Thankfully, though, there are people like Father Greg Boyle, SJ, who has embraced those on the margins in East Los Angeles and helped bring them hope. For Father Greg, that means helping gang members to step away from that life and into a brighter future. His Homeboy Industries program began in 1988 after he was named pastor of Dolores Mission Church.

Not only was this the poorest Catholic parish in Los Angeles, but the surrounding area also had the highest concentration of gang activity.

Father Greg began working to address the problem. The program he began has now grown into the largest gang intervention, rehabilitation, and reentry program in the world, welcoming thousands through its doors each year. And it is all because Father Greg took a situation that others saw as hopeless and viewed it as an opportunity. He, much like St. Francis, decided to embrace those whom society had turned its back on. And it has made all the difference in the lives of many.

May we all be inspired to seek out similar ways to help those in need.

Father Gregory Boyle, SJ, has built “a culture that heals” in a city plagued by gun and gang violence. His ministry has helped restore hope and reduce crime.

Growing up in South Los Angeles in the 1980s, Osvaldo Fernandez became involved with gangs and drugs at a young age, lured by a false “sense of belonging ” that felt akin to a brotherhood of sorts.

One day the native Angeleno experienced what could have been—or should have been—a transformative moment. A gang rival approached Fernandez while he was unarmed, pulled out a firearm, placed the barrel of a .45-caliber pistol against his forehead—and pulled the trigger.

“And nothing happened,” Fernandez recalls. “Then I reacted and slapped the gun away, and it went off [in the other direction]. And then I ran, of course, and he shot at me a couple of times. . . . God said, ‘It wasn’t your time’ . . . because that first bullet should have been in my brain.”

While that incident didn’t deter him from remaining on the wrong path—which eventually resulted in a 20-year prison sentence on drug dealing charges—today Fernandez, now 48, is determined to reclaim and rebuild his life. His goals: “To be there for my family, my marriage, [to work] and be a productive citizen in society.”

Helping him along that multi-pronged journey is a special LA-based nonprofit founded by a beloved Jesuit priest with a humble nature and a generous heart.

Modest Beginnings

In 1986, Father Gregory Boyle, SJ, was appointed pastor of Dolores Mission Church in the Boyle Heights neighborhood of Los Angeles. Surrounded by the highest concentration of gang activity in the city at the time, Dolores Mission was also the poorest Catholic parish in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, with a predominantly Latino immigrant community.

For Father Boyle, that serendipitous appointment would light the embers of a revolutionary concept that would alter the course of his life and bring hope and healing to countless lost souls: treating gang members as children of God.

As a firsthand witness to the catastrophic impact of gang activity on his parishioners and the surrounding community, he recognized an important underlying truth: Hurt people hurt others.

Instead of ministering around them, Father Boyle began reaching out to young men and women on the margins: former gang members seeking to escape the seemingly endless cycle of violence, imprisonment, lost relationships, broken spirits, and dead-end futures—and willing to accept a helping hand to take that first step.

“If it’s true that the traumatized are going to be more likely to cause trauma, it’s equally true that the cherished will be able to find their way to the joy of cherishing themselves and others,” explains Father Boyle. “It’s not enough to say, ‘Just say no to gangs.'”

With that concept in mind, in 1988 Father Boyle—or “Father G” as he is affectionally known by many—launched Jobs for a Future with a simple goal: to help former gang members find jobs. That mustard seed soon sprouted. Over the past three decades, what began as a local ministry evolved into the highly regarded and widely known Homeboy Industries: the world’s largest gang-intervention, rehabilitation, and reentry program.

Lives Redirected

Homeboy Industries has stood as a beacon of hope in Los Angeles for more than 30 years, providing support services and job training to former gang members and previously incarcerated individuals. Their slogans are many, including “Nothing stops a bullet like a job” and “Hope has an address”—it’s literally 130 W. Bruno Street in downtown Los Angeles.

As a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization, Homeboy utilizes a combination of donations and revenue from various social enterprises to fund its innovative model of therapeutic wraparound services and training. It has a yearly budget of $28 million, and as of 2020 had a professional staff of more than 100, as well as nearly 150 professional volunteers.

Homeboy Industries currently welcomes more than 8,000 people who enter through their doors every year hoping to transform their lives. Its flagship 18-month training program is offered to more than 450 men and women annually.

_{Trainee Osvaldo Fernandez, 48, is determined to rebuild his life after serving prison time for drug dealing.}

The overall goal of the combined services and job training is to allow Homeboy trainees to discover their true selves and learn to make healthy lifestyle choices. By redirecting their lives, they can begin contributing to the well-being of their families and communities, and hopefully break the cycle of intergenerational trauma.

That’s what happened for Inez Salcido, a substance abuse counselor and case manager at Homeboy—who is formerly gang involved and in recovery from drug addiction. The 18-month training program changed the trajectory of her life, which had long been on a similar tragic path as her parents, who both died of complications stemming from years of drug use.

