by: Trevor Stokes
This is a story about Julio Corpeno. It’s a story about drive, commitment and integrity. Julio and his family came to Canada from El Salvador. They didn’t have much but they were a proud family – they believed in each other, respected each other and believed people were innately good.
Julio Corpeno is as East-Van as it comes. In no way is that being used pergoratively. He is as proud of where he’s from as anyone could be. Born, raised and still roaming Commercial Drive – Julio is a fixture in our community, be it at the Trojan Boxing Club at the Santa Barbara market or at Café Calabria.
I met Julio (Jay from now on) at the end of his grade 9 year. He was in a traditional high school and things weren’t working out. He found the framework of high school uninspiring. He started skipping classes or being so unmotivated that he let the work slide by – he was in need of a change. I remember meeting his sister. She was a really strong advocate for her little brother. She didn’t want Jay to stray too far from the safe bounds of the family.
Taking Jay in was easy. He was a very polite but reserved kid. He wasn’t a behavioural problem like so many of the other Streetfront kids, rather he was withdrawing from life. He and the family agreed to give us a shot and come September, Jay was in our class.
Jay was part of the second class I ever taught at Streetfront. He was a classmate and best friends with Matthew Martins, the boy I wrote about who was murdered at 16. Streetfront back then was just starting to come into the program I hoped it to be. That year would have us complete our 1st full marathon (Mauricio Garcia – he came back last year to run his 5th marathon with us, 16 years after his first) and the Street2Peak Project would be more than decade away. I was trying to find my way as a teacher and Jay was doing the same as a student. I don’t think I had the biggest impact on Jay. I was close to him and we were tight but nothing really profound. Jay liked the physical stuff but was really into video games, art and mountain biking. I liked the mountain biking but didn’t have a lot to offer on the other two. Jay’s year at Streetfront was pretty uneventful – not that Jay was a forgettable kid, not a chance but rather, he kept things pretty close. Jay was struggling to find his passion but you could tell once he found the drive, he’d be off. He was a strong writer with an evocative mind. He finished his grade 10 year and decided to go to Spectrum, a senior alternative program based out of Vancouver Technical.
At Spectrum, he really enjoyed a creative writing class. They were studying a play and something clicked. He started to wonder what it would be like to be the actors performing these works. He started to envision what that dangerous and frightening world would be like. He started talking to his teacher and he suggested that if he really wanted to explore this, he should transfer to Templeton Secondary and enroll in their vaunted drama program, Theatre Temp.
I’d like to think I helped Jay reach his potential but I know that’s not the truth. Jay found what he needed at Templeton. Jay found wonderful, inspiring teachers who challenged him on a daily basis. He was placed in a space where creativity and vulnerability had to coexist. At Streetfront, he was shy, reserved, head a little bowed. Once he got into the theatre, everything changed. He became a man. He acted in 4 major plays and countless smaller, ensemble bits. He did stagecraft and direction. They traveled the country, performing and receiving adulation wherever they went. The kid who sat back, a little slumped in his chair at Streetfront was now clamouring for the spotlight. A metamorphosis had taken place. He was off.
Jay had such a successful grade 12 year that he was the recipient of a Templeton Foundation scholarship (this relationship will be fostered and tended to for years) – he would have any post-secondary program paid for in full. Now the Templeton folks hoped he would continue theatre but Jay had other plans. He always loved cars (again his East Van colours shining through) and wanted to be an auto mechanic, so he enrolled in Vancouver Community College’s (VCC) Auto Mechanic Service Technician Program.
The kid I knew at Streetfront was now long gone. He was hyper-focused. He dedicated his life to auto mechanics. He was their top student with a 92% average and won a scholarship. Jay wasn’t content with this. He always liked auto painting and refinishing and now wanted to enroll in VCC’s 1-year program. He went back to the Templeton Foundation and asked if they would sponsor his second post-secondary program. They agreed without hesitation. Jay excelled in this program as well, graduating with a 91% average. He quickly got a job and started doing what he thought he always wanted. But in such Jay fashion, that mind of his started to look at this career path a little more critically. Jay started to recognize how damaging the chemicals, fumes and other products were for his health. Within a year, Jay had the foresight to recognize that no job, how much he liked it, was worth his health.
