Annotations for People: Lobet-ingrid

Outside the old school building, a dozen kids are shooting hoops as a cool night begins to fall across the city of Seattle.

As 6:30 approaches, the kids file into the classroom from the ball court. Others come in from elsewhere, looking tired. Whether tired or full of energy, the 15 kids in this room are here by choice. They've come because here they can put heart into words.

Martinez, Armando (Man) has been coming to El Centro for several months now.

The kids' hands shoot into the air. They can't wait to comment. Their comments encourage, but also suggest certain word changes or changes in delivery. Armando's own older sister has a comment for him. I liked your poem, hijo, she says, it was really good. I like the way you read really slow.

But even the support that fills this room isn't enough for 16-year-old Glenda Arenas on her first night. When it comes time for her to read the poem she's just written, she hangs her head, her long dark hair, mostly covering her face. Her voice begins, barely audible.

This first night, Glenda can't finish. Another girl comes over, stands by her, and finishes the poem.

Roberto Maestas has directed El Centro for 20 years. He's seen a good number of the 74 children who've spent time in the workshops changed by them. Some are getting better grades, some are being invited to recite poetry at rallies and banquets.

15-year-old Sandra Martinez says it was in the poetry workshops that she learned to be confident enough to assume that position of leadership.

The poets of El Centro, known as Hope for Youth, now have a book, it's called Words Up. And the kids are getting more and more attention, some even nationally and internationally. Just recently, Hope for Youth received an invitation from the government of Chile to travel there this summer. For Latino USA, I'm Ingrid Lobet in Seattle.

Perched in the cramped broadcast booth, Publio Castro handles the play by play.

Castro has worked to establish a style that's his own. He always knew he wanted to work in broadcasting, even when he was a child doing farm work in California. Through their hard work, his parents made it possible for him to go to college.

Castro and his brother started a talk radio show in a small town in Oregon. And when a producer came looking for talent to host Portland Trailblazer basketball, he didn't have to look very far.

When Cliff Zahner heard Castro's show, he knew he had a place for him. Zahner makes a business of persuading teams to air games in Spanish. He then identifies stations that broadcast in Spanish and whose formats could benefit from the games. Then he provides them the games for free.

The Mariners' team alone has Omar Vizquel, Edgar Martínez, and coach Lou Piniella. By giving Spanish-language interviews, these players are now able to reach another audience. And Randy Adamack, Vice President of Communications for the Seattle Mariners, says advertisers are slowly taking interest.

If advertisers stick with the games and if the present trend continues, there will be few professional teams in the Northwest that aren't broadcasting in Spanish. It's tentative, but as football training camp begins, there are plans to make fall 1993 the first season for Seattle Seahawks games in Spanish.

For "Latino USA," I'm Ingrid Lobet in Seattle.