In the City of Angels

This July, when my husband and I were in Los Angeles for a family wedding, were also able to manage a trip to Homeboy Industries. It is currently the largest gang rehabilitation and re-entry program in the world, and I have wanted to visit if for a few years now. Homeboy has come a long way from where it started decades ago in Dolores Mission, in the poorest Catholic parish in the city. A young Jesuit priest named Gregory Boyle was assigned there and served a Latino church between the two housing projects where eight different gangs vied viciously for turf. Father G, as he is called at Homeboy, recognized how dire poverty and pervasive despair fed cycles of escalating violence. So he decided to see what could be done to interrupt them. It turns out that a lot could be done — and a lot still can be.

A cup of kindness, for sale at the Homeboy shop, holding Father G’s benediction

Like many people, I got to know the origin of story of Homeboy by reading Father G’s bestselling memoir titled Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion. His first book was followed by others, including Barking to the Choir: The Power of Radical Kinship; The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness; and most recently, Cherished Belonging: The Healing Power of Love in Divided Times. The subtitles titles are fairly self-explanatory, and they plainly point to the values that have given Homeboy such staying power over the years. These days, I think it’s fair to say, it almost as much a movement as it is an organization, which explains the existence of a growing Global Homeboy Network across five continents.

Father G’s thinking about the role Homeboy could play in L.A. has evolved through the years. Initially, it was an educational program that sought to provide the former members of gangs with the chance to continue or even complete their schooling. Then it expanded to offer employment opportunities and connect ex-convicts with what he characterized as “felony-friendly” work placements. When those appeared fairly hard to come by, Homeboy started a bakery, which was soon followed by several additional enterprises, among them a catering business and the Homegirl Cafe. Then Father G and the people he worked alongside came to realize that although education and employment made it much less likely that homeboys and homegirls would re-offend, it gave no guarantee. Father G eventually concluded that only the collective healing of individuals through trauma-informed care could provide any real preventative. The people who heal together are that much stronger for the faith they place in one another.

Continue reading →

Humans Here and Everywhere

One of my very favorite things to do is say, “It’s like Grand Central Station in here” while standing in Grand Central itself. I’ve told that joke more times than I can count and texted it to friends and family and also posted it online. What could be funnier? I never get tired of telling it; as far as I am concerned, that joke never gets old. In the fall of 2025, though, when I was in Grand Central for the express purposed of visiting the fabled Dear New York exhibit, I didn’t make it once. Because during the two weeks that the massive photography show was hosted there, it didn’t resemble Grand Central as closely as usual. It more nearly resembled a cathedral to humanity, and all of the commuters and visitors became its joyful acolytes.

Perhaps you were able to see it yourself last October in the city; it was the largest scale public art exhibit in New York since The Gates wound their way through Central Park, exactly 20 years earlier. But Dear New York was set entirely indoors, underground along the tracks of the MTA subway trains and of the Metro North commuter lines, above ground in the vaunted spaces of Vanderbilt Hall and the Main Concourse. For the span of the two-week—long exhibit, there was no advertising to be found anywhere in those places, only the portraits of New Yorkers on the walls and turnstiles. 

They were an amazing sight to behold, the sea of faces floating above another sea of faces, New Yorkers for as far as the eye could see. Each of these portraits was taken by photographer Brandon Stanton, who in 2010 set out to take what he called “a photographic census of the city.” In the intervening years, by all measures, he has succeeded, photographing more that 10,000 New Yorkers in all. Over the course of his amazing career, he has also helped raise tens of millions of dollars for the subjects he has photographed, putting names to their faces and telling their stories.

Continue reading →