Now while all this car stuff was going on, Jay had always had a part-time job working at a restaurant on Commercial Drive. He had been working in the kitchen there since grade 11, heading out to his shifts after his VCC schooling or after his auto-painting job. He started to really appreciate the creativity and skill needed to excel in the kitchen. He left the mom and pop restaurant for a larger and more sophisticated kitchen. While there, the ever-curious Jay, received Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. This book regaled in the carnal, salacious and insanely stressful world of fine dining. Jay loved it. He made a pledge to seek out the best chefs in the city and use their kitchen’s to develop his skills.
Soon he was working at the Fish House in Stanley Park under the tutelage of renowned Chef, Karen Barnaby. Next, he moved on to Chambar and worked under Chef, Niko Schuerman. Jay suffered mightily with the stress and anxiety of working in a demanding kitchen but loved the rush and the expertise needed to create memorable dishes. Jay then moved on to Ensemble, owned and operated by one of Canada’s premier Chefs, Dale MacKay. Again, he threw himself into the maelstrom of a throbbing kitchen.
Now just like with the cars, Jay came to a precipice in terms of careers. Part of him loved the insanity of the kitchen but part of him knew the toll it was it taking on his health. To add to this, at the height of his cooking journey, he never made more than $14 an hour. Like Jay had always done, he took the time to understand where he was and where he wanted to be. He’s always been prudent in those matters. As he tells it, he was at New Brighton Park, trying to divine some sort of inspiration into what was next, when a video game from his childhood popped into his head. Video games had always been a big part of his life and as he ruminated about his future, he wondered about designing video games. Could I do that?
As Jay is wont to do, he went home and started researching. He literally spent day and night figuring out what skills he needed. He started religiously watching YouTube tutorials on 3d animation. He studied and built 3d models using an open source program called Blender. He started connecting with other like-minded artists, working collaboratively to increase his skills. While he was doing this, he was working as a plumber’s apprentice during the day, working in kitchen’s at night and then hammering back the espresso’s to keep honing his animation skills into the next morning. He sold his precious collection of mountain bikes (all 4 of them) and after 2 years had saved enough to pay for half of the tuition for the 3d animation program at the venerable Vancouver Film School. The other half of the tuition came from a familiar source. The Templeton Foundation, which had paid for his auto mechanic and then paint and auto finishing programs 10 years earlier, agreed to sponsor Jay’s latest vocational pursuit. Jay built up his 3d portfolio and submitted it for their inspection. They were very impressed and accepted Jay into the program.
The next year proved to be the most challenging, rewarding and transformational in Jay’s life. He lived at the VFS Gastown studio. He was putting in 90 to 100 hour weeks. He immersed himself in the program like no other student. The 3d animation program basically comes down to the term project – the demo reel. This is the make or break part of the course. You will be judged almost entirely on this one 30 to 60 second piece of animated art. Jay put everything he had into it. He drew from his first love of cars, from the esthetics of fine dining, from the showmanship of theatre. His demo reel would be Jay Corpeno. It would represent what he believed in. To say it’s beautiful is not enough. It is staggering. When I first watched it, I’m not sure if I’ve ever been more proud of a former student. It was sublime.
Jay graduated as one of the top students in the class. His demo reel was used on the invitation to their graduation. His demo reel was on the VFS homepage as an example to prospective students of what they could accomplish. He now speaks on panels as a distinguished alum and recently came back to Streetfront to show the 2017 crop of Jay Corpeno’s what he had accomplished.
The kids couldn’t talk as he went through his presentation. Their eyes were stuck on the screen; searching for something they couldn’t find -imperfections or incongruences in the images. The images were so real they seemed imagined. When the lights came on and eventually Jay left, a student came up to me and asked if he could see Jay’s demo reel again. I played it for him and he walked right up to the screen with his eyes, mere inches from the screen. He shook his head and walked away. Recently, I’ve caught him at the computer looking at the demo reel weeks after Jay’s presentation. He told me it makes him happy to see a Streetfront kid make something so beautiful. He’s really glad Jay made it. So am I.
I’d like to introduce you to Julio Corpeno, an East Van original.
