Staff members must be available round the clock to deal with the needs of the neighborhood. Much of their work has focused on helping ex-offenders assimilate back into society, but it reaches across a wide spectrum of the city's challenges.
"If we decide we gonna leave this place," youth counselor Nickey Buchanan, 28, says matter-of-factly about what keeps her motivated, "the crime rate will go back up."
Wilson has been involved with Rose Street for about six years, after serving prison time for handgun and conspiracy convictions. He made the Project Exile list of dangerous gun offenders, a program that intensified scrutiny of his behavior and gave him little room for error. And he was picked up as recently as last month on a second-degree assault charge.
But the East Baltimore native was not motivated to change as much by police pressure as by the murder three years ago of one of his closest friends, a fellow Blood member.
Bloods killing Bloods, people fighting over gang colors, recruiting children as young as 11 - it wasn't supposed to be this way, he said. Wilson, who said he was a "general" with the Bloods, one of the highest-ranking members in the area, traveled to California to negotiate his exit from the gang with top leaders.
His ascension to youth coordinator for Rose Street and the intervention work he performs represent a shift in the center's mission, Guyton said.
"We have to meet the needs of the neighborhood, and if something is outdated, you have to change it," Guyton said. "Black is a part of that creative method, if you will, to reach more youth in our community."
At a recent meeting, Wilson asks the young men what saving a life means to them. Devon Scarborough, a quiet man in a hooded sweat shirt cautiously raises his hand.
"Saving a life is trying to encourage another brother to turn away from not caring about nothing, to positive encouragement," he says.
Scarborough is holding a composition notebook stuffed with papers, including a business plan he drafted and has asked Wilson to review. The 25-year-old, who has sold drugs in the past, says that for years he has sought out community groups that would help him get his plans off the ground, but he often found himself stymied.
"I have goals, but not too many people are open to listening to them," he says. "There's something about Baltimore - people don't encourage you."
