History and Impact

The parents in neon green vests are easy to spot among the throngs of students on the sidewalks around the J. Sterling Morton East High School.

“That jacket,” says 17-year-old Eduardo Gaborit, “became a symbol of security around school.”

His mother is part of the Parent Patrol, a corps of volunteers stationed every morning and afternoon at all schools in Cicero. “I’m not only watching out for the safety of my child. I’m watching out for others,” says Silvia Consuelo Gaborit, a mother of three.

How the Parent Patrol got started and grew mirrors a larger story of change in Cicero. The group emerged out of a movement that took root more than a dozen years ago, when neighbors rallied to restore safety on the streets. In doing so, they set Cicero in a different direction, propelled by the belief that the community could best move forward by working in tandem.

Ismael Vargas, a town employee who also serves as a chaplain for the police and fire departments, points to 2004 as a turning point. Gang violence was intensifying, with police reporting 65 shootings and 14 homicides that year. Members of more than two dozen gangs openly tried to recruit young people and instigated fights near the schools.

Town government and police focused attention on gang-related violence, while residents, recognizing their individual role in addressing the root causes of gang participation—such as the lack of parental involvement in the lives of their children and the cultural barriers that often separate mothers and fathers from their “Americanized” children—stepped up to do more.

“The community would always point fingers at the police department, government, nonprofits, for not doing enough,” Vargas says. “My question to everyone was, ‘What about us? What’s our responsibility?’”   

“We know one of the most effective ways to prevent our youth from getting into gangs is feeling connected to something—either school, community or family,” says Rosario Pesce, a former high school psychologist in Cicero and now the coordinator for clinical training at Loyola University Chicago.

Seven families joined him in starting a Parent Patrol. Building on the interest, School District #99, which includes Cicero’s elementary schools, worked to train 20 volunteers on how to navigate situations and solve potential conflict with gang members. Today, the Parent Patrol has 300 volunteers who operate at all of the town’s 16 elementary schools as well as the high school.

“They’re not cops. They’re not security. They’re parents helping the process of keeping the community safe,” Vargas says. “Your voice is the authority you have, and it is enough.”

That collective of parent voices was bolstered and supported by change at all levels, through the systems and policies that shape the conditions in Cicero. Improving safety became a priority across many sectors, leading to changes in the way the police operated, support in schools with more counseling for students who have experienced trauma in their lives, more interaction between parents and schools, and more outreach to teens who would be most tempted by gang life.

A decade ago, the police bolstered its gang unit and began an intentional effort to build better connections with the community, forging what Commander Vincent Acevez calls “significant and meaningful” relationships. Acevez sits on the safety committee of the Cicero Community Collaborative, a coalition bringing groups to the table to set a collective agenda for residents.

The police department “has changed our entire culture,” says Acevez, head of the Gang Crime Tactical Unit. Officers hold regular Neighborhood Watch meetings and organize basketball and softball tournaments to interact with young people. Last year, Acevez worked with therapists from two nonprofits and the high school to train all officers on how to better interact with people who have been exposed to trauma or repeated stress.

Gangs have not disappeared, but the town has successfully tamped down the level of street violence. In 2017, Cicero had seven gang-related shootings and one homicide, a dramatic improvement over years past. “I tell people it wasn’t us,” Acevez says. “It was the community becoming involved with our department.”

Community safety remains a concern, but it is no longer the most pressing issue. In 2016, residents cited as their top challenge helping children reach educational benchmarks, according to researchers from Loyola University Chicago, who conducted surveys, focus groups, and one-on-one interviews.

“Street violence brought people out,” says Meg Hefty, co-chair of the Cicero Community Collaborative. That engagement led to tangible results and visible impact, encouraging a greater willingness to act on other fronts. “It’s been affirming,” Hefty says.

The community has made a strong commitment to young people, with a particular focus on improving the development of the youngest while making other efforts to directly engage youth. As an urban enclave, where 1 in 3 children lives in poverty, Cicero faces many challenges and is working on multiple fronts to change the course of young people’s lives.

“Everybody has the same mission,” says Elida Ortiz, coordinator of the Cicero Community Collaborative (CCC). “It's for youth, it's for parents, it's for families.”

