PAL program teaches kids value of karate. It´s a time-tested formula: Take a group of youngsters from the toughest neighborhoods, bus them to a gym, teach them karate. They kick, punch, and bow. They sweep the competition at the big meet, capturing nearly every trophy in sight.

 

It´s usually the stuff movies are made of. But Andre Hernandez said that in this case, he´s not surprised by the real-life happy ending he has helped to bring about for a group of Paterson kids who became pint-sized Bruce Lees.
 

Even before the karate lessons, "half these kids know how to fight," Hernandez said. The trick was "teaching them when to fight."

 

Hernandez, 39, owns a grocery store at East 19th Street and Park Avenue, a rough neighborhood, but he´s not your typical grocer. He´s a fourth-degree black belt in tae kwon do, and teaches youngsters on his own time at the Paterson Police Athletic League on River Street.

 

"My yellow belts (beginners) are better than most black belts," he said.

Hernandez taught karate at a church on East 27th Street from 1990 to 1994 as a means of instilling discipline in neighborhood youngsters. The church pastor, Rev. Charles McComb, even took lessons. "He was good, very good." Hernandez recalled. "He also won many trophies in competition. He was tough."

Hernandez then moved his classes to the back of his store also taught karate to some of the hand-to-hand combat instructors at the Paterson Police Academy.

Police Detective Steven Olimpio, executive director of the city´s PAL program, heard about Hernandez and enlisted him this year.
 

"He came here with six to eight kids, then build the program to 25 kids, boys and girls, ages 6 to 16. Now, we run three classes. That´s all we can take," Olimpio said.

In his six years as executive director, Olimpio has watched the enrollment in various Pal programs grow form 300 to about 5,000 youngsters, testament to the need for after-school activities for the city´s youth. Olimpio said that karate programs give youngsters more to do than "exercising their fingers on video games."

But it´s not easy. "I don´t play with them", said Hernandez, who lives in Lincoln Park but grew up in a tough Paterson neighborhood. "My whole thing is I don´t care if I get 50 to 100 people, I want to train them the way I was trained: It was rough."

"I was brought up under the discipline and strictness of my (karate instructor) and I follow the same tradition." Hernandez said. "There was no I´m not going to do it." You had to do it". My teacher was the kind of guy who would say we´re going to do "100 kicks and we´d do 100". "That was positive influence on me. It showed I could do it."

Hernandez´s classes are full contact, and they stress mutual accountability.
 

"The good thing about karate is that there´s more structure," he said.

"It's like a family. Somebody messes up, they all pay (with extra drills). It´s a team. That´s why at the end of class we hug, we shake hands."

Hernandez said he accepts youngsters into the program only if they are ready for the sport.
 

"If the kid doesn´t want to do it, I tell the parent "Put him in something else," he said.

Anna Delgado said her son, Andre, 6 fell in love with the sport the minute he stepped onto a mat. Andre, who took first in form demonstration and technique at the Mahwah meet, is a yellow belt, one step up from the beginner´s white belt. Delgado said she actually wanted her other son, Alberto, 11, to try karate. But it was Andre who joined up. "Ohmigod, he was excited," she said.

"He's good. It shows you a lot of discipline, respect", said Ricky Grullon, 14, a ninth-grader and green-belt. Grullon said Hernandez keeps track of his student´s grades, and if they fall short, the student can expect to do pushups. "That motivates you to do better," said Grullon.

Diane Pittman said karate had taught her sixth-grade daughter, Ashley Thompson, 11, discipline and flexibility. "She´s even picking up speed as far as pushups and walking," said Pittman.
 

Asked why she wanted to learn karate, Ashley offered an 11-year old girl´s perspective on getting an upper hand: "I want to beat up boys," she said.