North Philly man dedicates his life to helping local youth stay out of trouble

Citizen of the Calendar week: Shawn "Frogg" Banks

The nonprofit leader spent his youth being part of the problem in his N Philly neighborhood. Over two decades after, he's a safety infinite for other kids—twenty-four hours, nighttime or pandemic

Apr. 29, 2020

Before Philly's stay-at-abode order ricocheted through the city, Shawn "Frogg" Banks spent his spare fourth dimension, day or dark, walking through Norris Square, checking in on the immature people in his community.

He'd convince them to stay in school, possibly talk them out of fights. And, he'd reproach anyone who put them in danger.

"I tell older drug dealers, 'Okay, I'grand not going to stop yous from doing what you're doing, merely let's not hurt these babies, human being. Give 'em a risk,'" Banks says.

Every bit the city remains in quarantine, it'due south more than difficult for Banks to wander Norris Foursquare. Just that hasn't stopped him. These days, he touches base with kids over the phone, or rides through the neighborhood and shouts a greeting through the window—sometimes warning people to have precautions against Covid-19.

"It's getting a little frustrating," Banks notes, "'cause it's not hands-on."

Banks has worked for more than 20 years to help curtail violence in Philadelphia, a city that experienced 356 homicides last year. He leads classes, after-school programs, and anti-violence events for kids through Philly-Wood vii, an system he refers to only every bit "my baby."

Through classes and assemblies, he's coached students and kinesthesia at more than than 30 schools, from Simon Gratz Loftier Schoolhouse in Nicetown, to the now-defunct Germantown High. In a class he designed—he calls "Urban Life Skills 101"—he coaches kids to invest in school, and to avoid drug and gang activity. He'due south spent sessions educational activity faculty members to recognize early signs of gang beliefs, like gang signs and colors.

And Banks, who'due south worked in the acting and music industry, has brought musicians to Kensington to headline anti-violence events.

After schoolhouse, Banks partners with Kensington Soccer Club, a pay-what-you-can recreation league, to teach kids not but how to kick a brawl, but how to maneuver through life on a positive track.

On soccer fields, in classrooms, and in correctional facilities, Banks works with children who face possibilities some of us tin can't even brainstorm to fathom. Gang recruitment. Gun violence. Homelessness. Untreated post traumatic stress disorder.

Simply Banks understands the risks all likewise well. In the early on '90s, he had fallen into selling crack cocaine. And then, on March 27, 1995, he survived a kidnapping at gunpoint.

That's when he decided to leave his old lifestyle behind. Xx-five years later, his life is dramatically unlike.

"I know I poisoned a lot of families," he says of the time he spent dealing. "And then that's why I ever give back, too."

"I'thou trying to teach these kids some things that money can't buy: Graphic symbol. Loyalty. Respect. Honesty," he adds. "And once yous instill these in people, and in children—black, white, dark-green or blueish—that coin tin can't buy, then you have a better community."

Early on, Jim Hardy, who founded the Kensington Soccer Gild, noticed Banks' enthusiasm for mentoring kids. Hardy however listens to young soccer players reminisce nearly their time playing for Banks—even years after participating in his after-school plan.

"[The children] come across someone who cares almost them, who connects with them, who wants something cracking for them," Hardy says. "And it's non someone just saying 'oh, stay out of trouble,'" he adds. "It's someone showing them honey."

Soccer never caught Banks' interest growing up, but afterwards watching his 6-year-quondam son fall in love with the sport, he became involved with the Kensington club.

Now, it's a key part of his life—and, Banks believes, a method for seeking conflict resolution. After he leads a practice, Banks holds a fifteen-minute sit-down session, to talk to his players about violence.

From children in South Side Chicago to refugees living in Uganda, communities have long utilized soccer as a tool for empowerment and solidarity. And there'south logic backside information technology: A study released last May constitute that children who endured adversity and trauma tended to have better mental wellness outcomes as adults if they'd participated in team sports during boyhood.

During these long days of the pandemic, violence in Philly has not been subdued.

Betwixt March 15 and April 15, Philadelphia has seen 149 shooting incidents—and 28 homicides— the Philadelphia Inquirer reported. And the urban center's children are not immune to the violence: in the past two weeks alone, a 7-year-old male child and a 4-year-one-time girl have been killed.

Richard Garland, social worker and professor of public wellness at the University of Pittsburgh, connected with Banks through a non-violence campaign in 2007. Both had been involved in gang action and faced incarceration. Today, both are devoting their careers to reducing the violence that plagues their respective cities.

Garland now directs the Center for Wellness Equity's Violence Prevention Project at the academy, and stresses that staying immersed in communities is key to conflict resolution.

He'southward met with gunshot victims in hospitals, and worked within the city's public schools. He's besides employed outreach workers, enlisting men in Pittsburgh who've faced criminal charges to serve as additional eyes and ears in the community.

Bookish studies are important, he added, simply at the aforementioned fourth dimension, "stats can lull us to slumber."

"Everybody wants to do all this research," Garland said, simply, "yous have to understand the complexity in these communities."

After the pandemic has eased up, Banks intends to be out patrolling his neighborhood once more. And, he hopes to go back to pursuing a longstanding dream: opening a prophylactic firm on an empty lot at the intersection of Orianna and Norris streets. Banks envisions a facility that's open 24/vii, with counselors on site—a refuge for kids who demand a identify to spend the night, have a meal, or talk to someone.

"My goal is to take a prophylactic house," Banks says. "Not a law station, non a church, because a lot of these places are non open up 24 hours. This would be a identify where they could come get any type of help they'd need. Information technology would aid stop the violence. Believe me."

For now, the idea of a rubber firm is nonetheless a dream. The lot he's eying may be used for other purposes: Recently it was listed in a proposal for the construction of mixed-income housing in the neighborhood. The Philadelphia Country Banking concern held a coming together in early March concerning the lease, and Banks showed up, adamant to assistance save the plots of land residents had been using for years to create gardens, farms and other community spaces.

Banks, who intends to salvage the property for customs use, isn't daunted.

Meanwhile, he continues to exist a safe space, of sorts, himself.

"[You've] got to connect with people and their hearts and their mindset," he says. "And information technology starts from the youth, 'crusade they are our future."

Shawn "Frogg" Banks with two of his soccer players. Courtesy Kensington Soccer Society.

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Source: https://thephiladelphiacitizen.org/shawn-frogg-banks/

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