Had they blindfolded you to get in, you would figure the basement of the white, low-slung building west of downtown to be another high school classroom.

Computers are everywhere. A dozen teenagers sit intently studying the screens, all of them neatly dressed.

Yet you know this is no ordinary classroom. These kids, as you have been told, are among the scores of Denver-area students who dropped out or were kicked out of mainstream schools.

Virtually all of the nearly 100 students enrolled at LARASA Learning Center at 1st Avenue and Cherokee Street claim some street gang affiliation, though administrators estimate as few as 15 percent truly are active members.

With stories of horrific gang violence now dominating the front pages and TV news, the school seemed a good place to hang out for a while.

LARASA (Latin America Research and Service Agency), a nonprofit formed in 1964 to improve the lives of Latinos in the state, is run by Polly Baca, the former Colorado state senator.

The agency opened five learning centers in Denver two years ago, partnering with the Hope Co-op Online Learning Academy.

The kids in the Cherokee Street center are mostly from low-income, often dysfunctional families. Some failed in traditional schools for acting out, fighting. Some have learning disabilities.

"Here, we do not automatically assume it was the fault of the kids," Polly Baca said.

Also present is Walker McDonald, 60, a psychotherapist, who heads the violence prevention, anger management and tolerance program that every student at the school must attend and complete.

"These are not bad kids; they just don't have the correct home environment in place to assist them in learning," McDonald said.

Here, gang colors are left at the door. The idea is to promote individual identity, separate from gang life. Many students are far below grade level, but the goals for each are high.

"We don't just pass them through," Walker McDonald said. "The goal here isn't just graduating high school but getting into college."

Polly Baca tells of the 15- year-old boy left in charge of his 8-year-old brother. "Mom is gone," he told her flatly.

"We tracked her down," she said. "She was in jail. The court did not see fit to let them know she was immediately taken into custody. We were able to get them with their aunt."

Parental involvement in the learning center is a rule. An absence or three tardies, for example, requires a parent or guardian to get back in.

Enrollment is capped at 100 because of lack of money. The government provides only partial funding. Donations keep the school afloat. Fewer than 10 percent of students have dropped out or been kicked out in two years - a positive sign.

"When we started, I told myself I would have worked a miracle if one-third of the students succeeded," Polly Baca said. "It has worked because we don't judge our kids . . . We will do backflips for them if they are willing to do the work."

She and Walker McDonald find it amazing that the TV and newspapers suddenly have awoken to the fact of gang violence in Denver.

"It hasn't re-emerged," Walker McDonald said. "Maybe the murder of a Bronco has put focus on it, but gangs have been a way of life here for generations."

It is almost a family tradition: Grandma and grandpa were in gangs. Their kids followed them. The kids at the center are now being raised by grandpa and grandma because the parents are in jail. "A nasty cycle," Walker McDonald said.

"There are eight different gangs in our school now," he said. "Yet the most remarkable thing is, in our two years, there never has been a gang-related incident."

He attributes it to the emphasis on violence prevention. Each year he puts a core group of students through a 26-week training program in anger management, then they teach others.

There isn't room here to tell every story I heard at the center. One sticks:

A 12-year-old girl now enrolled in the school was the sole witness to a double homicide. She and her brother came to Walker McDonald. She could not testify, they told him. She would be killed.

Both victims, he said, were gang members who were killed by other gang members. If the girl were eliminated, there would be no more witnesses.

The brother, also a gang member, made a deal with Walker McDonald. The brother would go to police. And if he had to, he would provide protection for his little sister. So every day for weeks, three cars carrying two gang members each parked in front of the girl's home.

"It was for protection," said Walker McDonald. "He had come to realize what type of life his was, but that he didn't want to see his sister become another victim of it."

The shooter ultimately pleaded guilty, sparing the little girl from testifying.

"It is just the way it is," Polly Baca said softly.

I have agreed to come back again, this time to talk to the kids.

johnsonw@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-2763

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