Johnathon Briggs – Youth Guidance

The Shoes Are Just the Beginning

September 11, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Weeks into a new school year, 500 Chicago students are walking the halls in sneakers they received at Back 2 School Kicks—an annual tradition that is growing from a shoe giveaway into something bigger.

The music filled the indoor track at Gately Stadium, a percussive beat from a DJ spinning near the center of an afternoon that felt as much like a neighborhood celebration as a back-to-school giveaway.

Children raced on the rubber track and took running starts toward the long-jump pit. Basketballs bounced across the stadium’s infield, where young people shot hoops alongside officers from the Chicago Police Department’s 5th District. Outside a side door, a line formed at an ice cream truck.

And in another corner, former NBA player Alando Tucker was on his hands and knees, judging a boys-versus-girls plank competition. Twenty dollars—and bragging rights—were on the line.

But amid all the activity on this Saturday in August, some of the most important moments were quieter ones: a child opening a box, pulling back the tissue paper and seeing a new pair of sneakers inside.

For 10-year-old Devin, a fifth grader at Spencer Elementary School where he participates in Youth Guidance’s Community & Afterschool Programs, they were white Nike Air Force 1s.

His mother, Tamika Carrington, had brought Devin and his two siblings from Chicago’s West Side after hearing about Back 2 School Kicks through their school. It was their first time attending.

School started Monday.

That timing was the point.

Two days before Chicago Public Schools students returned to their classrooms, approximately 500 young people and their families gathered Aug. 22 at Gately Stadium in the West Pullman community for the fifth annual Back 2 School Kicks Chicago, a collaboration among The Athlete’s Foot, the Community Retail Association, Youth Guidance, the Refugee Life Foundation, the Arcitec Foundation, and the Arab-American Business and Professional Association.

Students receiving shoes walked away with the kinds of sneakers children notice in school hallways: Nike Dunks. Air Force 1s. Jordan 1s.

That distinction matters to Ash Darwish.

“When they go to school, we want them to feel good about themselves,” he said.

“When they go to school, we want them to feel good about themselves.” — Ash Darwish

Why the Shoes Matter

Darwish owns six The Athlete’s Foot franchises in the Chicago area and has first-hand insight into what shoes can mean to a child.

Growing up in an immigrant family without much money, Darwish attended Proviso West High School. His family couldn’t afford the sneakers some of his classmates wore. Instead, he remembers wearing ProWings from Payless ShoeSource.

Other kids noticed.

“They used to tease me all the time and make fun of my shoes,” Darwish recalled.

That memory helps explain why organizers deliberately choose shoes young people actually want to wear. The giveaway is intended to offer something less tangible along with the footwear: confidence and dignity.

For Tucker, the story is strikingly similar.

Before playing basketball at the University of Wisconsin and reaching the NBA, Tucker grew up in a single-parent household, the middle of five children. He remembers getting into a fight at age 10 because other children made fun of his shoes.

“I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do,” Tucker recalled.

(Top left to bottom): Kids showing off new swag; Organizers and Chicago Police Department (CPD) 5th District posing with Mr. Dad’s Father’s Club; CPD engaging youth; Alando Tucker hyping up a dance battle at Back 2 School Kicks.

Long before Tucker became a professional basketball player, he was also Darwish’s customer, coming into his shoe store to buy sneakers. Years later, their conversations turned toward what they could do together for children growing up with some of the same pressures they remembered.

Tucker supported Back 2 School Kicks from its earliest days, initially as what he calls a “silent partner.” After the first year, he saw an opportunity to make the effort bigger.

This year, Tucker’s Arcitec Foundation joined as a partner. The foundation uses lessons from sports—resilience, discipline, communication and teamwork—to help young people imagine and build their futures.

Tucker describes it through the metaphor of an architect: Everyone starts with an empty blueprint. The work is about helping young people build the foundation, skills and relationships to fill it in.

The goal isn’t necessarily to produce another professional athlete. It is to help a young person discover what else might be possible.

“You want to be a lawyer, doctor, we have access to that,” Tucker said. “It’s access that’s the key.”

Ash Darwish (right) with event organizers and volunteers.

More Than a Giveaway

Back 2 School Kicks began during the disruption of the pandemic, when organizers saw families struggling and wondered what local businesses and community organizations could do together.

The first event served roughly 100 young people. The next grew to about 250. Then came 300.

This year: 500.

As the event expanded, so did the coalition behind it.

The Athlete’s Foot supplies the sneakers. The Community Retail Association mobilizes businesses and helps provide food. Youth Guidance helps connect the effort to students and families, particularly through schools and communities where the resources can make the greatest difference. Other community partners have joined along the way.

At Gately, young people weren’t simply ushered through a line and sent home with a box.

They stayed. They raced. They ate. They played basketball with police officers. They lined up for ice cream.

For Tucker, even the presence of police officers was part of the purpose. Young people may primarily encounter law enforcement through the lens of enforcement, he said. Playing basketball together creates a different kind of interaction and another way to see one another as members of the same community.

A new pair of sneakers will not eliminate the challenges facing a family or determine whether a child succeeds in school. But Tucker and Darwish know what it feels like to be the child hoping no one notices his shoes. Sometimes removing one worry can make it a little easier to walk through the schoolhouse door.

“You might meet your BAM counselor, your WOW counselor,” Tucker said. “You can actually have that confidence to engage with your education.”

“You want to be a lawyer, doctor, we have access to that. It’s access that’s the key.”
— Alando Tucker

The Next Step

Five years into the effort, the organizers are asking another question: What happens after the sneakers?

This year brought the launch of the Kick Forward Scholarship, extending an initiative built around school readiness into one that can help students continue their education after high school.

Through a partnership with City Colleges of Chicago, five students will receive $1,000 scholarships toward their community college education. The scholarship effort received initial support from the National Basketball Retired Players Association’s Legends of Basketball.

The decision to focus on City Colleges is deliberate. For some young people, Tucker said, the right path after high school may not begin at a four-year university. Community college can be a bridge to a degree, career or eventually a four-year institution.

“It’s really the access and exposure to different pathways,” Tucker said. “You may not know that’s a pathway. Let’s expose you to it.”

That philosophy is familiar to Youth Guidance.

Across its programs, Youth Guidance works with young people in schools and communities to help them navigate obstacles, build meaningful relationships with caring adults and see possibilities for their futures. At Back 2 School Kicks, that work starts with something concrete: helping children arrive at school feeling ready to walk through the door.

For Carrington, the practical value was just as real. She had come from the West Side with three children after Spencer Elementary shared information about the event. Along with the shoes, her family found food, basketball, track activities and an afternoon they could enjoy together.

And Devin had his Air Force 1s.

Across Gately Stadium, hundreds of other children carried their own boxes.

