A young man pokes his head through the basement door of Toronto's Drake Hotel. Three more young men follow. It's obvious this is where The Live Report Card is about to go down.

The lighting is a knock out -- it's pointing away from the stage yet somehow it still looks like the centre of attention. The spot seems like an upscale club, but what makes it really classy is the mixture of youth and adults. Some are rocking riddims with their clique and adults are real relaxed conversing with other parents. Friends have showed up in support of the initiative and participants.  

"Eight months ago none of these youth knew each other," says Natasha Daniel, who has known some of the programs participants for over three years, including 17-year-old Stanley. Acting as the Master of Ceremony he electrifies the mic with his charisma and wit, asking "if they [the crowd] want him to stop talking". Confidence, generated by the cheers of endearing people, friends and family laughing is written all over the smirk on his face.

The Live Report Card is about to showcase the works of youth from the Malvern and Jane and Finch areas of Toronto, both places that constantly receive negative media attention. "The elements of hip-hop culture are the primary tool[s] utilized to articulate the voices of the students," reads the Lost Lyrics promotional flyer. The performance is set in a classroom. It couldn't be more obvious when 13-year-old Isaiah comes out in pants worn as high as his chest in order to perfect his role as a strict, overbearing teacher who is unaware of the creativity within these urban youngsters -- they just require a relevant curriculum.  A striking young woman declares the teacher's approach as unethical and frightens him out of the classroom. Now the group of students empower themselves with some energy inspiring vibes, stomping across the stage symbiotically. In the form of dance and poetry they transcend their knowledge of self-awareness and learn how to help their community. According to the "Report Card" the audience decides whether or not the characters on stage meet the criteria of someone who has harnessed the knowledge of self.

Also in place is an auction. The photographs and paintings blend elegantly into the atmosphere. A piece titled "Why the Word Hood is Bad", depicted in gold writing against a purple landscape and buildings, poetically explains how self-oppression is inflicted by the miscommunication of the words we use to identify ourselves with. "I'm a Superwoman", a performance by two young ladies with the most stage presence has mothers and grandmothers rocking their hands side to side. Their words express how they keep hope alive by being themselves and knowing that their strength lies in their identity.

Words by. Sanjay Misra + Photos by. Karla Smith-Brown