says. She’s very lucky, indeed. Sikora could have ended up another terrifying statistic: suicide is the second leading cause of death among Americans aged 10 – 34. So what helped her? “There was one thing I relied heavily on every moment I wasn’t in school – one thing that my parents would spend money on,” said Sikora. That thing was music.

Every day at school for Sikora was “a countdown to the next concert, the next album release. I pulled myself out of [my depression] based on looking forward to things, and on seeing the friends I made at concerts.” She found a community of “other weird Jonas Brothers [her favorite band] girls,” and the “weird” girls sitting next to her went from being “people I didn’t even know” to lifelong friends, who gave her a sense of belonging and have remained in her life – she’s even gone to their weddings.

So where does her story go from there? To a place we can only hope that it goes for any young person struggling with mental health issues. The quiet, bullied girl who had found community in music also began to find strength in herself. “By senior year [of high school], the girls who bullied me kind of grew up. I went to college, moved to campus, made new friends. [I realized] you can be literally anyone you want to be, so I told myself I’m not going to be the shy girl anymore and pursue the things I’m passionate about. You know, you attract the right kind of people when you start to figure out who you really are.”

“Every Time I Feel Like Giving Up, I Think: They’re Watching Me!”

After college, the once shy and anxious Sikora had big dreams about becoming a high-powered CEO. Philanthropy was not even something on her radar. She moved home after college to figure out her next move, and there she saw that her 13-year-old sister had become exactly like her: obsessed with music. Watching her sister, and reliving the pain of her own adolescence, she realized she didn’t want her sister – or anyone else – to go through what she had gone through. That’s when the idea for Superbands came to her – she wanted to create an online community to give struggling young people the same sense of belonging through music that she had found.

your song isnt over written with a heart rate — *“But the universe kept telling me to keep going.”*

When Sikora put the idea out there to the world of the internet, she was astonished to find herself with thousands of followers overnight. People were sharing their stories and telling her how much they needed her idea to work. What had begun as a tentative idea now seemed to be something she had to do: “Oh my god, I can’t not do this now,” she thought when she read all of the harrowing stories of teenage pain.

So she began building her online community, working through “trial and error, honestly…I ran everything through Google.” She thought many times, “Forget this, this is taking up too much of my time and money. But the universe kept telling me to keep going. The manager of the Jonas Brothers began following me on Instagram! Now, every time I feel like giving up, I think: ‘they’re watching me!’” And just when she was going to quit once and for all, the Jonas Brothers announced a reunion tour. She told herself it was a sign, and she kept going, promising herself one more year to try. After she went to the Jonas Brothers reunion tour concert in 2019, she felt a renewed sense of purpose.

A new idea hit Sikora after that concert: “I pivoted and didn’t give up on the idea of the online community, but now we want to bring teens and adolescents to concerts so they can have a night to remember when life gets hard and things suck. Then they’ll have these memories to hold onto, just like I had. I decided I wanted to turn it into a sort of ‘make a wish foundation,’ but in a mental health and music way. I’ve dealt with this invisible illness, and I thought: ‘what if we could give them one night away from it all?’”

So, in March of 2020, Superbands officially became a 501c3 nonprofit organization, and Sikora began doing the hard work of making that dream a reality. Then the unexpected happened: the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and concerts everywhere were cancelled. Sikora was disappointed, but she is ever-resilient in face of challenges: “Life is really what you make of it,” she said. “Rather than sitting around and being sad, this means that music execs are sitting home with time on their hands, too…So I started reaching out to them, putting all of my time into that, using this time to build connections, and they have been very receptive. So now I’m getting things into place to start making wishes come true.”

“I’ve Just Figured Out Who I Am”

Even with the setback of the pandemic, Superbands isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The online community is still thriving, and Sikora is thrilled that everyday she can see the reach that her group has, as members interact with each other and repost content. And now, there are over 700 people on the Superband’s waiting list, hoping to have their dreams of seeing a concert or meeting their favorite band a reality, and Sikora has ideas for how to make that happen as quickly as possible. “Maybe the first event will be a virtual one,” she suggested. “Then we won’t just be changing one person’s life, but we could be throwing 3, 4, 5 people on a Zoom chat and quickly and easily changing all their lives. If we could partner with a large donor, they could easily pay the fees for meeting the person, and change someone’s life.”

