When the inaugural group of trainees showed up for their first day of a program designed to transform both the future of San Francisco's Gleneagles Golf Course as well as some of the city's most at-risk residents, it was not long before the group realized that this would be no ordinary job.
"Seven people showed up, and four of them had their pants pulled down around their hips," said Tom Hsieh, who holds the management contract on the city-owned property located on the edge of one of San Francisco's most crime-plagued neighborhoods. "That's how people dress on the streets. It might be appropriate in some circles, but it's not appropriate on our job site."
And the group's trainer Ken Mochida, a former U.S. Marine who also grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in nearby San Leandro, let them know that to be a success at work and in life they would have to learn to change how they dress and how they act.
"People perceive you as you present yourself," said Mochida, in his fourth year as a trainer for the Laborers International Union of North America. "If you want to be perceived as a professional, you have to present yourself as a professional."
The pre-apprentice training program known officially as the Mario de la Torre Training Academy, is a collaborative effort that includes a host of city and county agencies (parks alliance, public utilities commission, public works, housing authority, department of environment, chief administrator's office, board of supervisors, mayor's office, unified school district), the chamber of commerce and the Northern California District Council of Laborers. Members of each of those groups were on hand June 10 at Gleneagles to help dedicate the program in its namesake's honor.
Named for a San Francisco labor union icon, the academy's goal is to equip at-risk residents with training and skills needed to be successful at work and in life. It also avails downtrodden Gleneagles of cost-effective labor for daily maintenance. The partnership has secured financing to pay 80 workers during the first year of the program. Trainees will rotate through Gleneagles in groups of six to 12 for a period of six weeks each before they are eligible to move into more advanced union training. The first group of seven trainees recently graduated, with five of them moving on to an apprentice-training program for the construction industry.
Although the city owns Gleneagles, it provides little if any financial assistance for things like mowing and spraying, virtually all of which has been funded by Hsieh's company. The partnership forged with the Northern California District Council of Laborers is currently the only thing separating a golf course that remains playable well into the future and one that is not.
The program also is the only thing that stands between a lifetime of bad choices and a chance to succeed in life for many of the trainees. Hsieh believes the program could be duplicated at other urban layouts with similar problems.
"The current way of doing business is not a sustainable model here," Hsieh said. "I've been thinking of ways that a golf course can be repurposed for the greater good. There are a lot of different things you can do, one is this training academy. I think the training academy will be successful and allow the golf course to be here for another generation of golfers."
Among those on hand for the dedication was San Francisco Mayor Eddie Lee.
"You look at this facility, in years past it was pretty run down. . . . And for rec and parks, this was a drag on your monies, your limited amount of maintenance monies," Lee said. "Yet again, it's in a city where we host PGA tournaments on a world-class basis at Harding Park. So why can't a golf course sitting next to Sunnyvale public housing in the southeast sector of the city do better than just survive?
"More and more, we are presented with these unique opportunities to do something different, something innovative, something inspirational and still fulfill a long, long promise to the residents in this neighborhood that you can be part of this city and be successful at the same time."
Candidates for the union training program typically are minorities from San Francisco's worst neighborhoods, including the area around Sunnyvale. Many grew up in single-parent homes and lack the discipline, accountability and skills needed to communicate effectively in a professional environment. Gang activity and run-ins with the police are common. Mochida is out to change all of that.
On the first day of training, he reminds each worker that class begins promptly at 7 a.m. Anyone who arrives at 7:01 is dismissed from the program. Profanity and slang are not tolerated. Saying "please" and "thank you" are expected.
"The pre-apprenticeship program places a high emphasis on discipline and respect for yourself and for others," Mochida said. "A lot of these people did not grow up with any discipline or structure or manners that others would find commonplace.
"I treat them with respect to help build them up, but I have to break them of their bad habits, too. Make no mistake about it: I am very strict with them. This program gives them the skills to thrive on the job site and in life."
And the trainees respond. Rather than reject the military-like demands placed on them, they embrace them by showing up early and following instructions to the letter.
"You'd be amazed how many love the discipline," Mochida said. "They need it.
"A lot of these job sites are in areas where they have to interact with other people, not just people they work with. They have to be able to coexist with everyone. That is our overall goal, to give them the work ethic, soft skills, teamwork skills to be able to be on a job site and stay on a job site."
When you are in a gang environment, it is eat or get eaten. ... You have to get away from that environment."
Mochida has credibility with the trainees because his background is not a lot unlike their own.
Growing up in San Leandro, Mochida resisted the temptation to join a gang, but many of his friends did not. The difference, he said, was his father, Tooru Mochida, who instilled discipline and integrity despite the surroundings. The Marines was a ticket out of town.
"When you are in a gang environment, it is eat or get eaten," Mochida said. "I tell these trainees that the hardest thing you will ever have to do is to separate yourself from your friends. I tell them not to spend their money, but to save it until they can move. You have to get away from that environment."
Hsieh has seen other public jobs projects fail because they provide a vocation, but no training
Innovative programs that promote the business of golf while also serving the public could represent the future for similar facilities struggling to survive in an urban environment, said Hsieh, who is active in San Francisco politics as a campaign advisor for many public-service causes.
"We are creative, and we have good partnerships. There are a lot of programs that spend millions to create jobs, but do not prepare people for a career. Most programs give people a fish rather than teach them how to fish.
"You can't walk in the door and interview properly if you don't have that skill set. We can teach them to rake bunkers and repair fuel lines. But you'll never get a job if can't interview because you can't talk to people."