By afternoon’s end, 500 pairs of new sneakers would leave the building with 500 Chicago students.

On Monday morning, those shoes would appear somewhere else: on sidewalks and buses, in school hallways and classrooms across the city.

For the adults who had spent months bringing the event together, that journey was precisely the idea.

The shoes were never supposed to be the destination.

They were meant to help a young person take the next step.

Other community partners for Back 2 School Kicks included the What’s Your Forté Foundation, Family Focus, Think Outside Da Block, Project Impact 180, ChiGivesBack, Inc., and CHAMPS Male Mentoring, among others.

Johnathon Briggs, a former Chicago Tribune staff writer, is the director of marketing and communications at Youth Guidance.

Photos courtesy of Rush Photography and Video Productions

Career Readiness and Success

“You Belong in Every Room You Enter”: Graduates Take Next Step

August 20, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Project Prepare Blue helps young adults ages 18–24 move toward employment, education and other postsecondary goals.

“What do we want to get?”

“Money!” the graduates shouted back.

“When do we want to get it?”

“Now!”

That call-and-response brought plenty of laughter to the auditorium at Crane Medical Preparatory High School on a recent Friday morning. But underneath it was something more serious: 22 young adults taking another step toward building the futures they envision for themselves.

They were dubbed the “Unique 22.” And after a summer spent learning, working and growing through Youth Guidance’s Project Prepare Blue, they had plenty to celebrate.

Before the graduates entered the auditorium, Theonita Wright, senior coordinator of Alumni Engagement at Youth Guidance, described three principles the program seeks to instill: discipline, creativity and recognizing your own value.

Then the doors opened.

As each graduate walked in, Wright greeted them with a different handshake—each one personalized to the young person standing in front of her. It was a small gesture carrying a larger message: I see you. I know you. You matter.

That sense of belonging is central to Youth Guidance’s Alumni Engagement initiative, which continues supporting young people after high school as they navigate the transition into adulthood. Project Prepare Blue is part of that work, helping young adults ages 18–24 move toward employment, education and other postsecondary goals.

Kendall Smith, 19, delivers motivational graduation speech

“Never ever stop believing in yourself.” — Kendall Smith

Beyond the Résumé

But the support extends beyond preparing a résumé or learning how to navigate the workplace. Participants also had access to free counseling services when they needed additional support to keep moving forward during the program.

The goal is not simply to help young adults get an opportunity. It is to surround them with the resources and relationships that can help them make the most of it.

For Dakota Smith, the impact of that experience unfolded twice this summer.

Her daughter, Kendall Smith, 19, was chosen as the class speaker. Known within the cohort as the “Artist,” Kendall spent her internship at Parent Cooperative for Early Learning. Her mother says the nickname fits: Kendall has drawn and painted since she was a little girl.

Standing at the podium with her mother in the audience, Kendall challenged her fellow graduates to keep moving forward.

“Community is an important ingredient to success,” she told them. “Never ever stop believing in yourself.”

And then: “You are never too old or young to achieve your dreams, so keep dreaming.”

The words seemed almost made for the room. Hanging nearby was a banner declaring Crane a place “where HOPE begins and DREAMS come true.”

*Wright (left) and postsecondary success coach Cortasha Thomas (right) present Jaylen Gardner with his completion certificate.*

Dakota also watched her son, Kendell Smith, experience something entirely new: his first job.

Kendell spent the summer working at Hamilton Park through the Chicago Park District. His mother noticed the difference almost immediately.

“I didn’t have to wake him up. I didn’t have to do anything,” Dakota recalled. “He got himself to work. If he was going to be late, he contacted his supervisors himself. He took the initiative to do those things on his own.”

For Dakota, that is what makes experiences like Project Prepare Blue so valuable.

Young adults need opportunities to learn “what it’s like to be out in the work field,” she said—to develop professional communication, consistency, responsibility and the ability to build relationships with others.

“How else are you going to know until you have the experience?”

More Than A Name

Throughout the ceremony, Wright and post-secondary success coach Cortasha Thomas called graduates to the stage, where Alumni Engagement senior manager Michele Artunduaga snapped their picture. But rather than simply reading their names and internship placements, they told the audience something about who each young person had shown themselves to be: Thoughtful. Creative. Accountable. A leader. A great listener. Success-driven. Motivated.

The ceremony ended with certificates and gift backpacks, but the morning wasn’t quite over.

Upstairs, the graduates presented posters mapping out their next two years, a combination of vision board and career roadmap. Their plans mixed ambition with practicality: Save money. Stay fit. Find a better job. Buy a car. Keep building toward something bigger.

It was a fitting conclusion for a program designed not simply to help young adults find work, but to ensure that Youth Guidance alumni continue to have people in their corner as they take their next steps—whether that means coaching, professional development, connections to opportunity or simply someone to turn to when the path gets difficult.

Before sending the Unique 22 forward, Wright left them with one more reminder, one she had reinforced throughout their time together: “You belong in every room you enter.”

On that Friday morning, a fresh cohort of Project Prepare Blue graduates walked across a stage.

Now comes the bigger journey: walking confidently into all the rooms that come next.

Career Readiness and Success

44 Fellows. 700 College Acceptances. One Extraordinary Journey.

June 12, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

The graduating class of The Fellowship Initiative in Chicago earned $28.5 million in scholarships and financial aid while building an enduring bond of brotherhood.

Beneath the chandeliers of the Paul Robeson Theater on Chicago’s South Side, the future arrived wearing suits, tassels, and nervous smiles.

More than 200 people packed into the historic theater inside the South Shore Cultural Center on the Saturday of Mother’s Day weekend. Families gathered around clothed tables — mothers clutching purses, fathers adjusting ties, younger siblings fidgeting in padded banquet chairs. Outside, Lake Michigan shimmered under the spring sun. Inside, 44 fellows prepared to cross a graduation stage carrying the weight of their ambitions.

Together, the 2026 graduating class of The Fellowship Initiative (TFI) had earned more than 700 college acceptances and $28.5 million in scholarships and financial aid.

One was headed to Harvard University to study neuroscience. Another would attend Washington University in St. Louis on a full ride. Three had earned coveted Posse Scholarships to Oberlin, Dickinson, and Middlebury Colleges. One planned to study fashion design. Another, civil engineering. And another — a young father who crossed the stage carrying his one-year-old son in his arms — planned to study plumbing.

The moment felt bigger than a graduation ceremony. It felt like a collective exhale.

Unlike a traditional school ceremony, this graduation only happens once every three years — marking the culmination of a demanding, multi-year commitment that began when most of the TFI Fellows were sophomores still trying to figure out who they wanted to become.

For many families, the ceremony represented years of sacrifice, long commutes, financial stress, neighborhood violence, illness, loss, and the uncertainty that shadows so many families trying to help their children reach adulthood safely.

