Twilight Bey’s early experience of antisocial behaviour was as a peacemaker between two gun-toting gangs in Los Angeles. So he didn’t blink when a housing trust in Kensington & Chelsea wanted someone to sort out a few difficulties of their own. Saba Salman reports in the first of a series on frontline workers who make a difference.

Twilight Bey, 35, youth engagement services manager for Kensington Housing Trust in London, grew up among the gangs and guns of South Central Los Angeles.

At 14 he was arrested for carrying a weapon, but an opportunity to do community work changed his life completely. He now runs the trust’s Pathways 2 Progress project, which tackles antisocial behaviour.

Tell us about your project

We run a one-to-one mentoring service for 12- to 19-year-olds who are socially excluded and at risk of offending. We have about 30 volunteer mentors and also run courses. An engineering course gives young people the skills to run a community radio station, for instance. Unemployment is almost three times the national average in Golborne, the part of Kensington & Chelsea the project covers, and we want to help these young men meet their aspirations.

What makes it different?

When the project was launched in 2001 it was pretty much just mentoring. Today it is so much more. We encourage young people to decide about their future themselves rather than telling them what to do. I see myself not as a youth worker but as a “social intervention specialist”. Our skills are different to those of a youth worker, because we’re skilled in mentoring and in social literacy. This is about knowing who I am, what I am, how to live, the personal development of a human being in relation to social status.

What’s your background?

My father was a Vietnam veteran and eventually the demons of drug addiction caused him to leave home. We lived in South Central Los Angeles and I was raised to be non-violent but I quickly learned that those who could defend themselves had fewer problems. I took up martial arts but I didn’t pick fights or bully people. At 14 I faced prison for carrying a weapon – an ice pick – to protect myself. Because I had never harmed anyone and had good grades, I wasn’t charged. When cocaine came to the ghettos, I didn’t get involved in selling but a lot of my peers did – many died in gun fights. When I saw that, I felt there was something wrong.

So is that how you got into community work?

When I was 18 a community group held a talk about tackling violence and I talked about the gangs. They designated me youth spokesperson. Then I got involved with guys from other neighbourhoods and we started a movement for peace between the two largest gangs, the Bloods and the Crips. I got death threats for this – strangers would come to my house with guns and call me outside – but I was able to talk situations down.

We encourage young people to decide their future themselves. We don’t tell them what to do

When did you decide to move to the UK?

I started coming to Britain in 1994 on tours of community groups to talk about the effects of drugs and gangs. During this time I met my wife. I moved here in 2001 with the idea of studying British culture and history, but the situation with gun violence in the UK was intensifying and I felt I could help. At first I was a consultant for community groups. When this job was advertised in 2003, I knew I could bring something to it.

What sort of young people do you work with?

Young people who live in a KHT home or in a community where the trust has homes. They either self-refer, or are referred by schools, housing officers, a youth-offending team or the council’s youth worker project. It’s voluntary but they’re often at risk of an antisocial behaviour order, subject to an ASBO, have a police caution or have committed a non-violent offence.

What happens to a young person on the scheme?

First we make an appointment for them to find out about the project and tell us what they’re interested in. Some want a place to hang out, others want to learn a skill.

They have weekly two-hour sessions with a mentor to talk about anything from school to family issues. The mentors have a handbook on local facilities and help young people to access other services.

Our volunteers are tenants or local business people. They must be honest, committed, non-judgmental and good communicators and listeners. But we don’t expect them to be perfect – humans make mistakes and it’s easy for adults to forget that some people with respectable jobs might have been that kid who punctured a tyre on your estate.

Why is a housing association running this type of project?

Strangers came to my house with guns, but I was able to talk them down

Housing officers are in a unique position to monitor young people and identify those experiencing problems.

Tenancy support officers work with adult tenants but they may come across children in those families who are getting involved in nuisance activities. They can make referrals to us about young people they’re concerned about.

Isn’t mentoring expensive?

It can cost £30,000 trying to get an ASBO.

Our budget per young person is between £1500 and £2000 – a drop in the ocean in comparison.

Tell us about a young person who you’ve helpedWe had a 15-year-old who had dropped out of school. He’d been cautioned for hanging out with the wrong crowd, abusing drugs.

His mentor helped improve his reading and helped him back to school. Now he wants to be a vet. In the past 18 months we’ve helped 35 young people like him.

What has your job taught you?

To believe – in the work I do, the people I work with, that senior management care about what I do. I’d be very cynical otherwise.