
In the first week of August, Brian Harris’ office was littered with cardboard boxes. A giant stack obscured the corner opposite his desk; among other things, the pile included a refrigerator, an air fryer, and women’s sanitary products.
These were dorm supplies, Harris explained. A few weeks earlier, Harris, Memphis’ director of youth services, heard one of his students couldn’t afford to furnish her dorm room. Harris decided to fix her problem himself — he and a few fraternity brothers purchased everything she’d need.
That kind of attention to a student in need is part of an effort to ensure that Memphis’ Office of Youth Services takes care of the city’s most underserved children — a task Harris seems personally invested in.
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He became director of Memphis’ Office of Youth Services in January. The office is a department within the mayor’s office and runs enrichment programs for young people. Its most well-known program is likely MPLOY — a six-week summer jobs program where youth, ages 16-22, are placed in local businesses and organizations — but it also has a hand in over a dozen other programs, including Youth City Council and “I AM INCLUDED,” a program for children with disabilities.
Since assuming his role, Harris has added even more programs to the office. He’s created mentorship programs that operate out of seven different community centers (Whitehaven, Ed Rice, McFarland, Bert Ferguson, Glenview, Orange Mound, and Cunningham) and a program called “Elevate 901,” which takes children in some of Memphis’ poorest neighborhoods on field trips to parks, museums, government buildings and local businesses.
What follows is part of MLK50’s conversation with Harris — edited and condensed for clarity — on what motivates him to do this work.
RC: You grew up in Memphis, in Westwood. What was your youth like?
BH: My youth was very interesting, in a good way. My dad worked for Goldsmith’s department store, which we now know as Macy’s, and my mom was a school teacher. She later became a principal. I grew up in Mississippi Boulevard Christian Church, where I’m still a member. My parents raised my sister and I to be servants in the community.
RC: And then you became a teacher at Westwood High School?
BH: I did that recently. For 22 years, I worked in corporate America. But after I got my executive Master of Business Administration in May of 2023, I did what many thought was unthinkable, and I left a six-figure job to go teach at an inner-city high school. Teaching was my passion.

RC: So what was being a teacher at Westwood like?
BH: People often look at education as just instructional, and it’s not. You’re a counselor, you’re a pastor, you’re a friend, you’re a mentor, you’re a confidant. To paraphrase one of my favorite authors, James Weldon Johnson, children often emulate what they see. I’ll never forget when I wore a suit to school, a young man said, “Mr. Harris, you got a funeral to go to today?” So, he associated a suit with a funeral, not everyday work.
RC: On that topic, what were the needs you saw in Westwood?
BH: Have you ever read this poem called “‘Cause I Ain’t Got a Pencil?” Basically, the poem talks about what children endure before they get to school. My mom’s not at home. Our lights are not on. We didn’t have any food last night. So when the kids do come to school, instead of chastising them for what they don’t have, you have to understand what they went through to get here, and that’s what Westwood exposed me to.
RC: Now I’m wondering, how have all these experiences that you’ve described informed your approach to being director at the Office of Youth Services?
BH: The time I spent in the school really opened my eyes to some key things. Our kids need to be exposed to things beyond their ZIP code.
RC: What do you mean by exposing youth to new things?
BH: So I’ll give you an example. We took a field trip to see “The Nutcracker” [at The Orpheum] with our students at Westwood. We were going down Riverside Drive on the yellow bus, and a student said, “Hey, Mr. Harris, we going out of town or something?” He had never seen the river before. And what that showed me is that we have Memphians who have not seen beyond their ZIP code.
So, fast forward to this director role. One of our new programs is called “Elevate 901.” We started in 38109, which is Westwood and Coro Lake, because at the time, that particular side of 38109 had the worst gun violence in the city of Memphis. So I launched a camp down there where we picked kids up on a charter bus, and we took them out of the neighborhood. They went to the MoSH museum. They went to city hall,. They went to county buildings. They went to Tom Lee Park.
RC: I’ve noticed that a lot of that news coverage of your office is related to crime. As in, the Office of Youth Services is framed as a crime prevention mechanism. I’m just wondering how you feel about that framing?
BH: When you talk to citizens, crime is top of mind. And when you look at who’s creating the crimes, in a lot of cases, it does involve younger people. When I look at our office, I think it does involve crime prevention and also, to a degree, intervention, because our programs are mentorship. On social media, young people see rappers, they see athletes, they see money, they see fame. Every young person I taught would say, “Mr. Harris, I’m gonna get this mon-yun to have some fun-yun.” Stupid stuff. So, getting money by any means. We know — and I know through life experience — when you do something unethical or illegal, it has a consequence.
Through this office, we show a different way. If young people can earn money through getting credit hours through their work, their good behavior, their attendance, that drives a different perspective.
RC: Could you sum up your hopes for the students you work with?
I want our young people to remember us as a liaison that believes in them, that loves them and is investing in them regardless of their situation, regardless of their socioeconomic status. We don’t see young people as a problem. We see them as an opportunity, a golden opportunity.
Rebecca Cadenhead is the youth life and justice reporter for MLK50: Justice Through Journalism. She is also a corps member with Report for America, a national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms. Email her rebecca.cadenhead@mlk50.com.
This story is brought to you by MLK50: Justice Through Journalism, a nonprofit newsroom focused on poverty, power and policy in Memphis. Support independent journalism by making a tax-deductible donation today. MLK50 is also supported by these generous donors.