“I come from a long line of addicts and gang members. I was basically raised by the streets, by the neighborhood,” recounts Salcido, the oldest of four siblings who grew up in Southeast Los Angeles. “Growing up, it was a normal thing . . . for us to join the lifestyle.

“So that was my life from the age of 13 until [about my 30s],” she continues.

Not even the birth of her son in her mid-20s deterred her from remaining enmeshed in the life. After watching him grow up from afar (being raised by his dad), Salcido got a dose of tough love from her son: “If you’re not around, I’ll disown you—you [won’t be] my mom.”

“I just remember thinking, ‘Damn, I need to get [it] together,'” she recounts. But she let him down yet again and ended up incarcerated once more. During times of strife, Salcido had rarely turned to prayer because she would inevitably end up back behind bars. One day, it finally clicked: God was answering her prayers by taking her off the streets.

Today, thanks to the support of her family, Homeboy Industries, and plenty of prayers, Salcido has been clean and sober for nine years, and she now helps others in their recovery. Salcido is only one of countless success stories, and one of numerous former “homies” currently making a difference in the lives of trainees. According to Father Boyle, approximately two-thirds of Homeboy’s current senior staff members are themselves graduates of the program.

“I don’t run this place anymore; people who have come through the program run it all,” says Father Boyle. He recounts a presentation led by six homegirls and homeboys, while he was discreetly seated in the back. A woman in the crowd surprised everyone by asking, “Father Greg is going to die someday—what are you going to do after he’s gone?”

Not skipping a beat, one of the homeboys stood up, signaled the other five to stand as well, and replied, “All of us have keys to the place.” They received a standing ovation.

Unfazed by the Pandemic

The onset of the COVID-19 pandemic brought both surprises and challenges for Homeboy, as it did for the rest of the planet.

The mayor of Los Angeles deemed Homeboy an essential organization early on. Despite some initial disruption, they soon adopted all necessary safety protocols, and even set up a temporary canopied outdoor office for Father Boyle to help him continue his seemingly ceaseless stream of conversations of varying lengths with homies—both current and former—while addressing staff inquiries and welcoming visitors.

This was the bustling scene in late November 2021, with Father Boyle, workers, trainees, and volunteers back inside the fully functioning Homeboy headquarters. Inside, Father G sits front and center in a glass-enclosed office. On this crisp fall day, he’s in town, but soon he’ll be traveling again to any number of speaking engagements or promoting his latest book, The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness (see page 39 for a review of Father Boyle’s book).

As he chats with various people flowing in and out of his office, he seems energized and tireless, eager to answer questions and quick to smile. His engaging demeanor is contagious.

“We closed briefly, maybe for three months or something, while we figured out what was going on, like the whole world was,” recounts Father Boyle. They soon pivoted their food services to Feed Hope, providing meals to half a million people—seniors, homeless, and shut-ins in Los Angeles County.

Despite the myriad challenges created by COVID-19, grants, revenues, and donations—including major gifts—have been increasingly robust, notes Father Boyle.

The organization brought in $30.4 million in 2020, an increase of $8.6 million from the previous year. An unexpected boon came when Homeboy Industries was named the recipient of the 2020 Conrad N. Hilton Humanitarian Prize, increased from $2 million to $2.5 million in honor of the 25th anniversary of the award.

And the needed monetary support keeps coming. They received $15 million in funding from the State of California’s 2021‚ 2022 budget to further develop Homeboy’s workforce training and reentry program in partnership with the California Workforce Development Board (CWDB).

‘A Culture That Heals’

Homeboy’s current revenues and outreach stand in stark contrast to its modest beginnings, when the new endeavor not only had very limited resources, but also lacked support from a segment of the community that many find surprising, notes Father Boyle.

“In the early years, [we had] death threats, bomb threats, and hate mail—never from gang members, because we symbolized hope, but from folks who demonize gang members,” he says.

“Almost exclusively our hate mail was from law enforcement,” he reveals. “‘I am a sheriff. I hate what you’re doing, I hate who you are. You’re part of the problem here, not part of the solution.’ The [thinking was], ‘If only Father Boyle knew this population the way we do.'”

At issue was the mindset of us versus them, of “getting the bad guy,” which is the typical mentality among many who work in law enforcement, according to Father Boyle.

“[But] there are no bad guys; there [are] just people in pain or traumatized or mentally ill,” he explains, adding, “The largest mental institution on the planet is LA County Jail, so what does that tell you about how badly we address the societal dilemma?”

_{Father Greg Boyle, SJ, began ministering to gang members in 1986, when he became pastor of Dolores Mission Church, the poorest parish in Los Angeles. Today, “Father G ” continues to embrace those who come to Homeboy Industries as children of God.}

In subsequent years, the chiefs of police grew “more enlightened,” recalls Father Boyle. The evidence, after all, was irrefutable. “In 1992, we had 1,000 gang-related homicides [in Los Angeles],” he says. “Well, what’s happened to that number? It was cut in half. And then cut in half again.