Please check out his demo reel. You need to turn up the volume. This is art. This is love. Remember, all of this is animated. All of it.
You can also check out Julio’s website at:
by: Trevor Stokes
Introducing Matthew Martins
Matt would be 28 now. He’d be at home on a Sunday, with his kids. Playing PS4 in the basement. They’d be within an arm’s reach. He’d be behind them on the couch with the two boys on the floor in front of him. They’d be playing Mario Kart. His hand would be tracing circles on their backs, tugging through their Sunday hair, gripping their shoulders as the game progressed. His turn would come up and he’d decline, giving the younger one a chance to avenge his early exit. Matt’s smiling like only he could. Life is good. It’s as it should be or should’ve been.
I met Matt in the September of his grade 9 year. He had come to Streetfront after attending the John Oliver Bridge Program. I used to go with Bill McMillan, the original counselor at Streetfront, to this program and do a slideshow, showing the prospective students what we could offer. Matt was in the audience that May. He liked what he saw, asked a lot of questions (a lot) and the family decided to give us a shot.
He came into a wonderful class, filled with personalities, characters and challenges. I still keep in contact with many of those kids (funny how they are still kids, though they’re 29 or 30 years old) and am so happy that many of them are still close friends. Matt assumed a spot right beside my teaching desk. It’s interesting how certain kids end up in that spot – sometimes it’s intentional (behaviour management; blind as a bat and no glasses; small enough so others can see the board over them; socially awkward kid who needs to be away from alpha personalities), but often it’s entirely selfish on my part – I really like the kid and want to be entertained. If you’ve done this job for as long as I have, you need to take your gifts when you can get them and putting Matt Martins within arm’s reach, was a gift, let me tell you.
That levity saved me. It helped me see what was important with these kids. It provided the clarity my teaching was lacking. I learned from Matt that if I could make the kids laugh and giggle every class, that each class was worthwhile, it had something tangible. We wouldn’t ignore the curriculum but we would enhance the experience. If you ask my students what I do well in class, I hope they’d say that I make learning fun. I hope they remember the smiles and laughs we had. If they do I did my job well, and I guess Matt did his, too.
He was directly to my teaching right. I can see his constantly moving body, arching and swaying as he got through my class. Never one to sit idle, he was pure liquid, gravitating towards the most comfortable position. As constant as his motion, one thing that moved even more was his mouth. He always had a comment. Always had a question. Always had a wisecrack. Always had something for me. He filled the gaps and silences, like no kid I ever taught. What was different with Matt though, was the nature of his comments. It was pure jackass. Always kidding, always fooling. Never mean. Never going after a weak target. Sure it got too much at times, but I couldn’t stop going back to him. We became an unwitting tag-team. If the class needed a boost or some sort of misdirection, I’d go to Matt. I’d look at him and he’d do the work. He would know what we needed and like Karl Malone, he always delivered. Once I recognized how much fun we could have in class, my decision to stay was made.
I can see Matt now, running around playing indoor soccer, trying desperately to keep his oversized jeans up. One hand running freely, the other tugging at the waist of those ill-fitting jeans. He was a good soccer player – feisty and unpredictable. I can still hear his, “Trevvvvvvvvvvvvvv. Why you gotta be that way????” when I’d let a goal slip by me. He’d be running back towards the centre of the court, looking back over his shoulder with a big smile on his face.
His grade 9 and 10 years were filled with growing friendships and good times. Jay Corpeno, Oscar Clara, Jacob Montgomery and Matt had a special bond. Each of these boys was a little bit different than the traditional Streetfront kid that normally sat before me. These boys had a softer side to them. Jay loved art and mountain biking (not a normal combo in this most East Van of alternative schools). Oscar was really tight with his family and his cultural roots. Jacob was this anti-establishment dude who questioned most anything but in a weird neo-hippie kind of way. Then there was Matt, who had a little bit of each in him. He had the ability to fit into any group and just be accepted. Always popular with the ladies, Matt knew how to put on the Martins charm.