Jesus Manzano and Mussa Mrisho show off their TFI certificates.

“TFI has opened doors we would have never seen if he had not gotten into this program.” — Eric Gabriel

Every Saturday

For three years, these fellows — most from low-income households and more than half first-generation college students — spent Saturdays each month commuting across Chicago for TFI, a college access and leadership program launched by JPMorganChase and implemented locally by Youth Guidance that supports youth who face systemic barriers to economic opportunity from all backgrounds.

While participants could have chosen to spend their Saturdays sleeping in, working jobs, or hanging out with friends, these fellows boarded buses and “L” trains to spend hours in workshops on leadership, professionalism, public speaking, financial literacy, college access, and networking. Each fellow was paired with a mentor from JPMorganChase.

Luis Morales-Lopez rode the Blue Line from the North Side to downtown meetings at Chase Tower, where the cohort originally gathered before temporarily relocating this year to the Illinois Institute of Technology during renovations. His mother, Ruby Trejo Lopez, often worked weekends and couldn’t always drive him.

“He always made it there,” she said. “I never had to wake him up. I never had to remind him. TFI really showed me how the program motivates these young men toward independence, confidence in their own thinking, and ultimately becoming responsible men.”

Luis, the oldest of her children, will attend Dickinson College in Pennsylvania as a Posse Scholar — farther from home than anyone in the family has ever gone.

Patricia Peña snaps a photo of her son, Gabriel, before the graduation ceremony.

Cultivating Excellence

Above the entrance to the South Shore theater hangs a plaque bearing the name Paul Robeson, the legendary actor, athlete, activist, and singer who lived from 1898 to 1976 — a period spanning several significant civil and social moments in the United States. Robeson spent his life challenging America to imagine a fuller version of democracy, one where Black brilliance was not feared or diminished, but cultivated.

On this Saturday, that vision felt alive inside the theater, where families with roots stretching from the American South to Mexico, Nigeria, India, and across the African and Latin diasporas gathered to celebrate the next generation stepping into its future.

At a time when so many conversations about young men focus on crisis, the ceremony offered a counternarrative rooted in discipline, community, and possibility.

Ayomide “Ayo” Olatunji sat near the front before the ceremony began, waiting for his family to arrive. Soft-spoken and reflective, the EPIC Academy senior said he once imagined attending the University of Chicago. Instead, he’ll head east this fall to Harvard University on a full scholarship, where he plans to study neuroscience.

“I think sophomore year, I was more reserved,” Ayo said before the ceremony. “I was ambitious, but I stayed to myself.”

TFI, he said, changed that.

“It helped me step out and build meaningful relationships,” he said. “That’s been the greatest part.”

“This program has always been about more than college. It’s about…expanding your sense of what’s possible.”
— Kourtney Cockrell

Ayo still talks regularly with his JPMorganChase mentor, Melissa, and with Ju’Juan Day, a TFI program specialist at Youth Guidance whom students affectionately called “Unc.”

“Perseverance is key,” Ayo said, reflecting on what the program taught him. “And networking. That’s very emphasized in TFI.”

Around him, families streamed into the theater.

Gabriel Peña’s mother, Patricia, remembered first hearing about TFI years earlier from a teacher whose own son had completed the program.

“When they start, they’re so young,” she said. “The young men who start the program aren’t the same young men who finish.”

Her son, Gabriel, earned a full-tuition Posse Scholarship to Oberlin College, where he plans to study communications.

“TFI has opened doors we would have never seen if he had not gotten into this program,” said Gabriel’s dad, Eric. “I’m just grateful. I’m thankful. It really does take a village.”

Jovani Gonzalez and his mother outside of the Paul Robeson Theater.

What’s Possible

In his keynote remarks, Pastor David Williams joked about interviewing one student for the 2026 cohort who conducted the entire interview holding a sausage link in his hand.

“You know what kind of confidence you gotta have to interview with a sausage link in your hand?” Williams said, causing the room to erupt in laughter.

But beneath the humor was something deeper.

“You came in baby-faced,” Williams told the graduates. “Now y’all got facial hair. Changed up your style and everything. But we saw the brilliance in you from the beginning.”

The ceremony moved between celebration, testimony, grief, and joy — sometimes within the span of a single speech.

Kourtney Cockrell, Vice President and Regional Director of Global Philanthropy and Corporate Responsibility at JPMorganChase, addressed the students from the stage.

“Each person here represents someone who has poured into you,” Cockrell said, reflecting on the families, mentors, and staff who supported the fellows throughout their journey. A first-generation college graduate herself, she told the students she understood what it meant to carry not only their own dreams, but the hopes of their families as well.

“I’ve seen you grow from young boys into young men,” she said. “This program has always been about more than college. It’s about experience, brotherhood, leadership, and expanding your sense of what’s possible.”

Michelle Morrison, CEO of Youth Guidance, reminded the TFI graduates that success would not always come in a straight line.

“You have already proven that you know how to persevere,” Morrison told them. “You’ve solved problems, overcome setbacks, and leaned on your community for support. Those are the exact skills that will carry you through whatever comes next.”

Will Irvin, Youth Guidance’s Director of Career Readiness & Postsecondary Success.

Tribute to Travon

Then the ceremony shifted to honor Travon Freeman, a 17-year-old EPIC Academy honor roll student and TFI Fellow who was killed in a shooting just a block from his school last fall.

Travon, who had plans to run for student council president, was remembered throughout the ceremony not only as a gifted student, but as a joyful, magnetic presence whose absence left a profound void in the lives of classmates, mentors, and friends.

Will Irvin, Youth Guidance’s Director of Career Readiness & Postsecondary Success, spoke during a tribute to Travon.

“It’s not right that there’s an empty chair here today,” Irvin told the room. “It’s not right that we are missing a friend as his classmates cross this graduation stage.”

Irvin then reflected on losing one of his own close friend, Frankie, to gun violence while he was in college.

“I’ve thought many times about how similar Frankie and Travon were,” he said. “They were both the kind of people who could walk into a room and light it up. And Travon, even at a young age, understood one of life’s greatest joys: being there for other people.”

Travon’s mother, Rosetta Coger, later addressed the audience herself, thanking the TFI families for their empathy and support.

“I read all the sympathy cards. They made me laugh, they made me cry,” she said. “You made me a firm believer in the saying that, “When one mother hurts, we all hurt. When one momma cry, we call cry. I appreciate you all for that.”

The ceremony paid tribute to Travon Freeman, a TFI Fellow.

A Family Affair

But grief never fully overtook the afternoon. The ceremony insisted on hope.

Christopher Lewis spoke about watching his son Ahmir persevere through his mother’s breast cancer diagnosis while growing from a shy teenager into a confident young man willing to “bet on himself” by pursuing music composition instead of computer science.