Sikora is impressively dedicated to making this all happen, and excited about the prospect – it’s easy to see that she genuinely wants to make a difference, no matter how big or small. “If we can make one person’s wish come true, and then it falls apart, at least we can say we changed one person’s life,” she said. But what about her life? How has it changed as her story has progressed from that of a troubled teen to the head of a nonprofit?

“I’ve learned to pull myself out of my comfort zone – you have to just go after what you want, if you want to connect with someone, reach out to them. I’ve also learned to pick myself up when I fall down and have changed the mentality of being afraid – I’ve gotten better at giving myself a little bit of grace. I’m still trying to figure life out, but that’s ok, more than anything I’ve just figured out who I am.” We could all use a little bit of that “grace,” and use it, like Sikora, to try to make a difference in the lives of others.

If you’d like to help, you can donate to Superbands here. For mental health resources, check out Superband’s excellent list here. Most importantly, never forget what it felt like to be a young person, and lend an ear and assistance whenever you see instances of bullying or recognize the signs of mental health issues.

Who Do You Run 4?: How One Facebook Group Is Inspiring Thousands

It’s easy to take what you have for granted, it’s easy to opt out of putting in the work to take care of ourselves, it’s easy to look at other people and not see them for everything that they are. Tim Boyle, founder of I Run 4, has been pushing against all of these instincts for the last 7 years – and his nearly 40,000-strong group on Facebook is proof that he’s making a difference. I Run 4 matches runners looking for inspiration with “buddies” who are unable to run themselves due to disabilities, and the result is often life-changing friendships.

“I Run Because I Can”

Sometimes we just run out of sources of inspiration. That’s exactly what happened to Tim Boyle in 2012. He was going through a divorce, struggling with his weight and a long-time smoking habit, and at a low point in his life. He’d also been battling depression for some time. He figured running could be a one-stop shop for everything: weight loss, cardiovascular health, and mental clarity. So, after he finally quit smoking in August of that year, he took the money he would normally spend on cigarettes and put it towards some new running gear.

Boyle quickly found that sometimes good intentions just aren’t enough; you need something to keep you going. That’s when a chance encounter on the internet changed everything. One day, while aimlessly scrolling, Boyle stumbled on a page run by a man named Michael Wasserman. Wasserman was auctioning off his paintings, but not to make money for himself – winning bidders were requested to send the money to an organization that focused on developmental disabilities. Boyle was intrigued and sent him a friend request, not knowing that he was starting a relationship that would make a huge difference in his life and the lives of many others.

It was Wasserman who would finally give Boyle the boost he needed to get moving, and keep moving. On a particularly low day, Boyle was looking for inspirational quotes and found this one: “I run because I can. When I get tired, I remember those who can’t run, what they would give to have this simple gift I take for granted and I run harder for them. I know they would do the same for me.” He posted it to Facebook and Wasserman was the first to comment: “You can run for me anytime.”

“When I Get Tired, I Remember Those Who Can’t Run”

Michael Wasserman was born with Down Syndrome in 1961. At that time, there was no genetic screening for the disorder, and parents were encouraged to give up their newborns and send them to live in institutions. Mary Wasserman, Michael’s mother, would do nothing of the sort. Said Boyle, “when she gave birth, they pressured her hard to put him in a home and let him sit there and rot. She is one of the true pioneers in the Down Syndrome community. She has fought for more rights for parents and children, and for more of a say in what happens to them.”

Michael, who was only expected to live to see his late 20s, is now in his late 50s, and doing well, according to Boyle. He is mostly nonverbal, and confined to a wheelchair due to hip dysplasia. When he told Boyle to run because he, Michael, couldn’t, Boyle took that very seriously. He wrote back to Michael and Mary (who helps Michael to communicate), “I want to be your legs. I am going to dedicate all of my training miles and my next race to you.”

Mary was wary at first; according to Boyle, “the special needs community can be very careful and closed off. I needed people to vouch for me.” But Boyle won them over, and began sending regular updates on his progress to the Wassermans. Michael, with Mary’s help, sent Boyle regular updates on his painting and his pain management.