Matt finished up his grade 10 year and moved onto Spectrum, a senior alternative program based out of Vancouver Technical. He kept in touch with his Streetfront friends but started branching out and meeting other kids. Matt came back to visit in the spring of 2005. He was filled with the same excitement and energy. He told me about his classes and the friends he had made, about the girls he had in his sights and about the rhymes he was trying to get out of his head. He was really happy. He was making it.
I never saw Matt again. He was murdered that summer, trying to get with his buddies for Canada Day celebrations. He died over a chain he was wearing. He died a brutal death over a chain. That makes no sense. It never will.
I’ve been writing these pieces on former Streetfront students and what they’ve done since they left us. It’s been really nice going through the collective memories and showing others how amazing these kids are. Matt never had a chance to show what kind of man he was going to become; what kind of partner he was going to be; what kind of employee he was going to be; what kind of Dad he was going to be. He was gone at 16. He deserved better. Everyone deserves better.
It’s a Friday and Matt has put the boys down for the night. He checks his texts and sees that Jay’s already at the Pub. He’s got a table with Oscar. Matt kisses his wife and as he leaves he puts his head back inside the door and flashes that Matt Martins smile. It’s a smile that reassures everything. It’s a smile that tells everyone, life is good. We’ll make it. She walks back towards the TV loving the man and looking forward to what will come.
I’d like to introduce everyone to Matthew Martins, an outstanding young man you most likely never got to meet but would’ve never forgot if you did. Take care, Matt.
Sandie Martins-Toner will never get her son back. She knows that. She has replaced the anger and sadness that latch onto such a tragedy with a commitment to bringing hope and positivity to this world. Matthew would be 29 this September 20th and in his honor she will go out into the community and find someone who needs help. This will be unsolicited, like last year when she walked into a grocery store, went down the aisles looking for whom she thought needed a break, found a young mother and her daughter and then surprised them at the checkout by paying for all their groceries. Her and her husband, David called this Matthew’s Random Act of Kindness. Sandie has a fundraiser going on right now and all the profits will go to this year’s Random Act of Kindness. It’s a fitting tribute to a wonderful young man.
Willy DuGray entered Streetfront about as quietly as someone could. Dressed entirely in black, with his hoodie all the way up. His face was a shadow. He was hunched over and didn’t utter a sound when I first met him. I knew his family, having taught his cousin 3 years earlier. His mom was desperate to find something that would awaken her son. He was becoming a shadow himself – an outline of her former son. He was 13 years old.
It was a strange application process, since Willy contributed absolutely nothing to the interview. His lack of words, body language (literally melting into the table to avoid any human interaction) and palpable anxiety told us this was one troubled youth. His mom talked of how he used to be a precocious and garrulous youngster. How he used to be filled with energy and vitality. A kid who loved to play basketball. We had no reason to doubt her but what we saw in front of us, couldn’t have been more to the contrary.
To make things stranger, were the physical demands Streetfront asks of their student’s. We start everyday with an intense, high cardio PE class; we run three 5-10 km runs per week; we go on 30+ outdoor exclusions and 3 camping trips per school year; most of our breaks are out on the field throwing the Frisbee. How was this kid going to make it? Couldn’t have seemed like a worse fit.
Willy came to Streetfront the next day and went straight to his assigned desk and put his head down. He stayed there till we told him we had PE. Reluctantly, he got up and followed us to the gym. Promptly sat down and put his head down between his knees. He stayed that way for the entire hour. Once that was done, he returned to class and buried himself inside his hoodie with his head on the desk. He didn’t utter a word or sound. He ignored everything. We tried to introduce him to his new classmates but that was less than successful. This continued for 2 MONTHS!!!!!!!
This was not easy for me. I’m a pretty high-energy teacher, some might say, hyper. I feed off the energy of the kids. Willy was killing me. He didn’t fall for my ploys. He ignored my tangents. He was immune to any charms I thought I possessed. I was getting nervous. What was I going to do with this kid?
One day I was teaching chemistry. I was walking around the classroom talking about protons and their matching electrons. At certain times pairs of electrons are shared, these are called covalent bonds. I had just started teaching this subject and posed a question that I assumed most wouldn’t know but would segue into the next lesson. As I walked back to my desk, I passed Willy. He was in the same exact position, he always was except beside his head, written in large letters was COVALENT BOND. He hadn’t been asleep. He was actually listening. There was life!!!!