Another parent, Abby Adasiak, reflected on raising children on Chicago’s South Side, where young people sometimes learn too early to distinguish fireworks from gunshots.

“Society often looks at our Fellows,” she said, “and labels them before they even get a chance.”

Then she turned toward the TFI staff seated nearby — Will Irvin, Ju’Juan Day, Chikamso Odume, Cristian Romero, and Danny Vazquez — the mentors, coaches, and program leaders who had spent the last three years guiding the Fellows.

“Your dedication, commitment, and unconditional support does not go unnoticed,” she told them.

Again and again throughout the afternoon, the ceremony returned to the same idea: no one arrives alone.

As the ceremony closed, each Fellow learned he would receive a laptop for college — a graduation gift for the next chapter ahead. The announcement detonated across the room like fireworks.

Ayomide Olatunji and Gabriel Peña mingle with their TFI brothers.

Lasting Bonds

Afterward, graduates zigzagged across the theater to pose for celebratory photos with friends, mentors, and family members. Others spilled into the afternoon light along the lakefront, gathering beneath flowering trees and near the stone terraces of the cultural center for more photos. Mothers adjusted graduation tassels. Fathers wrapped sons in hugs that lingered a little longer than usual.

Among them was Darius Townsel, the graduate who crossed the stage carrying his one-year-old son, Kayden, as his mother, Katherine, and father, Demetrius, cheered him on.

Darius had been part of Youth Guidance’s Becoming A Man (BAM) program since middle school. He commuted from the West Side using public transportation to attend TFI sessions every Saturday.

“God protects me all the time,” he said of his weekend journeys on Chicago public transit.

Now 18, he plans to study plumbing at Kennedy-King College. He said becoming a father changed everything.

“Every time I see him,” Darius said of his son, “it’s motivation.”

Around him, fellows lingered long after the ceremony ended, taking photos, exchanging hugs and grips, promising to stay in touch.

Three years earlier, many had entered the program as strangers.

They left as brothers.

Johnathon Briggs, a former Chicago Tribune staff writer, is the director of marketing and communications at Youth Guidance.

Photos courtesy of K-Benson Studio.

Partnerships

What the Horses Taught Them

May 19, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Students in Youth Guidance’s BAM and WOW programs visited Rodeo for Lives in Crete, Ill. to learn about horses, history, and resilience.

CRETE, Ill. — The gravel road announced their arrival before the ranch did, slowing the bus, shifting the rhythm, letting the students know they were somewhere different before they could see it.

Sixteen teenagers from Noble Baker College Prep—hoodies pulled tight against a steady April rain—stepped off a yellow school bus and into a large wood barn far removed from the South Side of Chicago. There were no sirens here. No crowded hallways. Just the low rustle of wind over green open fields, the soft stomp of hooves, and the occasional huff of a horse—an exhale that, as they would soon learn, meant more than it sounded.

Inside, they were greeted not just by horses, but by a rodeo family.

There was Robert Hughes, a retired N.F.L. fullback turned full-time cowboy. Beside him stood his wife, Marissa, and his mother, Blanche, along with longtime family friends Mike Latting and his sister, Tracy, and rising steer wrestler Hunter Wylie—all helping welcome students to the Hughes family ranch, 30 miles south of the city. The ranch is home to Rodeo for Lives, a nonprofit dedicated to introducing young people—especially those from urban communities—to rodeo and equine therapy.

The trip itself was the result of careful coordination back in Chicago. BAM counselor Andrei Heward-Mills and WOW counselor Desiree Sheppard organized the visit, working together to create an experience that extended learning beyond the classroom into something lived.

Inside the barn, surrounded by horses with names like Chocolate Chip, Gumbo and Apache, Tracy Latting gathered the students close.

“Animals talk,” she told them. “If you listen.”

Tracy, an equine massage therapist, was there alongside her brother, Mike, a lifelong rodeo rider. The Latting family’s roots in rodeo run deep: Mike graduated from the University of Southern Colorado in Pueblo on a rodeo scholarship and went on to become the International Professional Rodeo Association’s Central Rocky Mountain Regional champion in both bareback bronc and bull riding. He later built a career with his father, Thyrl, producing rodeo events across the country—bringing the sport to county fairs, festivals, and arenas throughout the Midwest and beyond.

“I come from the horses,” Robert told the students. “That’s my happy place.”

For many of the students, all participants in Youth Guidance’s Becoming A Man (BAM) and Working on Womanhood (WOW) programs, it was their first time meeting real-life cowboys and cowgirls, and their first time this close to a horse. Some had never seen one outside of television. Now they were being asked not just to look, but to notice: the rhythm of breath, the language of movement, and the discipline required to care for an animal.

Outside, rain tapped steadily against the barn roof. Inside, barn cats scurried through the hay and around the horse stalls.

A Cowboy’s Second Act

The ranch belongs to Robert, a former N.F.L. player who once suited up for the Chicago Bears, Indianapolis Colts, and Arizona Cardinals. But long before the stadium lights and packed crowds, he knew a different arena.

“I come from the horses,” he told the students. “That’s my happy place.”

Raised on Chicago’s West Side, Robert grew up straddling two worlds: football and rodeo. The latter, he says, shaped him just as much as the former: the discipline, the patience, the mental toughness required to get thrown off and climb back on anyway.

That legacy was built at home. Blanche remembers it clearly—horses boarded outside the city, weekends spent riding, learning, competing.

“We just took our kids out,” she said, referring to herself and her husband. “From babies, this is what we did.”

After a six-year professional football career, Robert returned to that first love, a passion he now shares with his three children. In 2019, he founded Rodeo for Lives, guided by a simple motto: Transforming Lives One Rodeo at a Time.

“You don’t know what you don’t know,” Robert said. “So we bring it to you.”

On a rainy Monday in April, that mission unfolded in real time, inside a barn filled with BAM and WOW students.

Learning the Language of Horses

The lessons began with the basics: how to approach a horse without startling it. Why you never walk behind one. How to clean a hoof—a careful, almost surgical act involving a metal pick and steady hands.

Tracy Latting demonstrated, lifting a horse’s leg and pointing to a triangular section underneath.

“This is the frog,” she said. “It’s like the life source. Every step pumps blood through the body.”

The students leaned in.

A few students got a chance to braid the tail of Tracy’s horse, Sunny. Others took turns brushing her coat. Some simply stood nearby, watching, absorbing.

For Shayla Hampton, 17, a junior in the WOW program who aspires to become a psychologist and own a ranch of her own one day, the connection came quickly.

“It’s kind of like therapy,” she said after mounting a horse and taking a slow circle inside the barn. “If you’re out there by yourself, you can think. You don’t always have to talk it out.”

She paused, then added: “The horse can feel how you feel.”