“I think we’ve had a singular impact on public safety. Singular,” emphasizes Father Boyle. “Before there was no exit ramp off of this crazy violent freeway—until this place came around. And suddenly gang members started to see people getting off the freeway.”

Unfortunately, the pandemic has had a negative impact on violent crimes nationwide, with homicides up by 30 percent in every major city across the country, including Los Angeles. “Violence and homicides are always about something else, so the trick is to find the something else. It shouldn’t surprise us that the baseline is really a lethal absence of hope,” explains Father Boyle. “The pandemic exacerbated the despair level.”

Addressing the increasing violence begins with examining its roots and acknowledging that those engaging in violence are not solely gang members or criminals; they are human beings.

“Everybody who comes through here is traumatized and really damaged, so how do we help them heal?” asks Father Boyle. “Society wants to punish the wound, but we say, ‘What if we sought to heal it?’

“We do that around here [at Homeboy]—everybody cherishes with every breath they take, and it’s a culture that heals, and it’s a relationship that heals,” he continues. “Maybe as a society we can too.”

The Marrow of the Gospel

Hand in hand with cherishing one another and embracing a culture of healing is an atmosphere immersed in Christ, though not necessarily in overt, traditional ways. After all, there is more than one way to proselytize, notes Father Boyle.

“There was a woman who [once asked] me, ‘How much time do you spend each day at Homeboy praising God?’ And I said, ‘All damn day,'” he recalls. “The whole place is soaked with the marrow of the Gospel; that’s all you get here. It’s part of the air you breathe.”

Someone else once asked him the question in a slightly different manner: “Do you bring gang members to Christ?” Father Boyle’s reply? “No, they bring me to Christ.” And living the true meaning of Christianity includes always leaving the door open to those genuinely seeking to change their lives, even if they have failed in their previous efforts.

Just like Fernandez. He is more than 12 months into his second attempt at completing the 18-month program. He was first hired as a trainee in 2018, shortly after completing his 20-year sentence. But his initial efforts at Homeboy were half-hearted, he admits now.

This time, Fernandez knows he will complete the program because he is putting in the extra time and effort he avoided the first time around, in particular embracing inner healing.

“If you don’t have that and you don’t work on it, then it’s a guarantee that you will fail and you will go back, or you’ll die; there’s no other gray area,” says Fernandez.

These are facts he knows all too well. When he left the program halfway through 2018, he went back to selling dope, ended up spending another year and a half in prison, and even survived COVID-19 while incarcerated. He was paroled on February 3, 2021, and the very next day he was back at Homeboy Industries, where he was welcomed with open arms.

“Now I’m gonna do the same things, but I’m gonna do it all in a positive way,” he says. And, as before, he’ll do it with the support of his family, his fellow homies, and Father G.

_{Trainees wear t-shirts produced by Homeboy Silkscreen and Embroidery, one of the organization’s 10 social enterprises.}

Homeboy trainees receive hands-on opportunities to learn a variety of job skills while simultaneously earning a paycheck. There are 10 social enterprises at Homeboy Industries, such as:

• Feed HOPE
• Homeboy Bakery
• Homegirl Café
• Homegirl Catering

Trainees also benefit from a variety of services and educational programs, including:

• Tattoo removal
• Anger management
• Domestic violence support
• Youth Reentry services
• Educational services
• Homeboy Art Academy
• Legal assistance
• Mental health services
• Parenting classes
• Substance abuse support

For more information, visit: HomeboyIndustries.org/social-enterprises.

Through her writings, St. Clare offers us a guide to a stronger faith life.

When I traveled to Assisi for pilgrimage almost 10 years ago, I thought I was going mostly to immerse myself in the life of St. Francis. I knew we would also be learning about St. Clare, his companion, but I didn’t feel as drawn to her. At the time, I knew very little of her story, other than she was connected to St. Francis.

Once I arrived, though, and began to also walk in Clare’s footsteps, I found myself drawn to her. I saw a strong woman who held fast in her beliefs, despite the many challenges she faced along her journey. Her resilience inspired me.

Living tucked away at San Damiano, Clare was able to reach people outside the walls of her monastery and still does to this day. She couldn’t spread her message through traveling and preaching, as Francis and his brothers did. Instead, she did it through her words and everyday examples of humility and simplicity.

During her life, St. Clare wrote a number of things that we can still read today. She wrote four letters to Agnes of Prague, a noblewoman who had come to know of Clare through the friars. Through the letters, Clare counseled Agnes in ways to grow and fully live her faith. Clare also wrote a letter to Ermentrude of Bruges, though whether she actually wrote the letter is disputed. But perhaps her two most important writings were her Testament and the Rule for her order—the first woman to do so. That Rule would turn out to be her final words, being approved just a day before her death.

