In the summer of 1993, Denver's infamous summer of violence, I officiated at a funeral for Jorge, a young Latino teen murdered after a traffic confrontation sparked by cars of youth flashing gang signs. Jorge (not his real name) was 13.

Jorge had been living on the streets after his mother died and his father's girlfriend had moved into the family home.

Jorge's funeral packed our small inner-city church with youth wearing blue- and red-colored gang-style clothing. Noticeably missing that night were members of his family or any other adult who was part of his life.

Jorge was another disconnected child abandoned to the harsh realities of street life.

I spoke to those youth that night about a "gang leader" named Jesus, executed 2,000 years ago for his work with the oppressed and forgotten people of his day.

Since that funeral, over the years I have seen many young people show up at the church with promise, enthusiasm and dreams only to see the same people years later working dead-end jobs, parenting children from multiple partners and committing violent acts only the most desperate would consider.

The inner city can be an unforgiving place for awkward youth from dysfunctional families. My 13-year- old daughter's best friend lives with wounds on both her arms and chest after an assault rifle nearly cut her life short as she slept in her bedroom one night last summer.

I have wept privately with the shooter and his family as he now faces 189 years behind bars, essentially for the rest of his life. As a friend of mine recently said to me, "Human life is cheap when there is no hope."

Hope has been an elusive chase for many of the young people in our community. The dropout rate for Latinos in Denver area public high schools ranks among the very highest in the nation and poor school performance continues to plague inner-city kids.

That is why I was thrilled when our church board voted to update a section of our building to start a Hope Co-op Learning Center for high-risk kids.

As word hit the street we received calls from parents who spoke of struggling children and unresponsive schools. When our learning center opened this September, we settled for 15 children, most of them kindergartners.

Our first two students to enroll were from a Spanish-speaking family whose mother was frustrated that she was not welcome to participate in her son's public school.

At our learning center, she has been a valuable volunteer assisting in the classroom with some of our Spanish-speaking students, and cooking our staff some of the finest Mexican food this side of the Rio Grande.

Our school has a warm, safe and intimate family feel parents want.

Our mentor has served as a teacher's aide for years in public schools and brings a vast wealth of knowledge and experience wrapped up in a caring and loving personality.

Her daughter, a Top 10 graduate from West High School in 2004, works five hours a day in our center as her assistant.

Our student-to-adult ratio ensures individual attention, something our families requested and Hope Co-op promised.

Hope Co-op exists for "high risk" young people who live in homes where such convenient things as telephones and reliable transportation are not always accessible. When children don't show up at the Learning Center - like during our recent snowstorm - we go out and bring them to class.

Whatever it takes, we are committed to getting them here. Hope Co-op is about meeting the needs of the community and when that community is high-risk, excuses and unresponsive schools won't make the grade.

The Rev. Mark Lopez is a pastor at Westside Christian Fellowship. He is a resident of Lakewood.