Roping, Rain, and Possibility

In the center of the barn, a bale of hay fitted with a metal cow head served as a stand-in for a calf. Under the guidance of Mike Latting, students took turns learning to rope cattle—awkward at first, then with growing confidence.

Somto Azubuike, 17, a BAM participant, landed a loop and broke into a grin.

“It was amazing,” he said. “First time doing it.”

He had come to Rodeo for Lives hoping to ride, but the weather had other plans. Still, the day delivered something else: exposure.

They learned that horses need new shoes every eight weeks. That grooming is not cosmetic but essential. That care requires attention, and attention requires patience.

Somto wants to be a pediatrician. Horses aren’t part of that path. But that wasn’t the point.

“Doing it,” he said, “just trying something new, that’s what made it good.”

A Legacy, Carried Forward

Rodeo, like many American traditions, carries a complicated and often overlooked history. Mike Latting made sure to name it.

Black, Latino, and Indigenous cowboys, he explained, have long been part of the sport’s foundation. He told the students about figures like Bill Pickett, a Black cowboy who pioneered steer wrestling in the early 20th century with his “bite-‘em down” technique, where he would leap from his horse, grab a steer by the horns, and bite its upper lip to force it to the ground. Their stories, often erased, still live in the techniques and traditions practiced today.

For Robert, an accomplished steer wrestler, his thick arms and thighs evidence of the work, the sport is also deeply personal.

On one of his horses rested a striking saddle—ornate, polished, distinct from the others. It’s in honor of his older brother, Earl “Tony” Hughes, a fellow cowboy and football player whose life was cut short in Chicago at just 24. While Robert was still a rising star at Notre Dame, he received the news in 2007 that Tony had been shot and killed, an act of violence that was never fully explained.

“Everything that I stand for today was because of my brother,” Hughes told the Chicago Tribune at the time. “He pushed me. He taught me everything I know.”

The loss still lingers. The saddle remains not just as a memorial, but as a reminder: of where he comes from, of who shaped him, and of the resilience he now tries to pass on.

Grief, like rodeo, is something you learn to carry.

“You’ve got to be able to handle adversity,” Robert told the students. “Being out here with the horses taught me that.”

The Work Beneath the Surface

By the end of the visit, the rain had not let up. But something else had shifted.

Mike Latting watched the students gather their things, with a perspective shaped by a lifetime in the saddle.

“I hope they understand,” he said, “there’s nothing they can’t accomplish. But nobody’s going to give it to you. You’ve got to work your butt off. Don’t ever quit.”

In other words: keep buckin’.

Blanche, reflecting on decades of watching her family and now a new generation around horses, put it more simply: “If you have the love, you’ll take care of it.”

It was a message that echoed the core values many of the students already practice in BAM and WOW: integrity, accountability, self-awareness, determination.

Different setting. Same lesson.

Out here in Crete, those values were not discussed in a BAM or WOW circle, the school-day group sessions where students sit together and reflect, they were lived. In the careful way a student approached a horse. In the patience it took to try, miss, and try again. In the pride that came from learning the history—and carrying forward the legacy—of those who came before them.

The Ride Back

As the students boarded the bus for the trip back to Chicago, their shoes a bit muddy, the ranch receded into the gray distance.

Some talked about the horses. Others about the roping. A few scrolled through photos on their phones—digital memories to match the real ones.

Not every student would return to a ranch. Not all would ride again.

But for a few hours on a rainy April day, they stepped into a different rhythm. One that asked them to slow down. To listen. To pay attention.

And maybe, as Tracy Latting had said at the start, to hear something speaking back.

This field trip was made possible by the Vivo Foundation, which funds the BAM and WOW programs at Noble Baker College Prep, and support from the Michigan State University Rodeo Club.

Career Readiness and Success

Becoming Us: “I finally realized I wasn’t alone.”

March 9, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

“I’ve become the version of myself I always dreamed of being.
I compliment people more. I express myself freely—through my voice,
my style, and how I show up in the world.”

— Kailee Roman

This post is part of Becoming Us, a new storytelling series from Youth Guidance that honors the voices of our alumni. Through their own words, we explore what it means to grow, to heal, and to become.

Kailee Roman, an alumna of Youth Guidance’s Working on Womanhood (WOW) program, came of age during a moment when the world felt disconnected and uncertain. Emerging from the isolation of the pandemic into high school, she struggled with insecurity, social anxiety, and the pressure to meet unrealistic beauty standards—especially as a Latina searching for representation that reflected her worth.

In WOW, Kailee discovered something she hadn’t expected: a space where vulnerability was welcomed, individuality was celebrated, and sisterhood replaced comparison. Today, she reflects on how WOW helped her redefine beauty, build healthier relationships, and grow into the confident version of herself she once only imagined.

Here, in her own words, Kailee shares her journey of becoming.

Who I Was

Before I joined WOW, I was transitioning from being inside all the time during the pandemic to suddenly socializing again in what everyone calls “the most important moment of your life”—high school. But it was nothing like the movies. Everyone was worried about how they looked or how they were perceived. We forgot how to just be human. Our masks even hid our emotions, and we all felt distant from each other.

At the same time, I was going through a bad breakup. The media I consumed kept telling me I needed makeup, straighter hair, or a different body to be wanted. I started spiraling, thinking about how I could change myself to fit the beauty standard. I felt extremely insecure and hated my body.

Growing up, I rarely saw Latinas represented positively. We were described as too loud, too hairy, too much. I wanted to fit in so badly that I began changing myself to match what I thought people wanted.

I also had severe social anxiety. I constantly wondered what people thought about me—what they were saying behind my back or whether I was enough. I was always questioning myself.

The WOW Experience

I remember my first WOW session clearly because my childhood best friend was there with me, which helped ease my anxiety. Our counselor read statements aloud and asked us to stand if we related to them. At first, the statements felt simple. But then she said: “I don’t feel confident in myself or my body.”

Everyone stood up.

There was silence for a moment—and then we all laughed. Not because it was funny, but because we finally realized we weren’t alone.

Growing up, I had strong women role models, especially my mom. She taught me to speak my mind, be kind, and be strong. But I misunderstood strength. I never saw her show sadness, so I thought being a woman meant hiding negative emotions.

WOW changed that for me. I learned that womanhood means feeling everything—sadness, anger, happiness, love. I started expressing myself first through journaling, then eventually out loud. For the first time, I felt heard.

One session I’ll never forget was called Barbie Beauty Standards. We wrote insecurities and beauty expectations onto a Barbie poster. I was terrified to be honest, but I wrote everything I disliked about myself—my curly hair, my body, my height, almost everything.

When our counselor read the responses aloud, something shifted. Traits someone hated about themselves were things someone else found beautiful. I realized our differences were not flaws—they were what made us unique. We only have one body, and it deserves love.

