As people filed in for the premiere of Here We Grow — a short film by Karl Mattson of 542films, put on in collaboration with Friends of Hudson Youth, The Spark of Hudson, and the Hudson Film Festival — I felt pure, unfiltered excitement. Since I was facilitating a panel after the screening, I’d already seen an early cut that completely wrecked me in the best way. I laughed, I cried, and I finished watching feeling profoundly grateful to live in a place that serves its young people with such dignity and care. From my spot near the door, I watched youth workers, teachers, nonprofit leaders, elders, and kids themselves pour in to celebrate the department that had shaped so many of them.
About fifteen minutes before showtime, a new feeling took root — nerves. Not about the panel, but about the room capacity. As Executive Director of The Spark of Hudson (for just a few more weeks), I hadn’t seen the space this packed before. I did a quick headcount: ninety-two people. We were pushing it. We made sure to give clear announcements about exits, then rolled ahead with what had turned into a standing-room premiere.
Karl Mattson, the filmmaker, said a few words before the lights went down — about what it was like to spend his summer around Oakdale Camp, filming the kids and the staff who make it such a special place. I found myself moved not only by the film itself but by Karl’s curiosity and care. He’s relatively new to Hudson, but this is exactly the kind of entry every community hopes for — one grounded in listening, learning, and genuine connection. His work reflects what it means to arrive somewhere not to capture a story but to become part of it.
Watching Here We Grow in community was even more magical than I expected. Several of the kids featured in the film were in the audience — my daughter, Poppy, among them — and the crowd erupted each time one of them appeared on screen. We laughed together at moments like Mayor Johnson slowly dribbling a basketball across the Youth Department court. We cried together, especially when youth leader Todd Smith said, “These kids don’t need discipline; they need love.” And we learned together, carried by the words of Pat Maloy, who reminded us that trying to quantify the impact of youth programming is a fool’s errand. Some things — like belonging, care, and hope — can’t be measured in numbers.
After the eighteen minutes of the film flew by, we moved into the panel. Our four guests represented the living history of the Hudson Youth Department. Sheriff-elect Jackie Salvatore — a local leader who attended the Youth Department back when it was still the Hudson Boys Club and, eventually, the Boys and Girls Club when girls were first allowed to join. Pat Maloy, a longtime teacher and coach who both attended and worked at the Youth Department, mentoring countless kids over the years. Todd Smith, a community leader who came up through the program himself, took on a leadership role early, and continues to give back to this community today. And Calvin Lewis, the current Youth Department Director — who, like so many before him, started as a kid in the program and returned as a counselor and now leader.
Each shared their favorite memories of the Youth Department — the people who shaped them, the lessons they learned, and their hopes for the next generation. Before long, what began as a Q&A turned into a true community conversation. Audience members stood up to thank the panelists, to reflect on the state of youth work in Hudson, to ask how we can do better for our kids. The youth themselves spoke too: one young man from Jamaica shared how welcomed and looked after he’s felt since moving here; another young woman spoke about how proud she is to be from Hudson — to be related to the very people who make the Youth Department what it is. It was a rare kind of civic joy, a diverse group of people sharing their experiences, learning from each other, and witnessing each other’s delight.
And yet — despite the spirit of the night — I still feel a local disconnect. The Youth Department’s budget was cut last month, in what seems to be, at least in part, an administrative error. The budget presented to the Common Council omitted two full-time salary lines, including one for a role that’s already filled. Calvin Lewis is now working to correct the mistake and reinstate those positions. The situation has sparked broader conversations about what kind of financial investment Hudson is truly willing to make in its young people. It’s a painful irony: so many in this community speak proudly of the Youth Department, yet so many others don’t even know what it does.
That’s where you come in. Share Here We Grow with your neighbors — especially the new ones who may not yet know the legacy or impact of the Hudson Youth Department. Before you echo calls for “fiscal responsibility” or budget tightening, take time to understand what this department really is: not just a building or a staff roster, but a lifeline for families navigating the ripple effects of gentrification, economic transition, and systemic neglect.
Support the Youth Department however you can. Attend Common Council meetings and speak up for their budget. Cheer on their staff — especially Calvin — who is carrying so much on his shoulders right now. Donate to Friends of Hudson Youth, the nonprofit that raises funds for programming and exemplifies what a public–private partnership can look like (our annual appeal is happening right now, and I say “our” because I serve as vice president of that board).
And most of all, when you think about Hudson’s future, think about our kids. Even if you don’t have any, or yours are grown, or you think yours don’t need the Youth Department — remember that cities that plan around their children plan around everyone. They thrive because when kids have safe, welcoming places to go, parents can work, elders can rest a little easier, and neighborhoods stay connected.
Research backs this up: every dollar invested in youth programs returns many times over in long-term community benefit — through higher graduation rates, lower crime, and stronger civic engagement. But as our panelists discussed, the real return can’t be measured in numbers. It’s the feeling of seeing a kid light up when they realize they belong somewhere. It’s knowing that in a changing city, they have a place that is all theirs, that they have people who will show up for them. It’s the continuity between generations. It’s the possibility that Hudson — small, scrappy, imperfect — might be the kind of place that truly grows its own.
Loved reading this!❤️
All of which raises the question...........Academy Hill, St. Mary's, Oakdale or Franklin Park ? Those of us that grew up in the 50's, 60's and 70's will all have their own opinion !