Now as I taught, I recognized the nascent intelligence inside of Willy. He started to put a few answers down on his lesson reviews. He would complete most of the class notes. He still wouldn’t talk or take his head out of his hoodie, but we were making progress. PE and the runs were still an issue. We would ask him to play and reluctantly, he started to oblige. Soccer seemed to interest him the most. We played a lot of soccer. He liked defense, so he was always on my team and we were D partners. He wasn’t really playing, more like getting in the way, but we were ok with that.
He would walk the runs to start. That was a violation of Streetfront rules but we had to bend a bit. After a month or so, the walk turned into a shuffle, which morphed to a lope and finally a run was before us. He was still draped in black, with jeans, hoodie and skin that hadn’t seen the sun for years but he was doing it.
By the end of his grade 8 year, Willy began to speak. He started to mumble answers in our academic classes. He really liked science and it became evident he knew what he was now starting to talk about. Whenever I asked the class for an answer, Willy would pause, never wanting to speak over anyone, and then when nobody else had the answer, give me the correct answer. Eventually, I had to implement the Willy Rule – Willy could only answer the questions I posed to him. If I didn’t, Willy would answer every question. I’m not lying. Every question. Willy’s grades started to rise and as we’ve seen with so many of our students, he started to apply himself to all aspects of our program (except writing essays – that’s another story but you’ll be happy to know that he has conquered that too. See the end). Soon he was enthusiastic about our PE program, he was jumping off cliffs in his snowshoes, and he was making friends. His mom was getting her boy back.
He slowly broke through as a runner, as well. He threw up a lot in those first few 10’s but he persevered. The transformation was becoming ridiculous. By the end of his grade 10 year, if the weather was apt, he would run without his shirt on, hopping over any obstacle in his path. He eventually got up the courage to run his first half marathon. Then came his second and then his first full. Willy has went on to run 11 half marathons and 4 fulls, most of these with zero training. Like so many of our former students, they have mastered the mental aspect of long distance running. Willy will be running the in the Vancouver Marathon this May alongside all the other kids, like the fixture he’s become.
I have two memories that still make me smile about Willy. The first was when I received a letter from his brother, saying how proud he was of Willy and Streetfront’s role in that success. He, like Willy, had faced incredible adversity in his life.
As a young man Willy watched as his family fell apart. He calls his own life as ghetto as they come. His sister nearly died when she fell from the 3rd floor, headfirst into the alley outside of Willy’s apartment. Willy was 6. His brother, a career criminal from the age of 8 (ask Willy), eventually committed a major crime as a 14 year old and was sent to a juvenile detention centre until he turned 19 and then was sent to Kent Maximum Security Prison. Willy was 7.
Willy didn’t talk much about his family but I learned a few things about his brother. While in prison, he honed his art skills becoming a renowned prison tattoo artist. He got his high school diploma. He even was accepted into a stained glass program, a rare thing for certain level inmates. In his letter, he mentioned that he had something for the program and he wanted Willy to give it to me. I had no idea what this gift was but I returned a letter to him, saying I’d be honoured to receive such a gift. A few weeks later Willy walked in with the greatest gift I’ve ever received – a wonderfully crafted stained glass window with the word STREETFRONT written across it. I got Barry and Gord to get the sawzall out and within a few hours, they had cut a perfect rectangle above the door to our office and inserted the stained glass window. The most beautiful transom you have ever seen is still there, just waiting for someone to ask me where it came from.
The second memory to some wouldn’t warrant much attention but to me it meant the world. I love books, maybe too much if you ask Pauline but I think it’s not the worst vice to have. I am always yapping to my students about books and movies – art, basically, hoping that one-day, they would find in books, what I found; a constant friend and companion that always teach you something.
Willy came back to Streetfront the fall of his grade 11 year to visit. He quickly started telling me something that I had waited years to hear. He told me he had read Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury’s classic commentary on what might be in store in a McCarthy dominated USA. He was so excited to talk about the censorship issues and the larger political themes. I added a bit but basically just let him roll. I was so happy for Willy. He found it. He found the beauty in learning. He wanted to engage with those pages, not because he had to but because he wanted to. He wanted to know more.