Eventually, as he struggled to stay inspired while running during the bitter North Dakota winter of 2013, he asked a close friend, “If I’m doing it [running for someone who can’t], do you think other people would want to do it?” That’s when he created the Facebook page I Run 4 Michael. Boyle and Mary Wasserman began reaching out to those in the running and special needs communities, matching each interested runner with a “buddy” living with a disability, and the group expanded. Eventually, the Facebook page and accompanying nonprofit organization, I Run 4, was born.

“It Doesn’t Mean That They Are Entitled to Less of a Life Than We Are”

It’s easy to see how a large portion of our population could feel left out of things. According to the CDC, approximately 1 in 4 people in the United States is living with a disability, and, of those, nearly 14% have serious mobility issues and nearly 11% have serious cognition issues. Many of the buddies that participate in I Run 4 are children, and Boyle has seen how these children’s disabilities can affect – and even isolate – families. According to Boyle, “families of children with special needs tend to feel like they’re trapped in a cocoon, even family members tend to separate themselves, parents feel trapped like they’re in a tiny little shell. I Run 4 helps families feel like there’s people out there that care, that’s what makes it so successful.”

And I Run 4 has been just that – extremely successful. More than 500 people joined in the first month, and more than 15,000 in the first year. At its peak, it boasted around 45,000 people and today its membership hovers around 39,000. According to Boyle, the only reason for the drop in membership is that they simply couldn’t keep up with the demands to find buddies.

When asked how he finds so many people that want to be a part of I Run 4, Boyle said the whole process has been “organic. We’ve built up relationships with people, and it’s spread like wildfire.” As for pairing up the participants, he said that runners and buddies are randomly matched on purpose, so that people can step outside of their bubbles, and they are discouraged from bringing up their politics or religion – “We need to view others as people, not who they support,” Boyle explained. His whole worldview seems to be based on seeing people as whole beings, not just the sum of their parts.

Ultimately for Boyle, creating the group was “about fighting for inclusion. Just because someone has been given a diagnosis or doesn’t have the same brain function, doesn’t mean they are entitled to less of a life than we are.” He wants people to see beyond diagnoses and differences, and he wants to bridge divides and create meaningful relationships.

“The Catalyst”

I Run 4 has become more than Tim Boyle could have imagined. In fact, he seems slightly in awe of it. “It’s pretty surreal to be the catalyst for bringing these people together,” he said, and spoke of runners and buddies from around the world not only sending each other daily or weekly updates on each others’ lives, but also traveling across the globe just to meet up. One runner was randomly matched with a buddy with kidney failure, and was later found to be a donor match for her buddy; as of about a year ago, she was scheduled to donate her kidney to her buddy.

But Boyle wanted to emphasize that he knows he couldn’t do all of this alone. He still posts about once a week in the group, but he has stepped back from matchmaking in order to let others “get that amazing feeling.” He has a team of volunteers that he specifically wanted to mention, because, according to him, “they work their butts off, and the organization wouldn’t be anywhere without them.”

And Boyle and Wasserman’s relationship? They’re still in contact as often as they can be, and although Boyle is on a hiatus from running, he now plays softball and even mows his lawn “for Michael.” Boyle said he has been lucky enough to meet up with Wasserman in person twice. “It was surreal,” said Boyle, “it was kind of like meeting my Batman.”

How You Can Help

The runners who participate in I Run 4 do not run to raise money; in fact, there is no fundraising allowed. All Tim Boyle wants runners to raise is awareness, and they do this in all sorts of ways when they run, from wearing DIY “I Run 4” shirts and hats to sporting tattoos of their buddies. I Run 4 does, however, accept donations on their website; you can also head there to sign up to be a runner or a buddy. In addition, in honor of Michael, who participated in the Special Olympics as a child, you might want to consider getting involved in that worthwhile organization. There are also numerous organizations that support families and people with disabilities, including The Arc, Easter Seals, and Parents Helping Parents.

How Do We Change the Culture of Violence? Put Mothers in Charge

When tragedy strikes, we are often faced with two choices. We can give up, or we can emerge stronger. In some cases, like that of Dr. Dorothy Johnson-Speight, founder of the Philadelphia-based organization Mothers in Charge, having something terrible happen to us can lead us to do great things. For Dr. Johnson-Speight, an unthinkable personal tragedy has led to nearly 20 years of work advocating for young people, families, and communities affected by violence.

