A harsh cut for our youth

"We're seeing an acceleration in both the quantity and quality of violence," he said. "The other thing is that it is starting younger and younger."

Pollack, 60, is the director of the Center For Teen Empowerment. He has run youth violence programs in Boston and Somerville for two decades. But now, a combination of rising violence and dwindling resources has him - and a lot of people like him - worried.

First, the dwindling resources. Though the state budget is far from complete, there is something in it for almost everyone to dislike. Almost certainly, taxes will rise. Promised reforms are getting short shrift, at least so far. And, disturbingly, money to combat youth violence has been eliminated in the Senate version released last week.

Not reduced. Zeroed out. The House version, released earlier this spring, had reduced it to half the levels proposed by the governor. However, revenues have continued to plunge.

That is bad news for programs like Teen Empowerment, both substantively and symbolically. "The message is that this is nice, but it's not important," Pollack said. "Sure, the programs lose money, but the symbolism is even more important."

Pollack has been through the budget wars too many times to be naive. Worthwhile programs across government are getting slashed, and there was never any question that violence prevention would go unscathed. "Nobody's saying it's a sacred cow that can't be cut," Pollack said. "We just want to be cut 10 percent, like everything else."

Among other activities, Teen Empowerment puts kids to work counseling other youths. Its most high-profile activity is a Youth Peace Conference, which brings together kids across the city to discuss ways to make the streets more peaceful. This year's event, the 17th, drew 700 people to Jeremiah E. Burke High School on May 9. It wouldn't draw that kind of attention if it weren't deemed valuable.

Even before this recession, state funding for youth violence had been on a downward trajectory. To some degree that was a product of success: As crime dropped, there was a sense that major funding was less necessary. At its peak, earlier this decade, Teen Empowerment employed as many as 80 youth workers; it is down to 17.

Anyone who reads the paper understands why people who work with kids are so alarmed. As Pollack and I were talking last week, the city was preparing for the funeral of Soheil Turner, the 15-year-old who was shot to death waiting for a school bus on Dudley Street. That killing has struck a deep nerve. Aside from its sheer brazenness, its victim was, according to police and others, uninvolved in any unsavory activity. I talked to youth workers who were bracing for what they viewed as inevitable retaliation, and others working tirelessly to calm the nerves of kids worried about being the next victim.

Pollack isn't suggesting that money is the solution to the crime problem, and neither am I. But crime was successfully driven down through a partnership between government, clergy, and community groups. That coalition can't function if government walks away.

Some say this budget is just a reflection of a bad economic cycle that will eventually improve. But with nonprofits hanging by a thread, the question is what will happen in the interim. As it is, Teen Empowerment has just about been priced out of the South End. It might not survive a couple of lean years.

The Legislature is facing a slew of tough choices. But making choices is what they are elected to do. This would be a terrible time to decide violence prevention is a nice idea we really can't afford right now. Just a couple of miles from Beacon Hill, the streets are on fire.

Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com.