Willy went on to become an integral part of the Streetfront family. He graduated high school at the top of his class; became a senior mentor with the Yo’ Bro Youth Initiative (an amazing non-profit that works to give kids a chance to reconnect with everything positive in life); became a manager at a recycling depot and was getting an A+ in his essay writing course (I told you, he’d conquer that). He continued his connection to Streetfront, showing up in the mornings for our PE classes and always coming back when I needed him to.
Willy will be travelling to Taiwan this summer with his girlfriend. When he gets back, he’ll start classes at Kwantlen Polytechnic University. Who knows, maybe you’ll be sitting beside him in class? He’ll be easy to find. He’ll be sitting up taller than anyone else in that classroom.
I’d like to introduce you to Willy Valour DuGray.
People think they have it tough. I hear it everyday, how hard their life is.
Raymond King has never had it easy. NEVER. Believe me on this one. However bad things might seem, take solace that you didn’t face the struggles and obstacles this young man has encountered since birth.
Ray came to Streetfront for his grade 10 year. His early school years were filled with upheavals and new beginnings. Consistency and stability were totally absent. Every report card had the same, classic, kiss of death comment, “Raymond has great potential BUT…..”
He definitely struggled in school but the teacher’s were absolutely correct about one thing – the kid had the goods. He just didn’t operate the way they needed him to.
His high school career careened off course pretty quickly. He was asked to leave his high school towards the end of grade 8. He joined an alternative program and found some stability but was still way, way off course. He entered Streetfront in September of 2010, very skeptical of what we were going to offer him.
The first few weeks weren’t super positive. Ray showed up and participated but his heart wasn’t really in it. He had an aloofness and air of superiority that I was unsure how to tackle. His passive aggressive tendencies were well-earned, I knew that after reading his file but I couldn’t earn his respect. It was getting towards late November and I decided to take a different tack.
He had become a very consistent runner with the program, knocking off 10 km after 10 km but he always ran with a friend from his former high school. I was always at the back, picking up any kids who were struggling. I decided one day to go out with the two of them and see if I could take a bit of that smugness off of his face. The run started out slowly and then the pace quickened and quickened. By the 3 km mark they knew what was up. There were no conversations on this run. At every stop light, we kept our eyes on the flashing figure and when it was time to go, we were off. To this day, I have never ran so hard. I’m not sure if they knew but I was breaking down. The last km is a downhill push towards Britannia Secondary and I put everything I had into it. When we pulled up to the portable, I looked over and knew they were dying too. We didn’t say anything. I shook their hand, like I do to every kid who has ever run a 10 during a training run, but remained silent. They knew what transpired. I hoped I had broken through.
The next few weeks were incredible. Ray started to pushing himself more in his academics. He went to Seattle with us and crushed his first full marathon. He started to be a better teammate in PE. He was becoming one of us. He started talking more, not to just us but to his classmates. The sneer and disdain that he once so proudly showed, was being replaced with a welcoming and playful disposition. As the year progressed, Ray turned into the leader of our school. He led in the classroom, led on our outdoor trips, led in our tournaments and led in his commitment to our school.
He left us after his grade 10 year and returned to the high school that kicked him out in grade 8. I told him to walk back into that school and show them what he had accomplished, not in an “f-you”, kind of way but rather in a “… I’m not the kid you used to know” kind of way. And that he did.
He went back and made the honour roll. He went back and starred on the basketball team. He went back and proved to all the doubters and hopefully to one nasty VP, that kids can change if given the support and challenged in the right way.
Ray went on to Langara and then transferred to Simon Fraser University. He is in the fourth year of his Criminology Degree. He is preparing to write the L.S.A.T., which he will write in the spring. We will be there when he crosses the stage to get his degree, along with his amazing grandfather, David Webb, who has supported and cared for Ray for most of his life. We will be there when Ray passes the Bar. We will always be there for Ray because since he left in grade 10, he has never forgot us. He has run every single marathon we’ve participated in since 2010 and every half marathon. That’s 14 fulls and 6 halfs. He has been the big brother to a hundred or more Streetfront kids who grew up in the same world that he came from.