“I Decided I Was Going to Live”

caucasian hands holding a revolver. — *Dorothy lost her 24-year-old son to gun violence.*

Johnson-Speight, a licensed family therapist, has gone through every mother’s nightmare – twice. She lost her two-year-old daughter to bacterial meningitis, and then, almost 15 years later to the day, she lost her 24-year-old son to gun violence. Khaaliq Jabbar Johnson was killed in 2001, in a dispute over a parking space. This senseless tragedy could have destroyed Johnson-Speight; in fact, according to her, “I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive, but then I decided that I was not going to let the man who killed my son claim my life too.”

A mother’s grief is a powerful thing, and Johnson-Speight’s grief spurred her to action. When asked when it was that she decided to start her organization, Mothers in Charge, her answer was “When I decided I was going to live.” Johnson-Speight did more than just pick up and carry on, however; she took what she describes as her anger and pain and directed it towards easing other mothers’ pain, as well as towards trying to change the culture of violence that we see all too often in our country.

“A Mother’s Pain Is a Mother’s Pain”

Mothers in Charge, founded along with other grieving mothers, is based in Philadelphia, but its goals are relevant to many American cities, and chapters have been popping up all around the country. This grassroots organization’s main mission has evolved over the years. It was started more as a support network for grieving mothers, but it is now focused mainly on preventing violence through education. According to its website, MiC “engages in proactive intervention with children, young adults, families, and community organizations…[and its] mission is realized through collaborative partnerships with the school districts, youth and faith-based and community organizations, and government agencies, while providing grief support to families affected by violence.”

barbed razor wire over a building — *Mothers In Charge has most recently, job training and other programs for incarcerated and formerly incarcerated women.*

While Mothers in Charge will always be an organization rooted in dealing with grief, its work has branched out into violence prevention programs, youth mentoring, education on defendants’ rights, and, most recently, job training and other programs for incarcerated and formerly incarcerated women. Johnson-Speight has moved from focusing on one side of the debate – the victims’ side – to seeing both sides, because, ultimately, the only way to prevent grief (and not just end up comforting victims) is to prevent violence and change the system.

“We’re losing on both sides,” said Johnson-Speight. “Somehow we’ve got to find a way that the mothers on both sides begin to work together and stand up to the violence that’s in our communities, because no one’s winning. We’re losing them to incarceration or the cemetery — because both are death.”

“The pain for me is the worst pain in the world. To have to bury my son and never see him again while I live on the face of the earth,” she said. “But I also understand the pain of a mother whose son is incarcerated for the rest of his life….a mother’s pain is a mother’s pain.”

“A Catalyst”

The work Mothers in Charge is doing is worthwhile, to say the least. Johnson-Speight, who herself was almost crushed by anger and pain, now sees the anger and pain of the people she works with. Much of the work her organization does focuses on young people, many of them incarcerated or heading in that direction, and whom she sees as having no readily available coping mechanisms for their feelings.

group of teens smiling and working together — *Youth violence prevention programs reduced violent behavior among young adults by at least 29%.*

Working with juvenile offenders, she has developed techniques to “address the development of pro-social and proper decision making skills, violence prevention and preparation for re-entry back into their communities.” In other words, Johnson-Speight and her organization are stepping in where many have already given up, and are using their positions and experience as grieving mothers to make a real difference.

These types of violence prevention programs are even recognized by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention as a way to deal with what they consider a public health crisis. In a review of 53 studies, the CDC found that youth violence prevention programs reduced violent behavior among young adults by at least 29%. Johnson-Speight has seen the human faces behind these statistics. According to her, “Mothers in Charge has been a catalyst for getting people to look at the issue of violence in a way that they didn’t before. We have brought attention to the issue through our rallies, workshops, teaching, etc. We have educated a community to think that violence is not a norm and you must get involved to make a change.”

