Lake Street Ambassadors

Working at Street Level

By Evan Reminick

August 2004—Gregory Oats follows his crew down Lake Street. His territory stretches from Dupont Avenue to the river, a lot of real estate for a young man of 24 to be in charge of.

He’s big enough a guy to draw attention, but his gate is a practiced picture of nonchalance. His walk is a job skill learned on the streets. As he watches from a distance, the kids in his crew are doing what they do, working the sidewalk, representing their colors, their eyes searching the gutters and doorways.

The Lake Street Ambassadors with sponsor Ted Muller of the Lake Street Council

One spots an opportunity and is quickly on it. A stray wrapper goes in her trash bag. She moves on. Soon the 1600 block of Lake, north side, is litter free.

Fresh expectations

Oats and his crew are the Lake Street Ambassadors. Five days a week since June, in all weather, these three young men and three young women have been working the Lake Street corridor, picking up trash, communicating with the local businesses, spreading goodwill and, not insignificantly, defying expectations.

The other Ambassadors come from all over the city, a couple of them from the north side; Oats himself travels by bus from Brooklyn Park to make the strictly enforced 9 am start time.

They do the job not because picking up trash is their ambition, nor because it is the only work available for inner-city kids (though it’s close, say a couple of them). The Ambassadors know that their main role on the street is to buck the trend, to show that there are good kids who will get dirty to do something worthwhile in the community.

The special summer program grew out of an arrangement between the Lake Street Council and a handful of Lake Street businesses that joined with Abbott Northwestern Hospital to fund the idea that a few young people doing the right thing could make a clear difference on Lake Street.

Oats, who grew up deep in Chicago’s south side, says he has witnessed his share of desperation, blight and hopelessness. He has ministered in the inner city for six and a half years and his experience connecting with people shows as he guides the kids in his charge through the street scenes.

“What I’m interested in is, I want to help others understand that they can be someone in life,” he says. “Out here I have the opportunity to meet a lot of people. I only wish the job could continue past the summertime.”

Changing perceptions

The Ambassadors are a visible presence in their distinctive colors.

As Oats talks, a man even bigger than he is corrals him with an arm and spins him around. Oats goes along with the man, back the way he had come. He listens as the man talks, walking his same practiced walk as best he can though the stranger wraps him tightly in an arm and talks directly in his ear.

After a minute Oats peels away from the man and heads back toward his crew, now a block ahead.

“That guy, I see him every day out here but he’s never said anything to me. Today he wanted to know some stuff. ‘Are these kids STS [sentenced to serve]?’ ‘No.’ ‘Are they in trouble?’ ‘No.’ ‘Well, do they pay them?’ ‘Yes.’ He can’t believe it, that these kids cleaning the sidewalk are doing it voluntarily and getting paid like a regular job.

“I get the same questions every day.”

Asked whether he thinks that the Ambassadors could change people’s perceptions, he replied, “Absolutely. People look for signs of hope. It doesn’t need to be a big thing that makes a change, just something that is real to them. We’re cleaning up the street, doing people here a service. We’re out here smiling and talking to people, and that’s real.”