I have NEVER heard Raymond King complain about anything. Nothing. He puts his head down and does the work. That’s what a man does. That’s Raymond King.
If you are interested in other Streetftont stories or would like to donate to our Street2Peak Project (the largest Canadian field study project in Canadian history) please follow the links below.
Here’s another Streetfront gem.
Please meet Frank Joseph. Frankie came to Streetfront after a rough start to his high school life. Always precocious and opinionated, he struggled to find acceptance in his grade 8 year. It was “suggested” that he find a new school. Streetfront became his new school.
Frankie quickly ingratiated himself to the Streetfront staff. A natural athlete, Frankie always felt most comfortable be it l dropping into Hastings skate bowl as a 9 year old or working at his crossovers on the blacktop. He quickly latched onto the physical components of our program. Within days, Frankie was running three 10 km runs each week. By the end of November of his 1st year at Streetfront, he successfully ran the Seattle full marathon as a 13 year old. The troubles and conflicts that had dominated his school life were slowly fading into the background – what was emerging was the talent and confidence that was lying in trust inside that growing body.
Frankie was always a risk taker but they were the wrong kind of risks. What he wasn’t initially prepared to do was commit to his education. I’ve always believed that once we “got” the kid hooked, we could leverage the physical and psychological gains we’ve made and translate that into taking more risks academically. Frankie took on that challenge. By the end of his grade 10 year, he was our top student.
He was flourishing. He decided to enter Britannia Secondary for the remainder of his high school career. The teachers quickly found the same amazing kid we had got to know over the past two years. Frankie continued his connection to Streetfront as a peer tutor and mentor to our younger students. He took considerable interest in our younger Aboriginal boys, who he could see so much of himself in them. He joined the fabled Senior Boy’s basketball team; was selected to participate in the Honourable Paul Martin Initiative, which was an incredible entrepreneurial business program designed for a select cadre of Aboriginal students; participated in building homes for destitute families in Mexico; worked tirelessly to support his family; attended Aboriginal Rediscovery Camps in the summers; you name it, Frankie was involved.
Frankie graduated from High School and wanted to give back even more. He raised funds to attend a leadership/fellowship program in Oliver, BC. This culminated with him doing extensive outreach work in the slums of India.
Once Frankie returned to Canada, he made the decision to enter UBC and start his Education degree. He is currently in his second year and is quickly becoming a star in his program. Like Jesse Costucci-Phillips, his goal is to become an alternative education teacher.
Frankie has never backed down from a challenge. He thrives when things get tough. We’ve witnessed him become the distinguished and accomplished young man that he is today.
Oh yeah, he’s 20 years old and has already run 13 full marathons and 4 half marathons.
I’d like to introduce you to Frank Joseph, an all-star if there ever was one.
If you are interested in other Streetftont stories or would like to donate to our Street2Peak Project (the largest Canadian field study project in Canadian history) please follow the links below.
I’d like to introduce you to Toni Gladstone. Toni went to Streetfront for three glorious years.
She entered grade 8 about as weak and unmotivated as any kid I’ve ever come across. Barry once reminisced that she tried to pay someone to travel the 30 feet to get her something from the vending machine. But as feeble as she may have presented, there was no denying a mischievous little streak in her eyes and a beautifully intelligent, yet very reluctant, mind.
She stuck with us and started to believe in herself. First her grades started to improve, then she had the burgeoning confidence to start applying herself in our PE classes. Then came an interest in pushing herself in our running program.
The staff were in disbelief. This formerly withdrawn and broken down kid, was quickly becoming our best overall student.
By the time she graduated from Streetfront in grade 10, she was an A student, attended at 98%, ran a half marathon, played on the senior ultimate team and was fully committed to her church.
She continued her excellence at Britannia Secondary and graduated with ease, two years later. From there she did humanitarian work in Mexico building houses, continued with her fellowship and then moved to Saskatchewan (the kid has such great taste) and started university.
She just finished her B.A and has decided to move to Winnipeg to help inner-city kids. Something she knows a thing about.
Lets stop focussing on the inanity and debasement of what’s important in this world. Find the Toni’s that are out there. They will make us smile and know that things will all work out.
Congratulations, Toni. You are as beautiful as they come!!!!!!!