Saskatoon StarPhoenix

Str8 Up at a ‘crossroads’ amid financial difficulti­es

Group that helps Ex-gang members struggles to Find Funding sources

- ANDREA HILL

Father Andre Poilievre is getting tired.

At 82-years-old, the former Saskatoon Correction­al Centre chaplain lives in a seniors’ home where he watches fellow residents battle the unrelentin­g process of aging.

Poilievre feels it too, yet every day he works to help men and women who want to leave gangs. He goes to court to advocate for former gang members and visits the city’s correction­al centres to speak with people behind bars who want to give up their colours. He can’t keep going forever. “I don’t have the energy. If I had the energy I would, but I just don’t,” Poilievre said.

He keeps at it because it’s not yet clear who will take over if he stops.

Poilievre retired from the Saskatoon Correction­al Centre in 2002 and was soon approached by two teens he had worked with inside. They were in a gang and wanted out. Would he help?

“I said ‘ Well, I have no idea either what to do,’ ” Poilievre recalls.

But he worked with the young men and helped them turn their lives around. He hasn’t stopped since.

“Two became three and three became four and word got out,” Poilievre says.

He eventually founded Str8 Up, an organizati­on dedicated to supporting people who want to leave gangs and start new lives. He has volunteere­d with the group nearly every day since.

He estimates Str8 Up has helped more than 500 people in the last 16 years. Yet the group has always struggled to find money to stay afloat.

“It’s unbelievab­ly hard,” Poilievre said. “We’re working with ex-cons, with First Nations/ Indigenous, gangs. And all of those three groups of people don’t have many respecters in the community.”

Stan Tu’inukuafe, president of the Str8 Up board of directors, says it can also be hard for some people to recognize Str8 Up’s successes. Many ex-gang members the organizati­on works with battle addictions and end up behind bars while they transition away from gang lifestyles. But that doesn’t mean Str8 Up isn’t working, he says.

“Before, they were shooting people. Now their level of violence is decreasing. That’s how we’re measuring success,” he says. “They’re not going to be at university tomorrow.”

Str8 Up runs on grants and private donations.

A couple years ago, the organizati­on was operating with an annual budget of $500,000 and employed two full-time outreach workers, a program co-ordinator and an executive director. But money has dwindled gradually.

Part of the reason is internal; Poilievre says Str8 Up simply isn’t good at governance and struggles to apply for grants and find other sources of money.

This year, Str8 Up is working with about $300,000. It employs just one part-time outreach worker, whose funding expires next month, and an executive director, whose money runs out in March.

The organizati­on estimates it needs an annual budget of $1.2 million to be effective. That would allow it to employ more outreach workers and a court worker in addition to existing staff.

When the organizati­on had more manpower, outreach workers went to the correction­al centre to meet Str8 Up members when they were released from custody.

“We would take them wherever they needed to go and then help and support them. We can’t do that any more,” Poilievre says. “So when the guys get out, we don’t meet their needs because we don’t have the resources.”

It’s more common these days for people to find the Str8 Up offices on Avenue V South in Pleasant Hill locked because there’s simply no one around to staff it. The organizati­on also has ceased doing presentati­ons at schools.

Poilievre says Str8 Up is “at a crossroads.” It doesn’t have sustainabl­e funding, which means the organizati­on could fold if a solution isn’t found soon.

“If Str8 Up dies, there’s no doubt that the people that will struggle the most are the young people who won’t have the opportunit­y to identify with someone who loves them, who respects them,” Poilievre says.

“Can you name another group of people in the province that is willing to assist and support young men and women who want to leave the gangs? It’s the only reason we’re here, because they have no place else to go.”

Str8 Up member Debbie Waskewitch joined a gang in the early 1990s when she was 13 years old. She left 14 years later with the help of Str8 Up and is now sober, committed to being a good parent and trying to be a role model for youth.

She says she can’t imagine what people in her position would do if Str8 Up ceases to exist.

“There’d be no office to come to to get that help that we need for IDS, for getting to treatment when we want to get into treatment, getting to make appointmen­ts to get the help that we need. There’d be absolutely nothing. We’d probably just be lost,” she said.

Chris Moyah, who has been involved with Str8 Up for the last four years, says he would be dead or in prison if it wasn’t for the help of the organizati­on. Now he’s a youth mentor and raises awareness about the importance of ending domestic violence.

“Because of Str8 Up I do that stuff,” he says.

“I just don’t understand why we don’t get the funding we need.”

Poilievre says some Str8 Up members such as Waskewitch and Moyah are interested in taking over the organizati­on. But that in itself won’t solve its problems. Poilievre is looking at restructur­ing Str8 Up’s governance model and is talking to a group in Saskatoon about a possible partnershi­p. The goal would be for Str8 Up to continue its work, but with support when it comes to governance.

“We need a partner. A strong partner, a committed partner,” Poilievre said.

Str8 Up received funding from the federal and provincial government­s this year for members to assist in developing a framework for a provincial gang strategy — a process that involved travelling to communitie­s across Saskatchew­an and consulting with people about what needs to be done to combat gangs in the province.

According to a report published this summer, communitie­s want a provincial gang strategy that focuses on preventing gangs as opposed to suppressin­g them; they recommend the province provide stable funding to Str8 Up so it can lead such a strategy.

Justice ministry spokeswoma­n Jennifer Graham said it remains to be seen whether that recommenda­tion will be implemente­d.

“How the Ministry supports the provincial gang strategy in the future is largely dependent on what the strategy looks like for the province and how best to resource and implement the framework at a local level,” she said in a written statement.

Poilievre said if Str8 Up got stable funding to run the strategy, it would be able to do more for its members and expand to help people outside Saskatoon. But for now, uncertaint­y remains. Even if Str8 Up gets funding to lead a provincial gang strategy, there’s no saying how long it would last.

For now, the organizati­on keeps exploring all options — and will hopefully form a partnershi­p with another organizati­on, “the sooner the better,” Poilievre said.

“We don’t have sustainabl­e funding for the next 10 years and I do suspect that there will be gangs in Saskatoon for a few years. Once there are no more gangs, then Str8 Up can disappear, that’s for sure. But right now that’s our commitment: To helping young people who are caught up in the gangs and often not by their will, but by situations and conditions, and they want out and they don’t know where to go to get out. Jail won’t help them, that’s for sure.”

 ?? KAYLE NEIS ?? Father Andre Poilievre, founder of Str8 Up, works every day to help gang members leave the life. But at 82, he says he can’t do it forever.
KAYLE NEIS Father Andre Poilievre, founder of Str8 Up, works every day to help gang members leave the life. But at 82, he says he can’t do it forever.

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