So perhaps I was drawn to her as a writer, with her use of the written word to evangelize. And while the authorship of some of her letters has been questioned, they still capture the essence of her spirit. Therefore, it only makes sense that I find inspiration in her words. Hopefully, you will too.

“Gaze upon the mirror each day, O Queen and Spouse of Jesus Christ, and continually study your face within it.”
—Fourth Letter to Agnes of Prague

Just as I suspect, most people do, when I look into a mirror, I see my flaws. Unfortunately, given the standards of the society we live in, we have been conditioned to do just that. I focus on the gray hairs that I want to get rid of, the COVID-19 weight I’ve gained but not yet taken off, and the wrinkles I want to cover up. I also use it to help put on the products that I use to mask the things that I find troubling.

What I don’t see reflected back at me, though, is what lies beyond that mirror.

In both her fourth letter to Agnes of Prague and her Testament, Clare uses the mirror as a tool to show others how to live out their faith.

Being born into a family that was part of the majore, or upper class, meant that Clare would have had the finest of things, from clothes to food. So, surely, she had a mirror or two with which to check her appearance. It’s not too difficult to imagine that some of them may have been rather ornate.

In her fourth and final letter to Agnes of Prague, Clare used the concept of a mirror as a tool to help Agnes grow in her faith. Also of nobility, Agnes would have understood the reference. What she might not have realized, though, was the deeper meaning of the mirror of which Clare spoke.

The challenge, Clare told her, was to not only look into the mirror and see ourselves, but to also think of how the mirror is reflecting us to others. She once again used this reference with her sisters in her Testament, saying: “For the Lord himself has placed us not only as a form for others in being an example and mirror, but even for our sisters whom the Lord has called to our way of life as well, that they in turn might be a mirror and example to those living in the world.

“Since the Lord has called us to such great things that those who are to be a mirror and example to others may be reflected in us, we are greatly bound to bless and praise God and be all the more strengthened to do good in the Lord.”

One of Clare’s great gifts was to explain ways to follow our faith in a very accessible way. It is a gift that still guides us today.

“She was the first flower in Francis’ garden, and she shone like a radiant star.”
—St. Bonaventure on Clare

When I am seeking peace, I often go to my garden. I soak in the beauty of the flowers and marvel at how the flowers I planted the year before have continued to grow and spread. Plants that are thriving are often divided and replanted in other places in the yard, where they will once again grow and spread.

I remember having that same feeling I have in my garden when I was in Assisi and looked out over the valley below the city. I would take in the beauty of the wide array of flowers spread across the landscape. And I would marvel at the flowing flower boxes on the houses as I walked throughout the city. It was a feast for the eyes. And it made me think of St. Clare.

Clare often called herself the “little plant of St. Francis.” And while St. Francis may have helped start her growth, she certainly did most of the growing and spreading on her own. Just like the many flowers in Assisi, Clare shared the beauty of her faith for all to see through her actions and words. From inside the walls of San Damiano, she grew and nurtured a community of sisters that flourished and spread far and wide, even to this day. There is great beauty in that.

“May the excitements of the world, fleeing like a shadow, not disturb you.”
—Letter to Ermentrude of Bruges

Every time I read these words, I think of the iconic line from the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” And both quotes are perfectly accurate.

We live in a world of bigger, better, faster. We work longer hours, sleep less, and are constantly on the go. As a result, we find ourselves stressed and exhausted. But in her letter to Ermentrude of Bruges, St. Clare reminds her that it doesn’t have to be that way. And Clare had the example to back up what she was saying.

For most of her life, she lived a very simple and quiet life at San Damiano. She and her sisters found joy and solace in the slow pace of their lives, which were filled with prayer and necessary work. There were no excesses to draw attention away from their focus, which was Christ.

One of the greatest mistakes many of us make is thinking that we will have enough time to do whatever we plan to. We push things off for later or when we have the time. What we don’t think about, though, is, What if there is no later? St. Clare died at a rather young age by today’s standards. But look at how determined she was in her calling and everything she accomplished during those years. With that in mind, we should ask ourselves what we are doing with our time.

“Let the love you have in your hearts be shown outwardly in your deeds.”
—Testament of St. Clare

So many times in life, it seems as if words fall short of what we want to express. Sometimes we just need to show up. One of my most precious memories of my mom, who passed away shortly before I traveled to Assisi, is one of presence.

On the one-year anniversary of a close friend’s passing, her family had a Mass said for her. During a conversation with my mom, I believe I had mentioned it and that I was going but said nothing more. The next morning, though, as I walked into church, I saw my mom sitting in one of the pews. I hadn’t expected anyone to join me. When I walked up and sat next to her, she simply took my hand in hers.

