As I flip through the three hundred plus channels on my cable T.V., I pause on every other channel, giving that 10 seconds of attention to whatever show I come across. A constant barrage of realty this reality that, sporting events, talk shows, and me in the middle, trying to avoid my son catching a glimpse of that sponge dude that lives in a pineapple. Is it me, or is he on all day? While at least that show is positive, it seems like the more we watch, the more negativity we encounter, and it's not just the reality shows which now seem to outnumber the regular programming. It's also on the news channels, which usually focus on war, bombings, and death, leaving us all to watch a cascade of violence that covers the world over. Watching the fighting in countries on the other side of the world, it's evident that we are willing to sacrifice thousands of American lives and spend billions of dollars in support of external conflicts, and in doing so, we sometimes forget about our own problems here at home. The introspection, and individual moxie it takes to solve our domestic problems seems to have faded in our selfish, "me first" culture. There is one person however, that is motivated by the concern for our domestic problems, a person willing to walk the walk while he's talking the talk. That person is Danny "Boxer" Gullart, and he is committed to helping his community by reaching out to those in need of a helping hand and guidance.

Danny "Boxer" Gullart is a gang intervention specialist for the Gang Reduction Youth Development Program, which is operated and overseen by the Mayor's office of the City of Los Angeles. His area runs from the old historic streets of Boyle Heights, East LA, and comes full circle in the area surrounding the Los Angeles County Hospital. This territory has been plagued with violence and overwhelming obstacles for young people for years, and that gives Danny great cause for concern. "You can read it on the walls," he says. "Walk into any hot zone and the walls tell you everything. You can actually read the war declarations signed by an aerosol spray can," he laments. Danny's reality world does not concern D-list celebrities finding spouses, rich people complaining about their fortunate circumstances, or sports figures embarrassing themselves for the sake of ego. His reality consists of dead ends, lives taken for granted, impoverished communities, and harsh circumstances. He doesn't sugarcoat it. "Being a veteran of the wars inside and outside of the walls, I only speak the truth to them, letting them know the reality of that life," he says.

His experiences in his own early life on the tough Los Angeles streets serve as his motivation, a constant driving force that keeps him dedicated to his community for one simple reason; he cares. He is a knight on his own crusade of salvation, venturing into dangerous lands filled with tension. The thunderous sound of his rapping pipes are a familiar sound in the area, as he gallops down the streets of Los Angeles in his noble '48 Chevrolet Fleetline, ready to help in whatever capacity he is needed. When neighborhood fuses are lit by a killing, it is Danny who becomes the mediator between vicious factions. It's a demanding lifestyle. "The phone rings at anytime of the day or night," he says. "It's a job that has no set schedule. I get calls from [the] parents of kid[s] in my program. I give them my card and let them know that I make house calls. I'm here to help the folks out also, if they feel they're losing control, I tell them not to hesitate to call me."