I’m feeling blessed to be sitting in a café in downtown Los Angeles, enjoying the beautiful day and my iced coffee with just the right amount of cream, still processing the past two days at the “Setting the Standard: Defining Community Violence Intervention (CVI)” convening. The Omni hotel was a buzz with CVI represented from coast-to-coast. This was a remarkable gathering—an impressive cross-section of the CVI ecosystem. What for me was a special experience was the predominate presence and energy of frontline CVI professionals from across the country, each empowered, bringing their unique voice, insight, and experience to the table. And of course, many friends, long-time colleagues, and even a few folks who challenge my sensibilities all showed up, and I was grateful for every moment of it.
What struck me most—beyond the talent, the wisdom, and the passion—was the youthfulness and diversity of leadership in the room. Admittedly, I may have brought a few more miles with me to the table than most, however I welcomed the opportunity to be more student than teacher. That, in and of itself, was a gift.
At the heart of this convening was one essential question: What is CVI?
It’s a deceptively simple question, but one that demands serious thought and courageous clarity. From there flowed others:
- Who does CVI serve?
- What data matters most, and how should success be measured?
- What infrastructure and capacity are needed to deliver optimal outcomes?
- What sets CVI apart from law enforcement—and how, if at all, should the two intersect?
- What are the essential competencies and training standards for frontline CVI workers?
This wasn’t any typical convening or just another workshop. It was a sector-wide self-examination—an attempt to name, define, and shape the future of a field that has saved countless lives and taxpayer dollars, yet still fights for full recognition and rightful investment.
The conveners—CBPS, NICJR, and UPI (Community Based Public Safety, National Institute for Criminal Justice Reform, and Urban Peace Institute)—did an admirable job of creating a space for rigorous dialogue and reflection. The facilitation was tight, the agenda was full, and the discussions were rich. At times, they were even uncomfortable. And that was necessary.
We challenged traditional notions of how CVI is organized and led. We surfaced tensions around power, experience, and the risk of professionalizing CVI in ways that dilute its mission. We wrestled with how to define the field without closing the door on the very people CVI was created to serve. And in the process, we may have placed our personal and professional identities under the microscope.
That’s the work.
And yet, for all the hard conversations, there was also real consensus—on principles, priorities, and the need to move forward together.
I dare say and acknowledge that some key CVI voices weren’t in the room. This is understandable considering the business of life and other professional obligations and personal priorities. Establishing necessary CVI-wide standards and broad-based acceptance and adherence to them will require a lot of work, feedback, healthy struggle, patience, and time. We will need to be prepared for this and even be willing to dig into “embracing the suck” as they say in the Navy Seals, when the process may challenge our emotions and grit. And no doubt, it will from time-to-time. Nothing great built to last was ever accomplished without struggle.
One of our greatest challenges ahead will be guarding against the dilution of this work. Too many once-targeted systems—mentoring, violence prevention, gang prevention, re-entry, youth development—have evolved to serve the accessible, not the most vulnerable. CVI cannot follow that same trajectory. Its core must remain focused on those at the epicenter of gun violence. If CVI is to succeed, it must prioritize the people and places most impacted, not just those easiest to reach or least politically complicated to serve.
Looking forward, my hope is for even greater creativity, innovation, and risk-taking. But we won’t get there alone. This will require a more collaborative effort, shared leadership, and structural transformation. As CVI organizations, we must become more networked, less siloed. We must challenge our assumptions, and embrace change—not as disruption, but as growth. For example, I believe that for CVI to achieve its highest promise (i.e., a publicly funded necessity with permanence within the public safety/public health infrastructure like fire, emergency management services, and policing) models and brand names associated with it, like Advance Peace, will need to become more of a reference point and/or citation of the necessary and optional elements of effective CVI practice.
CVI stakeholders should be proud that much ground was covered in Los Angeles. And we should acknowledge that much more lies ahead.
Some of our conclusions will hold. Others must be tested, refined, and sometimes rejected. But our time together was necessary, and it was pathfinding. And if we’re honest with each other, and stay true to the communities we serve, this moment can mark the beginning of a stronger, smarter, and more unified CVI sector.
Can I say it? I will anyway, just to close this out. We’re not just setting standards—we’re setting the stage for the future of public safety in America.