Throughout my life, I’m sure my mom had said thousands of words to me. But one of the things that I most vividly remember is not something that she said, but rather something that she did. She showed up.

St. Clare was known for showing up. She often took care of her sisters—or the friars—who were ill. In fact, she cared for Francis near the end of his life. One story is that Clare used to wash the feet of her sisters after they would come in from doing chores. On this particular day, as she finished washing the feet of one of her fellow sisters, Clare bent over to kiss her foot. Out of humility, the sister pulled her foot back, striking Clare in the mouth. Rather than recoil in pain, Clare simply proceeded to kiss the sister’s foot.

Even when Clare was sick and in bed, she ministered to others as she was able. During those days, she would use the time to sew altar cloths for surrounding churches. Ministry in action—that was Clare’s default. It should be ours as well.

These are only a few lines from St. Clare’s writings that can serve as starting points for the growth of our faith on both the inside and outside. If a simple woman living a life inside the walls of San Damiano can cast such a powerful message and example to the world, imagine what we can do, with the help of her direction.

Who was St. Clare of Assisi? Find out here!

First implemented 25 years ago, Cristo Rey high schools have survived declining enrollment, rising costs, and a pandemic. And they’re still going strong.

The Founders of an innovative schooling model certainly never dreamed their high schools would need to survive a financial crisis caused by a pandemic. In fact, the thinkers behind the Cristo Rey Network were simply responding to the Gospel call to serve those who need it most.

“The model was created out of a need to fund the students’ cost of education,” explains Morgan Collier, executive vice president at Cristo Rey Jesuit High School in Chicago. This school pioneered a new model intentionally created to serve families who could not pay tuition.

“The founders around the table knew the city of Chicago had generous Catholic corporate leaders and said, ‘Well, maybe the students can work to pay for their education by harnessing the generosity of those leaders,'” she says.

For decades, Catholic schools have relied on parishioner donations, steady tuition income from substantial enrollment, and a low-paid faculty of consecrated religious. Today, laity in need of living wages make up the vast majority of school faculty. Rising tuition quickly prices out middle- to low-income families. Enrollment was falling even before the pandemic caused many families to seek financial relief.

The Catholic innovators behind the Cristo Rey Network saw the writing on the wall and have already rethought their financial system for a new age. Though impacted by the economic downturn caused by the pandemic, these schools are weathering the storm and helping their students to thrive even in the toughest times.

A Downward Spiral

According to data released February 2021 by the National Catholic Educational Association (NCEA), an average of 100 Catholic schools close or consolidate every year. Few schools open to balance the loss; on average, only 15.

Financial woes caused by COVID-19 accelerated these closures. By the fall of 2020, over 200 Catholic schools had closed or consolidated. Most cite economic uncertainty: Tuition is unpaid, enrollment is plunging, and donations have dropped.

“The economics are a real challenge. It’s expensive to run a school; and to do so for the families who most deserve it, it’s impossible to ask them to pay more than they have,” explains Daniel Dougherty, president of Cristo Rey New York.

Elementary schools have borne the brunt of the pandemic, making up nearly 90 percent of the closures. But since those schools are a pipeline for high schools, they are a predictor of future trends. “Declines in enrollment at the primary grade levels may lead to a delayed but significant impact on secondary school enrollment within the next five to 10 years, proving potentially disastrous for secondary school viability,” reads the NCEA report.

Rethinking the System

The Cristo Rey model is a pioneering funding and educational structure tested in Chicago 25 years ago and now replicated in 38 high schools across the country, with a total enrollment of over 12,300 students. In contrast to the national trend, their school count during the summer of 2020 was unchanged by the pandemic: One school closed, but another opened. An additional Cristo Rey high school opened last fall, with another scheduled to open this year. Two more may be founded in coming years.

“We’re not affiliated with a parish, so we don’t rely on parishioner support for the school,” explains Collier. “Yet we’re also not driven by enrollment and tuition like so many other schools. If we take a hit in enrollment of 10 students, we’re not in jeopardy of closing, per se, because our revenue model is driven by the students that we have working for companies.”

In addition, Cristo Rey schools charge only minimal tuition from students, so families have been able to keep their kids in school even in tough times.

The Cristo Rey high school in the East Harlem neighborhood of New York City, in contrast to 20 school closures in their arch-diocese, actually had more students after the pandemic began and is currently at capacity.

“We don’t let ability to pay stand as an impediment to students attending,” explains Dougherty. “Our tuition is $2,000 a year, and it was $2,000 when we opened the school in 2004—it’s never gone up.”

Scholarships and grants mean that most families do not pay even that much. Nationally, Cristo Rey families pay an average of $788 per child per year. By comparison, it costs the school about $15,500 to educate each student.

An Innovative Model

If there is minimal tuition and no direct parishioner support, how does Cristo Rey pay the bills? They draw on the very resource they are attempting to foster: the students.

