Several teenagers from the PACE Center for Girls greeted guests at Thursday's benefit breakfast at the Columbia Restaurant in Ybor, and some walked around passing out their own poetry.
They were all tastefully dressed and well-mannered, and they appeared happy. Minutes later, PACE executive director Nikki Daniels undressed those perceptions with some tough questions for the audience.
"Could you guess which one was raped when she was 6 years old?" Daniels asked. "Or could you tell which had not been in school for three years before she came to PACE? How about the girl who never had a true family and has lived in a car most of her life?"
I couldn't pick out any of the girls. But I came to learn how life had battered these psyches and sent them reeling into a world of depression and suicide attempts. I came to discover how PACE, a prevention program for juvenile girls, has made a life-altering difference.
So many times, the goal of advocacy groups is to set kids on the right path. PACE - an acronym for Practical Academic Cultural Education - has the more daunting task of redirecting lives already off track.
Consider the plight of Vicki Armstrong, whose daughter's journey grew increasingly more difficult with each passing day. Jessica, who was adopted by Vicki after being taken away from her natural parents and shuffled through foster homes, grew belligerent.
When she wasn't skipping school, she was starting fights and getting suspended - 19 days in a nine-week period. Jessica's behavior sliced into Vicki's work responsibilities, and the arguments at home got violent. Vicki found herself in a "hellacious world" where she slept behind a locked door at night, fearful Jessica might hurt her.
Jessica landed in the Haven Poe Runaway Shelter, but after hitting a staff member with a broom handle, she was arrested for felony battery and spent 21 days in the juvenile detention center. Vicki had the judge leave her there.
PACE was her only hope. Her last hope. But all PACE could offer was a spot on a waiting list.
Finally, a place opened. Jessica got some deserved attention. Vicki got some counseling on how to respond to Jessica's anger. Daughter blossomed and mother adjusted. Now, Jessica is on track to graduate from Wharton next year.
"PACE was everything I hoped for and so much more," Vicki told the audience. "It was our saving grace. It was an answer to my prayers."
Both mother and daughter fought through tears to give their testimonials. Many were touched, including Dr. Angela Glazer, a licensed clinical psychologist.
"Is anyone else shaking? I'm shaking," said Dr. Glazer, wife of Bucs executive vice president Joel Glazer. "That was really intense. I wish I could do more. I would love to do more. I will do more to reach out."
Dr. Glazer, who was lead sponsor of the breakfast, has become personally involved with the center. It's a perfect match: She has a background in psychology and women's health, but she also knows what it's like to battle problems as a teen. Dr. Glazer grew up with an auditory processing disability that included a touch of dyslexia.
"I relate, even though it wasn't the same," Dr. Glazer said. "When you have a learning disability, you're fighting to make it through that test or that class. I had to work five times as hard as the next person. That's life. That's real. My passion is to help them go right down the path."
Just as Dr. Glazer found the strength to overcome her disability, Daniels said PACE helps girls bring out their own strengths.
"You don't even have to deal with the negatives," Daniels said. "They fall away because instead of getting attention for the negatives, they're getting attention for the positives."
She made it sound simple, but I'm sure a 94 percent success rate doesn't come without help from the community. The center needs financial support, and the girls need role models. If you can help, call (813) 988-7223.
