When Eyvette Jones worked as a television producer, she had the chance to hobnob with Hollywood’s elite. But, even after working with celebrities like Vanessa Williams, Sharon Osbourne, and Orlando Jones, it was four inner-city mothers who had the greatest effect on her life.
These women weren’t famous or flashy, but their stories would completely change Jones’ outlook. In 2001, Jones was asked to produce a piece for the Essence Awards profiling these four women, all of whom had one tragedy in common: They had lost their children to inner-city violence.
The nature of the story was completely new to Jones, who had mostly focused on “celebrity stuff and lighter fare.” She could never have predicted the profound effect the project would have on her.
“Those women and that story changed my life,” she said. “I would shoot during the day, then come home and cry in my hotel room at night.”
The germ of an idea came to her during a conversation with one of those women. What if she were to create a program that helped people in need transform themselves and their lives? As part of her television work, Jones had done a lot of makeovers, and had always loved the transformation that they brought about in the people who received them.
“I got to see people with a different level of confidence, and a different perception of what was possible. Some of those women would go back to school, lose weight, or get rid of that deadbeat husband or boyfriend,” Jones said. “Self image is the key to change, especially when you’re trying to pull yourself up from poverty. Learning to drive a forklift is important, but believing you’re worthy of it and knowing that you can achieve something bigger with your life is important too.”
Urban Possibilities started out collecting professional clothing through clothing drives and distributing it to organizations working with people in need. But it wasn’t long before Jones realized that she wanted to do more. While men and women were trying on the outfits she helped assemble, they noticeably “lit up.” But, as soon as the moment passed and the remaining clothes were packed away, that light in their eyes began to fade.
“I wanted to help people turn that light on and start self-generating it from the inside out,” Jones said.
That was the beginning of Urban Possibilities’ artistic programs, which are provided through the partnership of Jones and Jackie Wolf, who previously founded a nonprofit called Healing Art. The organization now provides workshops and classes on writing, theatre and visual art, each of which focuses on transforming participants’ self-image and helping them turn on that light. People who are homeless or living in poverty participate in these workshops to tell their stories and discover abilities within themselves that they may not have previously known existed.
“We want people to see new possibilities in their lives, and these programs let them achieve something they never thought they could do,” Jones said. “We also want the community to see those possibilities too, and break down the stereotypes of what poor or homeless people can achieve. When you talk about homeless people, many people think of the mentally ill guy on the corner or the addict under the bridge, and that’s just not always the case.”
When Urban Possibilities launched its first Published Writers program, there was a homeless man named Michael who lingered outside the classroom every day but never came in. After several weeks, Jones coaxed him to join the class with the promise that he could leave whenever he wanted if he didn’t enjoy himself.
Michael was a born writer. In the two and a half years since he participated in the program, he has moved into permanent housing, self-published a novel and been interviewed on television.
“In the class we create community, and stress that it’s a safe place,” Jones said. “Most of the men in the class were fathers, and most of them were separated from their children. One night, some of the guys were talking about the class, then started talking about their children.”
The conversation got Michael thinking, and later he put his feelings about his own estranged daughter and his personal transformation into a poem, entitled, “As Fathers Rise.”
I can still see her so clearly,
big brown eyes and tiny feet.
The light weight of her on my chest
as we both would fall asleep.
Memories of her mother’s tummy.
Memories of my daughter and me,
bring joy but now guilt and shame
keep joy close company.
You see I’ve fallen as her father.
Yet the truth seems to be,
that this was necessary
to correct my deficiency.
To be a strong provider,
make her smile, and meet her needs,
I first must trust in God Our Father
to do the same for me.
Seek Him early each morning,
His direction to guide me,
with prayer and perseverance
I will keep growing steadily.
And I will see her again so clearly.
Older now, same big brown eyes,
that once saw her father fallen
and now has seen her father rise.