Recognition

Dorothy Johnson-Speight and Mothers in Charge have not gone unnoticed. They have held well-attended conferences and rallies, and there are chapters of MiC all over the country. Dr. Johnson-Speight has won multiple awards and been given numerous honors, such as selection by the Philadelphia Tribune as one of Philadelphia’s Most Influential African American Leaders, the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Director of Community Service Award, the School District of Philadelphia Humanitarian Award; she was also named Philadelphia Citizen of the Year by the Philadelphia Inquirer. She has also earned appointments by Philadelphia Mayor Elect Jim Kenney to serve as a member of his transition team and by former Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter as Board Trustee to the Philadelphia Prison System.

Mothers in Charge is not stopping anytime soon. When asked about the successes of her organization, Johnson-Speight said, “A group of courageous women could have laid down to die but decided to get out and make a difference due to a trauma and give a voice to the sons and daughters they lost. Our women networked and reached out continuously to other organizations, schools, and leaders in the community. We would speak out about alternatives to violence to anybody and everybody.”

How You Can Help

If you’d like to help Mothers in Charge in their mission to comfort the grieving and stop the epidemic of violence in our country, you can volunteer with the organization. Fill out their form on their website here. For other ideas of how to help, we’ll leave you with Dorothy Johnson-Speight’s own words:

“Any amount of time can make a difference. People can do little things like volunteer to tutor at a school or help someone learn to read. Aiding in someone’s academic success will decrease their chances in becoming involved in violence. They can still join an organization because even if you only have two hours a week you can be a listening ear. Being a comfort to someone going through a loss is a huge help within itself. If everyone did something small we would see a difference in our communities.”

Conbody: Change Your Body, Shape Their Future

Those of us who are suckers for a crazy, sweaty workout know the meaning of motivation. So do those of us who have ever been moved to support a worthy cause or work in some way for social justice. It’s that sense of taking one small step (or burpee!) towards being better than the day before. That’s what seems to drive Coss Marte, founder of Conbody, which offers “prison-style” workouts in a Manhattan studio as well as online. Most of his adult life has been about that dedication to improvement: he went from changing his own body while in prison to helping other inmates do the same. From there he went on to change his whole life by building a business that breaks down barriers and gives others the chance to turn their lives around.

“I Wasn’t Going to Die in There”

You could say Conbody – and Coss Marte’s journey to where he is today – all started with a diagnosis from a prison doctor.

When I spoke with Marte, he hinted that he wasn’t exactly the picture of health in his youth. He spent his time drinking and smoking, and was overweight with skyrocketing cholesterol and blood pressure. But that wasn’t the only risky business he was involved in. He was arrested for the first time at the age of 13 for a minor drug offense, which led him down the all too familiar path of kids who grow up struggling with poverty and lack of opportunity. He spent the next 10 years in and out of prison, and by the age of 19, he was something of a drug kingpin in his neighborhood. It all came to an end when he was arrested for the last time in 2009 at the age of 23.

Marte was sentenced to 12 years in prison, which was later reduced to 7 years. When he entered prison, the doctor gave him a clear warning: because he was so overweight, and his cholesterol and blood pressure were so high, he was likely to suffer a fatal heart attack within 5 years. When he heard that, his mind raced to the 7 years he had been sentenced to. “I wasn’t going to die in there,” he said.

“We Didn’t Think Anything of It”

The doctor who had warned Marte told him to try and get some exercise and that’s what he did; after all, he had an infant son to think about. Marte started small, by walking the prison yard, but he eventually developed a whole bodyweight fitness routine and ended up shedding 70 pounds in 6 months. His routine – and his results – caught the eyes of other inmates, and he offered to train them, as well. He says that he helped his fellow inmates lose a collective (and impressive!) 1,000 pounds.

*Marte decided to accelerate his plans to start his own fitness-related business.*

While in prison, Marte says he thought of his fitness “classes” as just a “camaraderie builder,” not the seed for a successful business. “We didn’t think anything of it,” he said, “I didn’t think I was going to come up with a business.” But when an altercation with a prison guard landed him in solitary confinement, Marte had a lot of time alone with his thoughts. He thought about how he wanted to change his life, and how he wanted to continue helping people. “And that’s when Conbody was born,” he said.

After serving 4 years of his sentence, Marte was released from prison a changed man. He was fitter, healthier, and determined to stay out of prison. But opportunities for formerly incarcerated people can be few and far between. It’s no wonder that many end up back in prison: a study done in 2018 found that the unemployment rate among former inmates was 27% (approximately 1,350,000 people) compared with 4% for that of the general population at the time.