WOW also helped me understand healthy relationships. I realized I had spent so much time changing myself to please others—staying quiet, following people’s expectations, even ignoring my own needs or safety. As I grew more confident, I began changing my style and expressing myself more, but some people wanted me to stay the old version of me.

That’s when I realized those relationships weren’t healthy—and I chose to walk away.

Who I Am Now

Today, I carry WOW with me every day.

I remind myself that I am unique and that I’ve become the version of myself I always dreamed of being. I compliment people more. I express myself freely—through my voice, my style, and how I show up in the world.

I’ve learned that embarrassment is small compared to living fully. I know my emotions are valid, and I understand that the right people—your soulmate, your real community—will treat you with the respect you deserve.

Whenever I start doubting myself, I go back and read my old journals. They remind me how far I’ve come.

If a young woman were about to walk into her first WOW session feeling like I once did, I would tell her: “It only gets better from here.“

About Becoming Us

Becoming Us is a storytelling project by Youth Guidance that honors the voices of our alumni—those who have walked through our programs and emerged with hard-won lessons, growth, and resilience. Inspired by Humans of New York, each story celebrates the power of support, self-awareness, and community.

This project was co-created by Stacay Woods, a former marketing and communications intern with Youth Guidance’s Project Prepare Blue.

Career Readiness and Success

Becoming Us: “BAM made me believe I could be something.”

February 23, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

“BAM gave us permission to pour our hearts out and hold each

other up. I started showing empathy toward others, and

toward myself. That was new.”

— Daniel Methene

This post is part of Becoming Us, a storytelling series from Youth Guidance that honors the voices of our alumni. Through their own words, we explore what it means to grow, to heal, and to become.

Before he found the words to name his pain Daniel Methene carried everything inside. Growing up on Chicago’s South Side, he learned early how violence, loss, and addiction could harden you before you ever had a chance to be soft. In this Becoming Us story, Daniel reflects on how BAM helped him open up, build brotherhood, and believe in a future beyond survival—and how those same lessons now guide him as a father and a Becoming A Man (BAM) counselor, walking alongside young men who were once like him.

Carrying It All Inside

“Before BAM, I didn’t talk much. I was quiet, angry, and didn’t know how to express what I was feeling. I grew up on the East Side of Chicago in South Shore, raised mostly by my grandmother. My dad was around, but he worked a lot—so it was me, my granny, and my sister. I saw a lot growing up. Violence. Friends getting killed. Family members battling addiction. My uncles overdosing. I remember ambulances coming, Narcan being administered, my grandmother praying over them. That stuff numbed me early. I carried it all inside.

When I first joined BAM in 2013, I was a freshman at Julian High School. At first, I thought it was just a way to get out of class. We’d heard there was good food and field trips. That’s what got my attention. But once I got into the sessions and saw how real our counselors were with us, especially Derek and later Troy, I started realizing this was something different.”

Daniel Methene (right) at one his favorite occasions: a graduation ceremony.

“BAM taught me how to check in with myself. At first, my check-ins were surface level: ‘I’m good,’ ‘I’m fine.’ But over time, as I started to feel safe in the space, I opened up more. We built a brotherhood in our group. It didn’t matter where you came from—we all had something we were going through. BAM gave us permission to pour our hearts out and hold each other up. I started showing empathy toward others, and toward myself. That was new.

I’ll never forget one session where I talked about watching my uncles struggle with addiction—seeing them almost die. When I started to share, I broke down. Before I could even finish, the whole group came around me and hugged me. These were other young men, my peers, showing me love, passing me tissues, telling me I was not alone. That moment changed me. It was the first time I felt like I could be vulnerable and not be judged.”

Expanding Horizons

“BAM also gave me something I hadn’t experienced before: the chance to leave my neighborhood. My first time leaving the city was on a BAM college tour in 2017. It opened my eyes. Different accents, different food, different ways of life—it showed me there was more out there. That I could have more, too. Just being in a place where I felt safe… that alone was powerful. Even going downtown or to a Bulls game was a big deal back then. BAM made that possible.

The values I learned in BAM are still with me. Back then, the two that stuck with me most were accountability and self-determination. I used to give up on myself a lot. But BAM made me believe I could be something, do something. Today, as a father to twin daughters, Respect for Womanhood is the one I hold closest. Watching my partner give birth changed me. I want to raise my girls in a world where men show up with empathy and respect.

Now, I’m a BAM counselor. I’ve been doing this work for three years. What inspired me? Giving back. Helping young people the way I was helped. When I meet a student who’s walking into BAM for the first time, I tell him: “It’s OK to be scared. It’s OK not to know. But if you open your heart, if you let yourself grow here, you won’t regret it. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

That’s what BAM did for me. It helped me feel, speak, and believe in myself again. And now, I get to help others do the same.”

Daniel Methene (left) with BAM students at a Chicago Bulls game.

About Becoming Us

This project was co-created by Stacay Woods, a former marketing and communications intern with Youth Guidance’s Project Prepare Blue.

More Than Graduation: A Lesson in Manhood

January 8, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Middle school is when the pressure begins. Boys are expected to act tough, stay quiet, hold it all in, and figure things out on their own. Vulnerability is labeled as weakness. Struggling is mistaken for not caring. By the time eighth grade hits, many boys have already internalized the message that their feelings do not matter and only performance does.

That kind of pressure breaks a lot of students. For Damian, it nearly cost him everything. He wasn’t a loud student or causing problems, but by the end of the school year he fell behind quietly. The kind of falling behind that is easy to miss until it is too late. When his name showed up on the “do not graduate” list, it wasn’t because of bad behavior or disruption. He had simply stopped believing he could catch up, but he was not alone.

Damian was a participant in Becoming a Man (BAM), Youth Guidance’s group counseling and mentoring program for young men. Through weekly circles, BAM gives students space to reflect, manage emotions, build healthy relationships, and set goals for their future. In BAM, students are reminded that being a man is not about suppressing feelings or pretending to have everything figured out. It is about how they respond when life gets hard.

When Jesus, his BAM counselor, learned Damian was at risk of not graduating, he did not criticize him. He asked him a question. “You talk about leadership. You talk about accountability. Are you ready to live it?” Damian was ready and ready to prove it!

He began pulling all-nighters to finish his assignments. He stayed home and skipped his eighth-grade dance to catch up. While his fellow classmates were out celebrating, Damian was fighting for a second chance at the future he thought he had lost. Even without knowing whether his efforts would be enough, Damian kept doing his work. With his counselor’s support, he stayed focused and pushed through the assignments he had fallen behind on. As graduation approached, he still had not been cleared to walk, but he volunteered to help prepare for the ceremony.

He set up chairs, tested microphones, and supported classmates who had already secured their place on stage. It was a quiet act of leadership, integrity, and accountability. These were the same values he had been learning and practicing in BAM throughout the school year. That kind of commitment is hard to ignore. His teachers noticed. His principal noticed, and Jesus never stopped advocating for him. Two days before graduation, Damian got the news that he would not only walk with his classmates but serve as the master of ceremonies!

