
Avenues for Justice
100 Centre Street, Room 1541
New York, NY 10013
info@avenuesforjustice.org
In August 2006, I walked into the courthouse offices of Avenues for Justice (AFJ) as the Operations Manager. I did not know then that I was walking into the work of my life.
This year, I am celebrating twenty years at AFJ. I have been sitting with that number. Twenty years is a long time in this sector. Long enough to watch everything around you change, and long enough to understand what must remain constant and consistent: the three inevitable c’s in this work.

I spent my first years working closely with the board, our Co-Founder and management to strengthen the infrastructure that allows a mission-driven organization to sustain itself: expanding the funding base, streamlining operations, developing the data systems which tell you whether what you are doing is actually working. It was behind the scenes, uncelebrated, necessary work. I loved it!

In January 2020, I was promoted to Chief Operating Officer. Within months, a pandemic shut down every in-person program we had at our two community centers in Harlem and the Lower East Side. What followed was a clarifying period (yes, another “c”.) We did not stop. We could not stop. We pivoted AFJ to virtual programming because our young people needed us to, and we built the infrastructure to make it sustainable, forward-thinking, and lasting.

Three years later, we shifted to a hybrid platform with the implementation of our HIRE Up program to supplement our court advocacy component with job readiness, workforce development, education, and mental health wellness care. We strategically grew the organization's budget, diversified how we raised revenue, resumed in-person events, deepened relationships with individual donors, and built new partnerships with corporate sponsors.
Every one of those milestones was a team effort---carried by Angel, Gamal and I, the staff team, board, partners, and supporters who showed up consistently.

This year, AFJ is 47 years strong. The young people who walked through these doors in 1979 needed the same foundation the young people walking through them today need: someone who believes in and can support them with pathways to resources. My job is to make sure that belief never becomes institutional language. It has to stay consistent.

When I started in 2006, online fundraising was just beginning to take shape. There were no peer-to-peer campaigns, no text-to-give, no QR codes at events. Building donor relationships meant phone calls, handwritten letters, lots of sealing and mailing of envelopes, sorting through returned mail, faxing, and showing up in person. Today, a supporter in another state can give to AFJ in a matter of seconds from their phone. The infrastructure of generosity has been completely rebuilt.
Zoom did not exist. Every court appearance, every meeting with a young person and their family happened face to face, over the phone, in the neighborhood or it did not happen at all. Then 2020 arrived and rewrote what was possible. That shift stuck, and I think it made us more accessible, more innovative, not less. Remote and hybrid work has changed who nonprofits can hire and how people build careers in this field.
Funders started asking harder questions, which I believe is a good thing. Logic models, outcomes dashboards, evidence-based frameworks became the common language of the sector. AFJ tracks what works because the young people we serve deserve programs that are accountable to real results. Beyond metrics, we share real stories of our Participants.
The conversation about diversity, equity, and inclusion moved from aspirational language into structural expectation, from boards, funders, and communities. And now, in the current environment, some of that momentum is being scaled back. We are watching organizations forced to recalibrate under the pressure of the current environment. AFJ’s commitment to the young people we serve is not a trend. It is the foundation.
The young people walking through our doors are navigating the same systems, carrying the same weight, and facing the same fundamental need to resources and opportunity.
The answer AFJ gives to our young people when they ask if we believe in them has not changed. Not once in the past twenty years. And not once in the past forty-seven years. Yes, we believe in you.
The court involvement. The trauma underneath it. The brilliance and resilience that too often goes unseen by a system designed to be punitive rather than supportive. All of it is still there. All of it still calls for the same response: presence, accountability, advocacy, and the kind of sustained investment that says we are not going anywhere.
Last year in 2025, AFJ served close to 700 young people across 48 New York City Council districts. Those numbers tell me the need for alternative to incarceration services has not shrunk. It has grown.

Organizations that survive disruption are not the ones that remain stagnant. They are the ones that know that change is inevitable and necessary. AFJ has adapted to every shift in technology, funding, culture, and crisis over the past two decades. We have had to. But our mission and our values have not bent.
I am proud of that. I am proud of every board member, partner, donor, and young person who has been part of this work. I am so proud of Gamal, Brian, Nelson, Elsie, Wes, Shantel, Julia, Edison, Messiah, Jalil, Stephanie, and Lissette. They are the reason that the anchor holds steadily and the AFJ movement continues.
Thank you for twenty years of showing up alongside us. Thank you for twenty years of championing our youth and young adults. Yes, the elements continue to be tough, but we’ve proven that we can weather the storms. I hope you will keep going with us.
In partnership,

Liz Frederick
Executive Director