More than a Place

It is difficult to write a profile of Lynne Castellanos that captures her clearly, for she is better understood by observing the energy and love she engenders. Shy and modest, she allows me to take her photo but is diverted by the immediacy of the needs of those around her. For 13 years, she and her daughter Chantalle have run an organization called Youth Empowered, and you may not have even heard of it, for Lynne has no penchant for marketing or self-promotion, but she has created a welcoming place for children, teens, weary adults, and anyone who has been injured, or pushed away, or has lost their way. 

Tucked away in a modest building in Solvang, and funded by a patchwork quilt of membership dues, donations, and small grants, Youth Empowered is a gym with facilities for sports and fitness, but there are also comfortable spaces for tutoring, small group study sessions, homeschool groups, and summer school support. Music and art enrichment classes are supported by volunteers, many of whom are retired educators. 

The result is a wonderfully motley convergence of people who might not easily fit in elsewhere: teens navigating tricky sections of their lives, autistic adults, little kids, an elderly man taking tentative steps with the assistance of a young volunteer. The ideals by which Lynne lives her life are reflected in everything that happens here: it is a culture of compassion, integrity, and connection. Participants are encouraged to contribute positively to their community, and in this sense, there is a ripple effect.

“Community is more than a place,” Lynne says, “more than the streets that lead to my house, more than the neighboring houses and offices. In my mind, ‘community’ refers to the people you rely on, and who rely on you, like-minded people who band together in a multitude of ways to make the world a better, safer, more inviting place, especially for those who are less capable, more fragile, less sure.”

Lynne spent much of her childhood on military bases in Germany, where her father was Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force, but she eventually found her way to California and studied Animal Science at UC Davis. This led to a job on a horse ranch in the Santa Ynez Valley, and the Valley is where she settled, at one point running a children’s clothing store, tutoring and mentoring local kids, and managing the office at Dunn Middle School, where she was basically everyone’s “mom.” 

But the opening of Youth Empowered was the culmination of a long-held dream for Lynne: the provision of a safe and empowering environment where people of all ages, particularly at-risk youth, can find a sense of belonging and focus on physical and emotional health as well as academic success. The organization’s tagline, “in the gym, in the classroom, and in the community,” reflects the mind-body-soul connection that is nurtured here.

I have glimpsed Lynne early in the morning unloading her car to get ready for the day; I have seen her encouraging a timid bench-press beginner; I have watched her patiently helping a fledgling reader discover words. I recall when we were colleagues at Dunn Middle School, how often she told kids that integrity was doing the right thing whether or not anyone was watching, and reminding them that nothing was more important than kindness and respect. Lynne has adhered to those values for as long as I have known her.

On the Saturday morning I stopped by to interview her, a yard sale fundraiser was in progress, and one of the high school students who was helping came over to talk to me, of his own volition. He was a junior named Jack, and he wanted me to know that Lynne and Youth Empowered had absolutely changed his life, no exaggeration. Okay, he acknowledged, maybe for him it started with weightlifting, but it became much bigger than that. “I gained confidence,” he said. “This place gives me a sense of possibility.”

The day felt festive. Shoppers browsed through racks of clothing and stacks of books, kids tried out scooters and secondhand toys, locals visited, and now and then, a bicycle tourist wandered in. Sales were not exactly brisk, but an optimistic mood prevailed.

I wondered, in these discouraging times, how Lynne manages to be so consistently present and supportive, and I asked her what her current state of mind is. “My mind has taken wild swings lately,” she admits. “I seem to alternate between despondence and determination, and I’m never quite sure, moment to moment, where I will be. But at the end of the day, determination and hopefulness usually win out.”

I ventured my favorite question, too: What gives you hope?

“Hope arises when I see the spark come back into someone’s eye,” she replied. “Just recently, I watched a painfully shy 7-year-old boy jumping rope and doing shoulder rolls, laughing and boxing and engaging with the high school students who volunteer their time to teach the class. Two weeks earlier, this little boy had been too withdrawn to say his name out loud or make eye contact. He gives me hope, as do a dozen other kids and adults finding confidence and a sense of belonging.”

Lynne Castellanos herself embodies hope. She navigates the world with unwavering decency and diligence. And it suddenly seems so simple: Do the right thing, share, and be kind. A  quiet, steady form of resistance.