He went from being nearly left behind to standing at the podium, leading his class into the next chapter, and the story does not end there. BAM did not only help Damian graduate. It helped him rebuild belief in himself. It taught him how to reflect under pressure, how to recover after falling behind, and how to lead even when the outcome was uncertain. These are not just eighth-grade lessons. These are lifelong skills.

As Damian enters high school, whether or not BAM is available at his next school, he now carries something permanent. He knows how to respond when life becomes difficult. He knows how to ask for help, take ownership, and make choices that align with who he wants to become. This is what BAM provides: space to be human, tools to grow, and mentorship that remains consistent through life’s hardest moments. BAM does not rescue students. It restores their power and helps them become men with support and mentorship.

BAM: Breaking Cycles, One Choice at a Time

January 8, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Jacob was only seven years old when his mother drove him to a gang meeting. His older siblings were already affiliated. There was no defining moment, just a quiet understanding that this was his path too.

In many neighborhoods across Los Angeles, gang culture isn’t something young people choose. It is something they inherit. For Latino youth in particular, it can feel like a family tradition. Passed down through generations, it often becomes the only source of identity, protection, and belonging when support systems are lacking.

By middle school, Jacob had already seen more than most kids his age. When he joined Becoming a Man (BAM) at Bunche Middle School, something shifted. BAM didn’t try to fix him. It offered him space to reflect. For the first time, he was asked who he wanted to become, not who he had been told to be. That question opened the door to a life-changing decision.

With encouragement from his BAM counselor, Jesus, Jacob chose to leave the gang. He got jumped out. The consequences were immediate. “I don’t have any friends anymore,” he told Jesus.

“Everyone I knew was from the gang.”

Jacob was left completely alone. No one at home encouraged him to go to school. Still, he rode the train across the city everyday. Many times, he showed up only for BAM. It was the one space where he felt seen, valued, and emotionally safe.

Where gang life once gave him brotherhood, BAM offered something stronger. He found trust, accountability, and a place where healing could begin. Healing, however, does not happen in a day.

Jacob still carried the weight of fear. The risk of retaliation lingered. He felt unsure of where he belonged. Jesus and the school principal noticed this, and they stepped in. Together, they created a modified school schedule so Jacob could move through the building safely and stay engaged in his education.

That support made a difference. Jacob began to attend more regularly. He joined the basketball stat crew to feel connected again. He started to believe there was a place for him outside of the life he was raised in.

Then came a setback. Jacob was involved in a physical altercation and was expelled. He is now waiting on a district hearing to determine whether he can return to Bunche Middle School. He doesn’t want to start over, but he does want to continue his journey with BAM.

Jacob’s story is still unfolding. When a young person has spent a lifetime being shaped by survival, those instincts do not disappear in a year. It takes time to unlearn. It takes consistent support, and people who refuse to walk away when things get hard. The fact that Jacob is still showing up, still asking to be in BAM, and still wanting something different says everything about his potential.

BAM exists for young men like Jacob. For those who may not have had stable mentors, emotional safety, or space to reflect, BAM offers that structure. It helps build the foundation for a different future, one decision at a time.

Jacob is still young. His story can still be shaped by the presence of positive adults and environments that believe in him. We will continue to show up, continue to advocate, and continue to be in his corner as he finds his way forward because building brighter futures for students comes with rainy days too.

BAM LA: Grief, Growth, and the Power of Showing Up

January 8, 2026By Johnathon Briggs

Middle school is a challenging time for many young people. From hormonal shifts to middle school drama, students are trying to figure out who they are while keeping up with grades and sports. It’s truly a pivotal time in a student’s life, and for students like Makai, these everyday pressures were layered with deeper emotional struggles too.

At Bunch Middle School in Los Angeles, Makai stood out for his potential, even if he hadn’t yet fully stepped into it yet. He struggled with emotional regulation and had a hard time staying calm in group settings, including the classroom. He originally expressed interest in joining Becoming a Man (BAM), a school-based program that helps young men build emotional resilience and develop core values like respect and accountability. However, during sixth and seventh grade, his counselor, Jesus Cisneros, made the difficult decision to hold off. Group circles require emotional safety, consistency, and the ability to respect others. At the time, Makai wasn’t ready.

Still, Jesus never stopped supporting him. They met one-on-one regularly. By the time Makai reached eighth grade, something changed. He approached Jesus and said, “I want to do BAM this year. I want to graduate.” From that point on, he stayed committed. He turned in assignments, kept his grades up to remain eligible for basketball, and became an engaged BAM student who looked forward to group circles each week.

Unfortunately, just a few weeks into the semester, Makai collapsed during basketball practice. He was rushed to the hospital, where he later passed away. The loss stunned the entire school.

The following morning, BAM counselors from across Los Angeles rushed to Bunch Middle School to support students and staff. They organized a grief circle to help the school process what had happened. More than 25 students participated, including several who were not enrolled in BAM. Some cried. Some stayed silent. Others shared stories. One student said, “I’m sad, but I can’t cry.” Another said, “At least we can laugh at the memories.” The BAM counselors created a safe space for the tragedy that students and staff witnessed and the loss they now had to live with.

Oftentimes, it is hard for us to realize how much what happens outside the classroom shows up inside it. Family stress, personal loss, and emotional trauma don’t stop when the bell rings. That includes the grief of losing a peer. Programs like BAM help students navigate these experiences and offer a consistent space to feel safe, supported, and heard.

Although Makai’s time in BAM was brief, it was meaningful. He had just begun to see himself differently. He was making progress and learning how to lead with responsibility and purpose. His story is a reminder of what is possible when students are given the structure, mentorship, and support they need to grow.

At Youth Guidance, we are committed to supporting students like Makai across Los Angeles. Through BAM, we continue helping young men navigate life’s challenges, build resilience, and create school communities where no one has to face hardship alone.

Partnerships

Finding Their Frequency: BAM Los Angeles Hands Students the Podcast Mic

December 11, 2025By Johnathon Briggs

“We wanted to showcase what BAM actually is. The honesty, the laughter, the realness of those circles, but through a platform the students already connect with.”

— Raymond Byrdsong, BAM Senior Youth Specialist

LOS ANGELES — On a quiet Saturday morning in January, when most high schoolers might still be asleep, five teenagers filed into a podcast studio in Culver City. They slipped on oversized headphones, leaned into the microphones, and exhaled. The red recording light blinked on.

They called themselves The Starting Five.

Over ten weeks, these young men — all participants in Youth Guidance Los Angeles’ Becoming a Man (BAM) program — would transform The Network Studios into something like a second classroom, one without desks or tests, but full of light, laughter, and self-discovery. Together, they would launch Youth Voices Amplified, a new podcast that reimagines what it means to listen to and learn from young men of color growing up in Los Angeles.

