On May 2, some sad/happy news went out to the families of School Settlement Association (SSA) (120 Jackson Street). Sad/happy — and there should be a word for this — because the sad part is its program director, Rick Martinez, who has been teaching SSA’s children for nearly 30 years, will be leaving at the end of June; the happy part is for the best wishes sent his way as Martinez will be moving his family to Florida.
Martinez was born and raised in Williamsburg. He grew up across the street from SSA and attended its afterschool. He also went to P.S. 132 and St. Cecilia’s. When he was old enough he went to work at SSA.
“I worked summer camp as a kid, My Aunt Pat worked here. She did the books. She was like, ‘you just graduated school. You want to work with kids?’ and it grew from there with a passion of working with children. And working with children in my community was very, very important to me. A couple of times I was asked if I wanted to move or go to a different location. I’d never want to do that. I loved seeing the kids after six o’clock, seeing them in the parks even going to get a slice of pizza. You know you run into people from the neighborhood, and I like that,” said Martinez.
He also expressed the deep responsibility he felt to always be an example when he was out in the neighborhood outside of his work at SSA. Because there was always the chance he’d see the kids and parents of SSA out and about, and they would need to see a constancy. “I was taught a big thing in the world is character. Character is doing right when no one is looking.”
Speaking of character, SSA is a 120+ year organization founded and built on Jackson Street. It was a part of a nationwide movement — settlement houses — to help recently arrived immigrants and their children succeed by providing social services to empower them.
Martinez later became the assistant to the director of SSA. When that director put in his notice, Michael Rochford, the executive director of St. Nicks Alliance, asked Rick to come in early one morning and handed him the keys. “That was 2008, and that was it. I ran with it.”
A few years back, Martinez moved to Howard Beach because his family was growing and they needed more space. As much as he would have liked to stay, housing in the neighborhood had gotten expensive, especially that which can house a growing family.
Martinez’s decision to move to Florida also concerned needing more space, but also more time for his family and more of a sense of participating in the community where they live. His commute from Long Island to SSA is almost two hours each way.
“Even now we need more room, and because we live in Long Island everywhere is a drive. You know I miss the going outside kind of neighborhood stuff.”
Asked about his career plans for Florida, he says he first wants to have fun with the move and learn about his new home area. He never thought he would move and he hopes it’s his last move for a long while so he wants to do it right. He does want to work in education as he feels he still has a lot to give.
“This job is all heart. You’re not going to make a million dollars. That’s not the realm I want to work in.”
Martinez remembers the first day he started as a summer camp counselor was July 1, 1997. His last day at SSA will be June 30, 2025.
“This isn’t just a program. No it’s not. This is a lot. This is a building. This is a community. This is a neighborhood,” said Martinez in regards to “handing over his baby”. And he’s literal about the building. SSA was established in 1901, and the building’s cornerstone states 1914. There is upkeep. There also is a campaign to rebuild it.
One of the joys of working at one place for nearly 30 years is that he sees people come back. Kids that went to afterschool at SSA ask to work there when they are older. They enroll their kids there when they become parents.
What does Martinez hope he provided during his time at SSA?
“Peace of mind. What I mean by that is, being a parent now, I never understood to a degree how important we are. When I hand my son over every day — knowing he’s the most important thing to me — to a stranger and have to trust that they’re going to do the right thing and watch over. And for hundreds of parents to trust me with their children. People fought to be here. When they were thinking about closing, people rallied. [Then] talking to Michael and [that he] wanted me to be here and guide it. The million dollars I talk about not getting: that’s my million dollars.”
The Greenline 