Since he couldn’t find a job, Marte decided to accelerate his plans to start his own fitness-related business. He started offering personal training sessions and doing his intense routine in parks and in the streets. He was relentless about getting his name out there. He says he did everything from making announcements on NYC subway cars to flagging down runners in the street and handing them his card. Through his amazing dedication and hard work, he eventually saved enough money to rent a studio and get Conbody off the ground.

“It Was Numbing”

As his business started taking off, Marte decided that he would hire only formerly incarcerated people to lead his classes. He had seen first-hand the revolving door of the U.S. prison system, and, while he had found a sense of camaraderie in prison through his fitness classes, he also said that seeing the same people return to prison over and over again was depressing. “It was all a bit numbing,” he said, “guys would go out and come in again within weeks. I saw one guy in there who I’d been in juvie with. It was sad.” He knew that giving someone an opportunity would mean the difference between them reoffending and changing their lives.

Marte also had first-hand experience of how hard it is to land on your feet when you get out of prison. What puts many on what has been called the “poverty path” of formerly incarcerated people is the discrimination they face and their inability to get a job because of it. In fact, only 55% of formerly incarcerated people report earnings in their first year after release, and those who are employed have a median annual income of only $10,000, according to the Brookings Institution.

And there’s generally no help to be had unless you have a family to fall back on. “You’re released with $40 and a bus ticket,” said Marte. “You’re hungry once you do a long period of time! The first thing you’re going to do is enjoy a meal…so you spend $20 at McDonald’s, then where do you go? You have to deal with that.”

*The people who attend his classes are primarily young, professional women, who he believes are looking for businesses with more behind them than just a profit motive.*

So now Marte gets tons of “jail mail” and requests to be involved with Conbody: “Finding employees is the easy part!” according to Marte. He’s now given jobs to dozens of former inmates. He vets them and gives them a 2-month paid internship, starting them off with janitorial or front desk work while they get their certification. He partners with nonprofits to help them with housing, f

ood, and clothes if they need it. And the recidivism rate of his employees? Zero. Yes, in a country that regularly sees recidivism rates of 40-64%, Marte has seen none of the people he has helped return to prison. If that isn’t an argument for expanding opportunities for – and overcoming discrimation against – formerly incarcerated people, then what is?

“We Are Fighting, We Are Breaking that Cycle”

When asked if he sees himself as more than a business owner – as a community leader – Marte humbly replied, “I see myself as somebody who’s gonna put my head down and work and I get a lot of respect just for that. I just try to help anybody who wants help and is willing to work for it.” But what he’s doing goes beyond just helping one former inmate at a time, as important as that is. His business is successful because he is building a unique community, and breaking down barriers between people.

The people who attend his classes are primarily young, professional women, who he believes are looking for businesses with more behind them than just a profit motive. “People really want to get back to a business with a positive social impact,” he said. “They’re scared of meeting someone that was in prison, they’ve neer met one before, but they see they’re just human beings, and this person had struggles, that’s why they ended up where they did. Breaking down barriers is part of our mission statement – it’s very special.” He brings together two very different groups of people, who end up learning from each other.

“People are opening their eyes, they are seeing that black and brown people have been hugely impacted through the criminal justice system. Once [someone is] arrested we need to figure out that person’s story, they need to be understood and heard. We are headed in the right direction, but a lot of work needs to be done.”

How You Can Help

Marte’s new step forward is a job training program called Second Chance Studio that will teach former inmates to be more “tech savvy” so they can work in industries such as media production. While he has been working on this project for about a year, Marte recognizes that it is needed now more than ever: many formerly incarcerated people are manual laborers, and those positions have been drying up since the recent pandemic. If you’d like to help get this project off the ground, visit its kickstarter page here. You can also check out some of the nonprofits that Conbody partners with, such as Thrive for Life, Reform Alliance, Fortune Society, and Housing Works. And, of course, don’t forget to check out the workouts themselves! If you’re in NYC, you can attend a live class, or if you’re further afield, you can buy on-demand classes or even take part in live streaming classes! Coss Marte guarantees that these bodyweight-only workouts will be the hardest of your life. And he knows a thing or two about tough.