July 17, 2001 The National Post

How the kids of Regent Park got all those computers
Business shows its social side with success

Joe Fiorito, City columnist
National Post

At the far end of the parking lot there is a string of fat, bright balloons tied to a chain-link fence.
Kids with juice-stained lips race around in the heat; moms and dads mill about, cameras slung
around their necks. It's graduation day at the 310 Centre on Gerrard, across the street from
Regent Park.

In a building next to the parking lot, downstairs where it's cool, an instructor hovers over 31
computers, keyboards and sets of cables; there are red velvet bows stuck on the monitors and
the keyboards are wrapped with ribbons. The instructor fusses with a bow; she counts the
computers for the umpteenth time. It wouldn't do to be short; the computers are for the grads.
They are not presents.

They've been earned.

It's a long story.

Two years ago, the people who run the 310 Centre -- an arm of the Yonge Street Mission -- asked
some of their corporate donors a simple question: "If we were to train a group of Regent Park
women to do data-processing, would you hire them?"

Good question.

One of the businessmen said, "We can get data processors smarter, younger and fresh out of
school. Forget the moms. Teach the kids."

Not exactly the answer they were looking for but one which led to another question: How do you
teach the kids in Regent Park to use computers when they have less access to computers than
kids in any other neighbourhood in the city? Further, what's the point of teaching kids computer
skills if they don't have computers at home?

So the people who run the 310 Centre put the touch on some of their corporate friends for a
donation of used computers. The computers were a bit out-of-date, a bit underpowered, but
somebody knew a guy who runs a program teaching people to repair computers; a deal was cut --
we'll give you two computers, you do the upgrades and give us one back.

Okay, that takes care of the computers. Now for the kids.

The people from the 310 Centre talked to some Regent Park school teachers and put a proposition
on the desk: Find us some kids who are, shall we say, bored stiff because they're bright, or
otherwise in danger of losing interest and dropping out, and we'll teach them top-notch skills for
free. Eleven weeks, two classes a week -- if they do the work and pass a test, they graduate and
they get to keep their computers, no strings attached; ribbons and bows attached.

This is the sixth graduation.

Over the past two years, more than 200 computers have been given out; one of the big Internet
service providers has donated 100 certificates to kids who graduate from the advanced class;
those grads get 10 years' free access to the Internet -- long enough to take them to university.
Families sign an agreement not to misuse access and to share it within the family.

Hmm. Plain, old-fashioned social gospel? Good corporate citizenship? Or simply the niftiest bit of
community development you've heard of so far this year? Call it what you will.

Valedictorians for the sixth computer literacy class are Nishanthiga Gobalasundaranathan -- "You
can call me Nisha!" -- and her best friend, Paraniga Rajeswaran. They are teens, smart and shy
and funny, best friends who phone each other several times a day. And send each other e-mails.
And hang out. They wrote their speech together and read it together, alternating lines. They were
afraid they'd get the giggles; they did not.

I had a brief word with Paraniga's dad, Thamboo. He's a factory worker, proud of his daughter.
Does he know how to use a computer? He laughs. "No!"

Nisha's mom, Satkunadevi, is a seamstress. Will her daughter teach her how to use a computer?
She laughs. "Yes!"

When the speeches were over, and the juice and chips were gone, there was an hour of chaos as
grads, parents, brothers and sisters struggled to carry their computers home -- don't drop that
monitor, don't lose that ribbon.