Students at a Cristo Rey school spend four days in the classroom with daily schedules that are slightly longer than the average high school. On the fifth day of the week, the students go to work in a real corporate setting with entry-level responsibilities, effectively paying for their own education.

“I think it’s a blessing,” says Kaela Dolmo of her corporate job. Kaela began her senior year at Cristo Rey New York last fall.

“My mom didn’t have as much opportunity as me. She went to Catholic school but only for a year because my grandma wasn’t able to financially support it. So I think that for me to help my mom actually support getting my education and actually doing the work to help pay, I think it’s amazing. I’m so happy that I can actually do it.”

These job opportunities are assigned by the school itself. Each Cristo Rey high school seeks out corporate partnerships to find work for their students. Law, accounting, and architectural firms; local government agencies; insurance companies; and tech businesses are just some of the groups that hire Cristo Rey students.

Sometimes the teens are placed at businesses that they could only dream of. Students from De La Salle North Catholic—a Cristo Rey high school in Portland, Oregon—have been hired by apparel giants Nike and Adidas. In New York, Kaela worked at Capital Group, one of the world’s largest investment organizations.

Cristo Rey schools are not attached to a parish. Most are sponsored by a religious order and draw students from a larger area than traditional Catholic schools. These families are attracted to the unique opportunity that Cristo Rey offers and are willing to travel for it. It took Kaela about 45 minutes, or “two trains and a bus,” to get to school.

“You need to be committed,” she explains. “The school’s committed to you; you have to be committed to actually do the work.”

Back to the Roots

The model may be new, but Cristo Rey schools see themselves as going back to the roots of Catholic education. The schools are intentionally founded in inner-city and low-income neighborhoods where they serve mainly minorities and immigrants. Their ministry is not unlike the beginnings of the Catholic school system in this country, founded by saints such as Elizabeth Ann Seton, Frances Xavier Cabrini, and Katharine Drexel, to educate the poor and outcasts of their days.

Nationally, minorities and urban communities are losing access to Catholic education at an alarming rate. According to the February 2021 data from the NCEA, “Underserved groups were over twice as likely to have their schools closed compared to all closures and all communities served by Catholic schools.”

The first Cristo Rey high school was founded in 1996 in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago, then known as a hot spot for drugs and gangs. A shuttered parish elementary school building was purchased and converted for secondary school use.

The goal was providing an excellent education for low-income, mostly first- and second-generation Mexican immigrants. The Cristo Rey plan was to give students entry-level corporate jobs that covered educational costs.

_{A graduate of De La Salle High School in Portland, Oregon, Zhada Allen now attends Clark Atlanta University, the first historically Black college or university in the South. She says Cristo Rey taught her, “You’re capable of doing anything, if you put your mind to it.”}

The model worked. Within a few years, this first Cristo Rey high school was bursting at the seams and needed to expand the building.

“[My parents] just really had a huge concern, like my brothers or my sister and I falling into the wrong path because it was so common at the time,” says Chicago alumna Hilda Carrasco. The daughter of immigrants, Carrasco graduated in 2014 and now works at an accounting firm that employs Cristo Rey students. “By being at Cristo Rey, we were surrounded by a community that believed in us.”

By 2001, the model was replicated in Portland, Oregon. That school, De La Salle North Catholic, recently moved into a new, larger space—after renovating a parish elementary school that had been closed for 35 years—in order to accommodate the waiting list of students who want to attend.

Tim Joy, who retired as principal of De La Salle North Catholic in June 2021, lists current issues of “this time of trauma associated with the pandemic, but also the nation’s own reckoning with injustice and race.” Black, Hispanic, and minority students make up nearly 90 percent of the student body at his high school. “I think the kids at our school are the future of Portland,” he concludes.

Believe and Achieve

The Cristo Rey founders soon discovered that they had hit on an idea that was valuable from more than a financial perspective. Their students were thriving. For many, the corporate internship opened up a world of unexpected opportunity.

“Had it not been for Cristo Rey, a lot of us wouldn’t have even learned how to dress professionally,” explains Carrasco. Cristo Rey schools require businesslike uniforms and host training programs to teach new students corporate etiquette. “I think, overall, that just really helped give us an idea that we could see ourselves working in downtown [Chicago businesses],” she says, adding that her father worked low-paying factory jobs his whole life.

All Cristo Rey students leave high school with four years of corporate experience under their belt, something future employers find attractive. Many of them also leave with professional recommendations and networks that follow them into college and beyond. But on a much deeper level, the Cristo Rey corporate work-study program helps students realize what they can achieve.

That is what happened to Zhada Allen. A new graduate of De La Salle in Portland, she intends to study medicine in college, with the hopes that, in a few years, she’ll be “wearing that white coat and being an OB/GYN.”

Her freshman year at De La Salle, Zhada was placed to work as an assistant to an OB/GYN doctor. Her responsibilities included greeting patients, taking their vitals, preparing for examinations, and assisting during medical procedures.

