Cordova
By Emily Randall
Northeast News
Feb. 3, 2010
Luis Cordova recently received a plain white postcard written in straightforward language with a return address to a Kansas City prison.
“I want to change my life,” the young Hispanic inmate wrote to Cordova, “and I’m in jail right now because of gangs. I would like for you to come and talk to me if you are willing.”
Cordova, who for a short while longer will work in Northeast as program director at Mattie Rhodes Center, receives letters, postcards and phone calls like this every week sometimes every day. He does all he can to counsel these young people, who are mostly Hispanic and often Northeast residents.
It’s not a part of his job description to work all hours of the day directing people to resources, finding them jobs and GED programs and giving it to them straight in the language of the streets about fixing their lives, but it is, he says, his calling.
“I try to give families a piece of mind, even with a phone call,” Cordova said. “I think part of my calling is giving a moment of my time to at least provide some type of tranquility to those in need.
“My fear is I wouldn’t be able to help everybody.”
Cordova is one of the few bilingual, bi-cultural counselors working with young people involved in gangs in the state. He dreams of a day when there will be an established process and a network of organizations and people to help those looking to get out of the gang lifestyle.
“In the Latino community, we don’t have a process to deprogram kids from joining gangs,” he said. “I am it.”
He said one key approach to his success in working with these kids is teaching them respect by showing them respect without judgment.
“When kids come in here, more likely than not, they tell me they’ve been judged and they like that I didn’t [judge them] right away,” he said.
For example, he recently worked with a girl whose father sells drugs, whose brother was expelled from high school, and who was pregnant at age 13. Now she’s a young mother dating a gang member. He said in working with these young people for 22 years he’s observed that more than anything they need love and support from another human being.
“They learn from what we teach them – the streets, the schools and most importantly their parents,” he said.
He winces when young children of immigrants receive blame for their own non-documented status. They didn’t choose to come here, he said, so denying them higher education, health coverage and other social services is an ineffective way to help them become legalized, contributing adults.
“What hope does [an undocumented young person] have? He can go to kindergarten through twelfth grade,” Cordova said. “If he doesn’t graduate, he’s a lost sheep. If he or she does graduate, he or she is a lost sheep.”
Cliché though it may sound, Cordova said it takes a village to support these young people and prevent the violence and vandalism in these Northeast neighborhoods. Unfortunately, racism can be a barrier, he said — people don’t mind other ethnicities, as long as they’re not next door.
“That’s here, that’s Northeast,” he said. “For some people, sometimes it’s too easy to say, ‘Not in our neighborhood; not in our neighborhood; not in our neighborhood,’ instead of ‘How can we help, how can we help, how can we help?’”
Cordova knows the way to communicate with these troubled young people because of his own life experiences. He was raised in East Los Angeles by a poor, single mother. He became known as a tough guy, as he dealt with poverty, racism, not knowing his father, substance abuse and his own adolescent aggression.
Luckily, he said, his strong mother was a good influence on him and taught him to be a giver. He followed the path of education, which led him to his current work toward his doctorate degree and accepting a high-paying job with the Kansas City, Mo., School District. As of next Friday, after six years at Mattie Rhodes, he will be the director of student services for KCMSD.
“My first priority is to make it a good school district,” he said. “It’s going to be a challenging journey, but I feel the time is right.”
In his new position, he’ll work with suspended students, look for resources to fit families’ needs — especially non-English-speaking families — and more.
Although he’ll be an even busier man than he is now — he commutes daily to Kansas City from Warrensburg and teaches one night a week at the University of Central Missouri — Cordova said he’ll still do his best to answer every letter, phone call and postcard and give every desperate family some peace of mind.