Fragile dreams, small victories on mean streets

I spent some time in Chelsea talking to two experts on the subject, Zaida Gonzalez, 22, and her brother, Jose Rodriguez, 20. Zaida was 14 when she grew frustrated with a drug-addicted mother, who kept the Department of Social Services in the dark while leaving her children in a dirty home without food. At first, the teenager’s frustration led her down the wrong path, the one that connected her to a Latin street gang. She started drinking and smoking, and was arrested for vandalism.

Then she realized something that scared her. She was turning into her mother. She decided that was not how she wanted her life to play out. She got more serious about her studies, and graduated from high school. She currently attends Bunker Hill Community College, where she is studying radiation technology. Her dream is to work in that field at Massachusetts General Hospital, where she currently holds a job in the food services department.

Besides putting her own life on track, she also committed herself to getting her brother’s life on track. He was, as he describes it, “looking like a kid who wouldn’t make it, looking like another Chelsea statistic.’’ In middle school, he was constantly suspended for bad behavior. As a disciplinary tactic, it accomplished nothing, since he had a mother who did not care.

When Zaida was 18, she took her mother to court and gained custody of Jose. They now live together in a small, federally subsidized apartment. Jose, who also graduated from high school, is now in the Army Reserves. His dream is to one day be a police officer or even an FBI agent.

The road from street gang member to law-abiding citizen is not straight, easy, or guaranteed. What made this sister and brother decide to try it?

In their case, it was, first, the intervention of a neighborhood social service agency, Roca, that changed their perspective and ultimately their goals. It offers a wide array of services to more than 600 young people whom much of the world probably views as hopeless and worthless.

The word “services’’ does not do justice to what Roca staff members like Angie Rodriguez provide to young people like Zaida Gonzalez. Rodriguez (who is not a relative) showed up on the street corners where Gonzalez hung out, talked to her friends, her school, and, most importantly, to Zaida. The girl would angrily tell Rodriguez to go away and leave her alone, but Rodriguez showed up anyway.

Rodriguez did what Zaida’s mother did not do. She acted like a parent. She told her she believed in her, but she also told her it was up to Zaida to make the right life choices. No one could do it for her.

“You have to want to change,’’ Zaida Gonzalez now says. “If you can’t find help from your family, there are other places to go.’’

The “other places to go’’ cost money and that is the rub. It’s no longer fashionable for politicians to promote a war on poverty. Most taxpayers today don’t want to pay to raise other people’s children.

It costs about $5,000 to put one young person through Roca’s program, which is funded with a mixture of private and public money. The agency just received $2.4 million from the US Department of Labor as part of the Pathways Out of Poverty program. Actor and Cambridge native Matt Damon has agreed to be the keynote speaker at next year’s annual Roca breakfast, adding the kind of star power that should help ticket sales and fund-raising.

Zaida Gonzalez was supposed to be honored at this year’s breakfast. But when the time came to accept the award, she was absent. A family emergency involving a younger sister who became a mother at 17 kept her away.

The cycle is hard to break. One family member, even two, can kick free, only to feel a relative’s hand yanking them back to the dark circle that costs society money and more.

Joan Vennochi’s e-mail address is vennochi@globe.com.