People under siege turn to us in complete frustration and I get a chance to go in when it's do or die.

The anger that I had going into the first trial was stifled because I had a chance to tell my story. I was like an MX missile waiting to go off. Now I'm more like a can of deodorant.

I was wrong, but we were in a sprint for survival. We were just little people trying to get recognition for doing good work. In a sense it was like being Don Quixote.

For every good person that comes from Brooklyn or the Bronx, there are some bad people who bring their more criminal-intensive ways to small communities. We think we can be an antidote to that.

Some people have this stereotype in their mind that you have to be the son or daughter of Bruce Lee, physically fit, trim and able to fight off an army of uzi-toting, dope-sucking, psychopathic killing machines. That is not the prerequisite.

A lot of our members expressed frustration with the fact they felt they didn't have a chance to speak at the breakfast.