Action has coalesced around improving outcomes for the town’s 10,000 children younger than five. Even in a state hobbled by budget cuts, Cicero has secured funding for nearly 800 pre-K slots and instituted all-day kindergarten.

The Parent Ambassador program, coordinated through the Cicero Community Collaborative, helps to bring support to children and caregivers. Parents serving as ambassadors connect with other parents—often in their homes—to deliver a message on the importance of early childhood development. This peer-to-peer connection aims to help families overcome cultural barriers that may isolate them.

Linda Rios, a coordinator for All Our Kids Early Childhood Network (AOK), says Cicero is a “complex” community because of the large immigrant population, which makes the need for outreach even more critical.

“It’s difficult to bring families to the table,” says Rios, whose state-sponsored agency supports collaboration among service providers working with young children. Rios says there are practical barriers such as the lack of transportation or language challenges, as well as a reluctance among many Latino families to send very young children to pre-K classes outside the home.

Cicero has a history of advocating for the health interests of young people. In 2007, residents fought to stop the state from shuttering a school-based health clinic at Morton East High School because of a lack of funding. “Adolescents are the least likely to access health care,” says Candida Flores-Matheu, a nurse who runs the clinic. In addition to free or low-cost medical care, more than a third of the students who access services are receiving counseling for mental health issues.

Family engagement and support are critical to the healthy development of youth, and the community has taken significant steps to connect with and serve young people in Cicero. The school district now offers social workers and school-based counselors who meet with students during the school day to make access easier.

The services, which are promoted in a peer-to-peer fashion by student health ambassadors, has resulted in a decrease in school discipline reports and better classroom performance. Groups like Corazon Community Services’ Fuerza Center and Inner City Impact, meanwhile, offer after-school activities for teens to foster a greater sense of involvement and direction.

“Our mission is to catch those kids who may feel disconnected,” says Ismael “Izzy” Vargas Jr., director of youth services at Corazon’s Fuerza Center—with “fuerza” being Spanish for strength. The center’s storefront, with its bright mural of faces, stands out on a busy commercial street as an inviting place. Inside, knots of students are huddled around tables doing homework, while others relax playing pool or work on art projects. There’s a reminder on the wall for college visits, and for those students with sights set on higher education, there is help available for filling out admissions applications.

The young people at the center are advancing a new narrative for Cicero, painting the community for what it is today rather than focusing on the challenges of years past. They’re sponsoring “Break the Violence” events—which include safe places to connect, learn about services, and simply enjoy the summer months—as part of the annual “Peace Movement.”

Maru Morales, a mother of three who moved to Cicero 21 years ago, is a Parent Ambassador connecting young mothers to early childhood services. “I wish I had this,” she says. “It’s like taking someone by the hand and showing them the way.”

Through CCC, more than 30 parents work as ambassadors, receiving a stipend that is funded by a grant from the United Way of Metro Chicago.

“Even though schools have plenty of help for students, sometimes parents don’t know how to access that,” says Araceli Diaz, an ambassador working with parents of high school students. She speaks from experience. Nine years ago, when Diaz was going through a divorce, her son struggled at school. Diaz says this forced her to learn more about how the school could help her family by directing them to counseling. “We’ve gone through some of the same issues of the people we’re trying to help,” she says.

The nonprofit Corazon Community Services, which focuses on services for young people, encourages teens to become peer-to-peer Health Ambassadors. At the J. Sterling Morton East High School, seven ambassadors work with a school-based health clinic to promote its free services, publish a health newsletter for students, and inform their peers about testing for sexually transmitted diseases and the importance of vaccination for the human papillomavirus.

“You have to be brave to speak about a topic that is not easy to talk about,” says Fabiola Avitia, a student at nearby Morton College who runs the Health Ambassador program at Corazon.

Bernice Cruz, a 17-year-old senior at Morton East, is a first-time Health Ambassador. “I’ve never been part of something like this,” says Cruz, who wants to go to college for law enforcement. “It does get you out of your comfort zone,” she adds, by presenting new challenges and situations as both a learner and leader on issues of health.

Elida Ortiz, the CCC’s coordinator, sees the value of passing the leadership baton to a younger generation: “It is gratifying to know that our children are going to be making a difference for the future generations.”