The idea came from Raymond Byrdsong, a senior youth specialist with BAM, and Kenyon Ates, founder and CEO of The New Sound Initiative, a nonprofit of The Network Studios that teaches middle and high schoolers real-world skills through podcast production. The two met through the Los Angeles Unified School District’s Black Student Achievement Plan at Westchester High School nearly two years ago and began dreaming about how to capture the emotional power of BAM’s school-based circles — where young men meet weekly to talk about anger, accountability, and identity — in a new medium.

“Anything that God blesses me with, I’m always thinking about how I can give back,” said Ates, a digital media and marketing professional who was exposed to creative storytelling at an early age. “Because I believe that’s what we’re here for—to serve each other.”

“We wanted to showcase what BAM actually is,” Byrdsong said. “The honesty, the laughter, the realness of those circles, but through a platform the students already connect with.”

A podcast made sense. His students were already fluent in TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. “Why not use a medium they’re already comfortable with?” Byrdsong said. “A student newspaper would’ve been boring. I wanted something vibrant, visual, alive.”

Recruiting The Starting Five

Out of more than 20 applicants across BAM’s eight Los Angeles schools, Byrdsong and Ates selected five: Kieshawn Brown, Corie “CJ” Byrd, Danari Golden, Kadumu “KJ” Griffin, and Bryenn Pryor-White — all students at Westchester Enriched Sciences Magnets.

It was, Byrdsong admits, “almost like a job interview.” Each candidate had to prove they’d show up — literally. One, KJ, took three buses each Saturday to make the 9 a.m. call time. Another showed up on his birthday.

“I thought, no way are high school boys giving up their Saturday mornings,” Byrdsong said. “But they did every single week. They said, ‘If Mr. B is doing this, we’re there.’”

The ten-week program, from January 20 to March 29, 2025, met from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. every Saturday. The sessions were part classroom, part creative lab. Students learned lighting, sound mixing, mic technique, and editing — and, more importantly, how to translate BAM’s six core values into stories that felt personal.

**Graphics in mind:** Kadumu “KJ” Griffin, The Starting Five’s artist and visual designer, created the graphics for the podcast’s title card and two episodes, including Boss Up and Visionary Goal Setting.

The Sound of Growth

The first few sessions were quiet. “Once those lights came on, they froze,” Byrdsong said, laughing. But within weeks, confidence replaced caution.

“By the end, they were butterflies,” he said. “Talking, laughing, creating. They owned that space.”

Each student chose a core value to explore: Integrity, Accountability, Self-Determination, Positive Anger Expression, Respect for Womanhood, and Visionary Goal Setting. Byrdsong resisted assigning them; he wanted the connection to be genuine.

Bryenn Pryor-White, who has long channeled emotion through music, gravitated toward Positive Anger Expression.

“I’ve built up anger for a long time,” he said. “I find it inspiring to put my anger into a craft I like. It takes my mind off it.”

His episode opened with the hum of a beat he produced himself.

KJ, the group’s artist and visual designer, created the graphics for the podcast’s title card and two episodes, including Boss Up and Visionary Goal Setting. “He’d work on them after the sessions or late into the night,” Byrdsong said. “That was his superpower.”

And Kieshawn Brown, the gregarious student who had initially stumbled over his words in front of the camera, later conducted one of the season’s standout interviews — a conversation on Respect for Womanhood featuring psychologist Dr. Asia Goodall and poet Monique Mitchell.

“To see a 17-year-old interview a 33-year-old doctor was mind-blowing,” Byrdsong said. “That episode gave me goosebumps.”

The pilot season’s opening episode, Boss Up, captured the chemistry of the group — part podcast, part BAM circle, facilitated by Byrdsong. The students joked, debated, and reflected on what it means to “boss up” in life: to lead, to grow, to show integrity even when no one’s watching.

“It felt like we were back in the classroom, just talking — but this time, the world could hear it,” Byrdsong said.

Beyond the mics, the project built deeper trust and new skills. “They left with more than podcasting knowledge,” he explained. “They left with self-awareness — with the ability to walk into a space and use their voice.”

A Model for Expansion

As the season wrapped, Youth Voices Amplified became more than a creative experiment — it became a model. The partnership with The New Sound Initiative remains entirely pro bono, sustained by shared purpose and an agreement between the studio and Youth Guidance Los Angeles.

“Kenyon loves what BAM represents,” Byrdsong said. “He wanted to give back, to make space for young men to talk, vent, and be themselves.”

Now Byrdsong is gearing up for second and third seasons of the podcast. He and Kenyon have chosen 19 students out of 27 who interviewed for a spot, drawing a new crop of budding podcasters from Westchester High. He envisions new pairings — two students per episode — and new topics that link pop culture, sports, or relationships back to BAM’s values.

**Pass the mic:** The latest cohort from Westchester High School holds up their acceptance letters, officially joining the *Youth Voices Amplified* podcast. Season Two will run January 24 through March 21, 2026.

“If Season One was about finding their voices, Season Two will be about using them,” he said. “I want middle schoolers involved, maybe even students from other cities. Imagine BAM Chicago and BAM LA on the same episode.”

He’s also exploring ways to expand the podcast’s reach — from YouTube to Apple Podcasts and Spotify — and to attract funding to sustain future cohorts. “When funders ask, ‘What is BAM?’ this is something they can see and hear for themselves,” he said.

The Echo Beyond the Studio

For the students, the lessons reached far beyond production. “It helped me find calm and confidence,” said Bryenn. “It’s not just about BAM values. It’s about what I value.”

And for Byrdsong, who has spent more than a decade in youth development, the project reaffirmed why he chose this work.

“Proud is an understatement,” he said. “To see my boys grow, to see their joy — that’s everything. A year ago, this was just an idea. Now it’s real.”

Listen to Season One of Youth Voices Amplified on YouTube, and hear how BAM students turn values into voice. Follow the podcast on Instagram to stay connected with the students behind the mic and get updates on Season Two, which will run from January 24 through March 21, 2026. A third season is planned for April 14 through June 7, 2026.

Author Archives: Johnathon Briggs

Why the Shoes Matter

More Than a Giveaway

The Next Step

Beyond the Résumé

More Than A Name

Every Saturday

Cultivating Excellence

What’s Possible

Tribute to Travon

A Family Affair

Lasting Bonds

A Cowboy’s Second Act

Learning the Language of Horses

Roping, Rain, and Possibility

A Legacy, Carried Forward

The Work Beneath the Surface

The Ride Back

About Becoming Us

About Becoming Us

Recruiting The Starting Five

The Sound of Growth

A Model for Expansion

The Echo Beyond the Studio

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