Every other month, as I write this column, I think about who might read it. Do urban youth ministry workers see it? Do youth ministers in the suburbs or in rural areas skip by the column, seeking articles they think speak more to their context of ministry?

I don’t wrestle with these questions because I need affirmation that people are reading what I write. I’m wrestling with two bigger issues.

PRIVILEGE AND SEGREGATION
One is the issue of the true credibility of urban youth ministry.

Is there a division now between what would be considered mainstream youth ministry—a model based on ministering in a predominately European American and suburban context—and youth ministry in an inner-city context, dominated by other ethnic groups, specifically African American, Latino and Asian?

I recently had a conversation with someone in a regional leadership position with an international parachurch organization. He described suburban youth as the kids in the front of the line and urban youth as the kids in the back of the line. I think I understand what he was trying to say. But it sounded like describing urban youth ministry, and urban youth in particular, as second class. That could lead to a picture of victimization placed on urban youth ministry. For those doing ministry outside the urban context, that would enforce a state of segregation within youth ministry. The suburban youth become the youth of privilege, and urban youth (at least in the eyes of those of privilege) become the targets of charity work and short-term mission trips.

My point here is, the way in which urban youth ministry is portrayed—or segregated from what would be perceived as mainstream youth ministry based on a suburban context—could cause those in suburban youth ministry to see what is going on in urban America as being irrelevant to their kids. To this perception I would disagree wholeheartedly.

I have made the case on many occasions that urban youth culture is influencing the youth culture as a whole. (See Patricia Hersch’s A Tribe Apart (Ballantine, 1999, which made the point way before I did.) I’m not saying this is good; I’m saying it’s true. The suburban youth minister could learn a lot about their kids by taking time to understand what’s going on in urban youth culture.

But as long as urban youth ministry is presented as second class, this will not be the case.

I challenge you to read the advertisements in this very journal, you will see a number of national youth ministry organizations that are content with putting on events, conferences, camps, and festivals where all the bands, speakers and principle ideas and theologies are European American. How does this benefit youth ministry in an ever-increasing multi-ethnic and multicultural world?

RACE, CLASS, AND RESOURCES
This leads to the second point I’m wrestling with. What really is the difference between urban and suburban youth ministry?

I’m coming more and more to the conclusion that the answer is, not much.

The issue, though, is the significance found in that “not much.”

Sex, violence, insecurity, feelings of neglect, and abandonment are issues that all youth wrestle with. (Check out Chap Clark’s book Hurt). The “not much” I am referring to includes issues of class, race and resources.

Inner cities lack the resources and the networks to address or cover up these issues in the way suburbs can. Greater metropolitan areas are segregated by class and race. In turn, this societal segregation influences the urban, suburban and even rural segregation that exists within youth ministry today.

The answer lies in youth ministry making justice, a holistic approach to reconciliation, and a move from mission trips based on charity to a life of servanthood and stewardship priorities. My hope is to break down walls within youth ministry to the point that the urban take on youth ministry can be a useful tool to all.