When Julie first walked into HYC in 2010, there was no job description waiting for her. There wasn’t even a clear sense of what her role would be. What there was—though she didn’t fully realize it at the time—was the beginning of something foundational.

Julie came to HYC after being laid off from her job with an elementary school district, along with much of the district’s office staff. For months, she struggled to find work. Then, almost unexpectedly, a former colleague told her about a friend starting a new organization focused on helping homeless teens.

At the time, Julie didn’t have a long-term vision for what the role would become. What she had was lived experience. When she turned 18, Julie left home and spent a period living out of her car. Though she later rebuilt her relationship with her parents, she never forgot what it felt like to be unaccompanied—and how much it mattered when friends and family stepped in to help her navigate her way back.

“I was so grateful for the family and friends who helped me when I was on my own,” Julie says. “I wanted to be that for the youth who found themselves in the same situation I had been in.”

Becoming the First Youth Coach

Julie became HYC’s very first youth coach, though at the time, no one was calling it that yet.

“There was no structure at all,” she remembers. “Larry didn’t give me a job description or instructions.”

Everything was new for everyone. For days, Julie spent time at her desk waiting, unsure where to begin, while Larry was equally focused on building something entirely from the ground up. Eventually, on a day when Larry was out of the office, Julie decided to take initiative and began introducing herself at local schools. Later, she and Larry laughed about how those first steps unfolded—both, learning in real time what the work would become.

What kept her coming back? Faith and commitment. She believed in what Larry was trying to build, even if it didn’t yet have shape or systems.

“It was really scary,” Julie admits. “I hadn’t gotten a job offer in so long. I remember thinking, ‘I might not have a job next week.’ It felt like a gamble—but at the same time, I knew it was good.”

It was a gamble she was willing to take, because the youth already mattered to her.

“Just a Mom Wanting to Help”

In the early days, Julie introduced herself simply as “just a mom wanting to help.”

She had no formal training in youth work, no degree, and no roadmap. As she began meeting students and hearing their stories, she realized she needed to learn quickly. Over the summer, she enrolled in a community college course on violence and abuse. She earned a 98%—and encouragement from her professor to keep going. That fall, she started college classes while working full-time. Everything she learned in the classroom, she brought back to HYC.

“I started taking classes because a student was being abused, and I didn’t know how to help them,” she says. “I just wanted to get better at what I was doing.”

At the same time, the work quickly became all-consuming and deeply personal. In those early days, outreach looked very different than it does now. Julie was given a cell phone. That number was printed in newspapers, placed on cards, and distributed through school counselors. Youth began calling her directly—sometimes in the middle of the night.

“If I got a call, I would go,” she says. “I missed a lot of my kids’ school events. Sometimes I’d go out alone to pick up youth. Occasionally, I brought them home until we could find a safer place.”

With few established systems in place, responding often meant making difficult decisions in real time while prioritizing safety and stability for the youth. She remembers one night returning home at 3 a.m. after helping a student secure immediate shelter. It was one of many moments that made the weight of the work real, as she was one person trying to show up for young people in crisis while also being a mom to young children at home.

Not every student trusted her right away. Some never did. Others slowly opened up—once they realized she was truly there for them.

Some calls were especially hard. She recalls two siblings whose mother and her boyfriend abandoned them at a gas station on their way to Las Vegas. Somehow, the youth made it back and found HYC. Moments like that stayed with her.

Building Something from Small Acts

HYC’s work was guided entirely by the needs that surfaced. Starting with the Agua Fria School District, Julie responded to whatever students needed—school supplies, hygiene items, or even a safe place to stay. Larry worked with rotary clubs, churches, businesses, and individual donors to gather resources, while Julie stayed on the front lines, making sure youth knew help was available. With few people aware of HYC yet, every call, every connection, and every small act made a real difference.

In the beginning, HYC served about 40 students a year. There were no formal case notes, no databases, no systems. Julie began creating files simply to help her remember each youth’s story. Those files eventually evolved into formal case notes, DAP notes, and later, HMIS.

Fundraising was just as grassroots. Julie would meet with youth in the morning, then spend afternoons driving from hotel to hotel asking for free rooms or discounts. She visited restaurants asking for gift certificates, stores asking for products, and businesses willing to help in any way they could.

“I thought it was kind of cool,” she says. “To come back and show all the things I was able to get.”

Julie laughs when she remembers a connection to her own upbringing: “I didn’t think about this at the time, but my mom kind of did the same thing when I was young! She wrote letters for the homeless through our church and even asked for things like Disneyland passes. I started making a lot of connections too—for instance, if we had students who needed something for prom, I would have a contact!”

Over time, these efforts grew into a network of supporters, helping lay the foundation for the programs and partnerships that support HYC’s work today.

Watching Youth Thrive

Julie’s long hours and hard moments were always grounded in the same hope: that the youth she worked with would one day find stability, confidence, and a future of their own. She lights up when she talks about the youth who went on to thrive.

Christina, who once whispered when she spoke and barely made eye contact, was eventually placed in a host home that adopted her. Years later, Julie stood at her wedding, watching a young woman who once struggled to speak now surrounded by love.

Another youth, who couldn’t enroll in school because his parents were out of state, dreamed of becoming a paramedic. Julie helped him navigate registration, enroll in West-MEC, and eventually share his story at an HYC breakfast. Members of the Goodyear Fire Department happened to be in the room that day. They heard his speech and later offered him a job.

“That success isn’t about me,” Julie says. “That comes from the students themselves. A lot of times, they just needed a little hope to get started.”

The Mission Continues

Fifteen years later, HYC looks very different. There are systems, staff, structure, and balance. But at its heart, Julie sees the same mission she stepped into all those years ago—helping youth navigate challenges, find their voice, and imagine a future they once thought impossible.

When asked what advice she’d give to someone stepping into this role today, she says, “Don’t get discouraged. Some days are really heavy. But there are success stories. Don’t let the hard days take them away.”

As HYC celebrates 15 years, Julie’s story reminds us of the courage, care, and small acts that built the foundation for everything that followed.