“I was like, ‘I don’t know if this is going to be a good fit for me. I don’t know if I’m good enough,'” Zhada says. “You know, being only 15 and a freshman and you’re working in health care. . . . Do you trust me doing that? Should I be doing that?”

With the confidence and experience gained at her job, Zhada applied to 15 colleges and universities. She was accepted into all of them.

“The opportunity to get a college prep, academic education and to get exposure to the professional workplace seems to have a magical effect on student growth,” explains New York’s Dougherty. “Every one of our kids is admitted to a four-year college, and the class of 2020, every single one of them enrolled in a four-year college, even in the midst of the pandemic.” He compares Cristo Rey kids to students with similar socioeconomic backgrounds who, according to national statistics, usually enroll in college at half that rate.

“I’m amazed when—I’ve heard this from a couple of visitors—people come to the school and they’re just surprised. They come in, and kids walk up to them and say hello and say, ‘Can I help you?'” says Joy, the retired principal in Portland. “Our kids are different because of that whole experience of [being] surrounded by teachers and staff who care and love them and know them by name . . . and strong relationships with their supervisors.”

Beyond the Pandemic

The Cristo Rey model shows that, with innovation and dedication, there can be a bright future for Catholic schools, despite the present struggles.

“Parents yearn for schools that form character and focus on whole-child development,” says Elizabeth Goettl, president and CEO of the Cristo Rey Network, which oversees all the high schools following the model. “For future viability, schools need to perform at high levels in every respect, provide real value, [and] consider creative funding mechanisms that allow enrollment of students from middle- and low-income families.”

A model combining whole-student education with a low financial barrier carries an attractive power that could draw students, reverse declining enrollment, and revive the Catholic school system.

The Cristo Rey model will not work for every school. Elementary schools, of course, cannot send their students to work at corporations. But educators need to find other ways of providing excellent schooling without pricing out low-income families.

A century ago, Mother Frances Cabrini established 67 institutions in 35 years—including schools, hospitals, and orphanages. Catholic schools today need courageous innovators who are not afraid to strike out against all odds and follow the fresh promptings of the Holy Spirit.

As Cristo Rey shows, a thriving school system produces thriving students. Taught by educators listening to the Holy Spirit, the students are themselves ready to listen and change their world in their own time—which might come sooner than expected. For example, the new building for De La Salle North Catholic in Portland was partly designed by one of its graduates, now an employee of the architecture firm where he worked in high school.

“I knew that if I wanted to see change, I had to be that change,” explains Zhada of her decision to pursue a medical career after her experiences at Cristo Rey in Portland. In words that would hearten Catholic educators, she concludes, “You’re capable of doing anything, if you put your mind to it.”

After praying for the victims in Uvalde, Pope Francis said, “It’s time to say, ‘Enough!’ to the indiscriminate trafficking of guns.”

I vividly remember the shock and heartache I and so many others around the country felt following the shooting at Columbine High School in April 1999. I was in high school myself at the time, and things never really felt the same afterward. The fear that a horrific event such as Columbine would happen again was validated over and over: Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, Pulse Nightclub, Las Vegas, to name only a few.

This past May, a mass shooting at a Buffalo supermarket by an alleged White supremacist was followed a mere 10 days later by the tragedy in Uvalde, Texas. With school out for the summer, crime waves seem to parallel heat waves, especially in dense urban areas, and we find ourselves inundated by news stories about gun violence in our city streets. As I write this, I’m also reminded of a family friend who died by suicide 10 years ago today. A gun that he purchased in the interest of self-defense was ultimately used for self-harm. Along with suicide by firearm, there are countless accidental gun deaths.

As a people, we’re heartbroken, fatigued, and fed up. How do we respond? How can we even find the energy to dig deep and face this abyss?

‘Enough!’

Now 23 years after the dark benchmark of Columbine, if anything has changed with regard to gun violence in our country, it’s been for the worse. Fortunately, there are voices calling us to walk the Gospel path—the only way forward for our sick society.

During his general audience on May 25, after praying for the victims in Uvalde, Pope Francis said: “It’s time to say, ‘Enough!’ to the indiscriminate trafficking of guns. Let us all strive to ensure that such tragedies can never happen again.” Echoing the pope’s sentiment, Cardinal Blase Cupich, archbishop of Chicago, tweeted: “The Second Amendment did not come down from Sinai. The right to bear arms will never be more important than human life. Our children have rights too. And our elected officials have a moral duty to protect them.”

As Cardinal Cupich suggests, there are some in our country for whom the right to own a gun is almost sacred. The Second Amendment—written for the purpose of the forming of state militias during the vulnerable early days of our nation—doesn’t specify which arms we have a right to bear, and it’s hard to imagine that the Founding Fathers had semiautomatic rifles equipped with bump stocks in mind. As it stands, our inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are taking a back seat to the right to gun ownership.

Instruments of Death

Instead of looking critically at our gun culture, every time there is a mass shooting, opponents of gun control will vaguely reference “mental health” problems in our country as the cause, though it’s almost never specified what is meant by the use of that phrase. Numerous studies, including a massive and potentially definitive study that appeared in the journal Psychological Medicine in February 2021, have shown that there simply is no connection between mental illness and mass shootings.

So if mental illness isn’t the culprit for mass shootings, what is? Others say that the root of this violence is evil. Now we’re onto something. But pointing out that evil is the cause says nothing about the means. With reasonable restrictions on firearms in place, we can hope for a country with fewer instances of gun violence—including mass shootings. I say “hope” because until we as a society try out a reasonable approach to gun control, we won’t know how well it will work.

By the time you read this, the stalemate in our polarized political climate will have resulted in more avoidable massacres. Why wait any longer? Why make the children in our country wait a single day more? That is, in itself, evil.

Thirty-six years after Tom Cruise’s Top Gun blasted into theaters, the sequel arrives without missing a beat.

When Maverick is fired from his job as a test pilot by Admiral “Hammer” Cain (Ed Harris), he is reassigned to the Top Gun Academy in San Diego where he once trained. Neither Cain nor “Cyclone” (Jon Hamm), who commands the flight school, want Maverick to go to Top Gun, but his old nemesis, “Ice” (Val Kilmer), now the commander of the US Pacific Fleet, decides that Maverick is needed.

The fighter pilots are needed for a top secret mission, and Maverick is the only one who can train 12 pilots (including a woman, “Phoenix,” played by Monica Barbaro) from which six will be chosen. Though we never find out where it is, the pilots learn that a uranium enrichment plant has been detected in a hostile country and must be destroyed. One of the young pilots is “Rooster” (Miles Teller), son of “Goose,” Maverick’s friend and radar intercept officer, who died in a training accident with Maverick in Top Gun.

There is tension between Rooster and Maverick from the get-go, just as other tensions play out in the film, some of which will remind fans of the original. Joseph Kosinski does a stellar job directing this sequel. The action-packed and emotional script was penned by a trio of writers, Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie, with music from Hans Zimmer, Lady Gaga, and others. Oscar winner Jennifer Connelly, who plays Penny, a single mom whom Maverick once dated, is the romantic interest.

Top Gun: Maverick is very entertaining and even inspiring. The film belongs to Cruise, Kilmer, and Teller. The meeting between Maverick and Ice, whose health is in obvious decline, is as warm as it is hostile and competitive. Themes of forgiveness, reconciliation, brotherly love, and humility abound. But the women, even Phoenix, are given far less to do in the film. In the background is the constructed geopolitical context of bombing an enemy country without any attempt at diplomacy and killing pilots who have no faces.

A-3, PG-13, Battle violence, peril.

Downton Abbey: A New Era

In 1928, the aging Lady Grantham (Maggie Smith) reveals to the family that she has been left a villa in France and that the family has been invited to visit. Everyone upstairs and downstairs wonders what is going on, but preparations for the journey are made. To complicate things, Jack Barber (Hugh Dancy), a film director, arrives to shoot a film at Downton. Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) remains at the estate to watch over the production and the house, while the family decamps to the French Riviera.

Just how the villa came to Lady Grantham is a mystery that her son, Robert (Hugh Bonneville), must solve because his identity is threatened by this gift, and his mother is saying very little.

While this overlong film is bookended by the wedding of one of Downton‘s favorite characters, Tom Branson (Allen Leech), to Lucy Smith (Tuppence Middleton), and the death and funeral of another, everything in the middle is just a chance to barely catch up with characters we grew to love during the six seasons of the television show.

The film looks gorgeous, but the story is so heavily contrived as to border on boring. The plotlines are neatly tied up at the end, including the gay butler, Thomas (Robert James-Collier), finding a romantic partner (Dominic West). It’s time to retire Downton Abbey, which is streaming on Amazon Prime.

A-3, PG, Mature themes.

Hustle

Stanley Sugerman (Adam Sandler) has been traveling the globe for 30 years as a scout for the Philadelphia 76ers, an NBA team, and he dreams of being a basketball coach. When the owner, Rex Merrick (Robert Duvall), dies, his ruthless son, Vince (Ben Foster), takes over, and his daughter, Kat (Heidi Gardner), Stanley’s ally, moves on with her life beyond the team.

Stanley discovers an amazing player in Spain, Bo Cruz (Juancho Hernangomez), but he fails to do a background check before bringing him to Philadelphia. Things go from bad to worse as Stanley’s professional and personal relationships fall apart. This is probably the best acting I have seen from Sandler in this small movie with a big heart. Hustle is streaming on Netflix.

Not yet rated, R, Crass humor; references to porn addiction; language.