Hamilton Herald Masthead

Editorial


Front Page - Friday, October 10, 2025

Ware happy with return home to Bethlehem Center


Chattanoogan’s search leads back to childhood sanctuary



Gerald Ware, Ph.D., didn’t just land a new job – he came home. When The Bethlehem Center in Chattanooga named Ware as its new executive director, it didn’t just hire a seasoned professional with decades of experience – it welcomed back one of its own.

At 54, Ware’s path has been anything but conventional. He’s played football for the Tennessee Vols, served aboard a Navy submarine, designed buildings and served in ministry. His career has been wide-ranging and rooted in service.

But for Ware, all roads lead back to “The Beth.”

That’s what Ware calls The Bethlehem Center – a 100-year-old nonprofit in Chattanooga’s Alton Park neighborhood that offers educational programs and wraparound services to help families break the cycle of poverty.

Ware doesn’t just know the mission. He lived it.

From his office near the entrance, he listens each afternoon as a wave of elementary schoolers floods in for afterschool programming – laughing, shouting and thundering down the hall in sneakers. The sound pulls him back to his own childhood, when he was one of those children, racing through the same halls to drawing class, sandlot football or snack time.

“Here they come,” he smiles. “This is why I keep my office here. I like to hear them go by.”

A legacy of service

The Beth was born in 1920 out of two ministries – Good Shepherd Fold Daycare, led by the Rev. Sallie Crenshaw, and the Wesley House, founded by Miriam Brock. From these beginnings, the center grew into a hub for education and spiritual development in Alton Park.

By the 1970s, factory closures had hit the community – a predominantly African American, working-class neighborhood – hard. As jobs vanished, unemployment rose, aging homes fell into disrepair and concerns about crime grew. Even so, churches and longtime residents held the community together, preserving a sense of identity amid hardship, says Ware.

“When people talk about Alton Park, they often picture the ‘inner city’ and everything that label carries. Some of that’s accurate; some of it isn’t. There’s always been a mix of realities here – yes, some violence, but not to the extent outsiders imagine. When I was growing up, the neighborhood was community-minded and close-knit. People looked out for one another.”

Ware, his mother and his three older siblings lived across the street from The Beth, a modest brick building that became his second home. For Ware, The Beth offered more than a break from the summer heat, it gave him a place to stay off the streets and discover a talent that would shape a season of his life: drawing.

Inside Ware’s office, a series of striking architectural drawings line the wall above his desk. Their clean lines and intricate shading suggest a practiced hand, but they also tell a story about where his creativity began.

“I wanted to have those here,” Ware says. “They remind me of how much The Beth influenced me growing up.”

Ware was 7 when he first picked up a pencil in an art class down the hall from where he now works. He doesn’t remember the instructor’s name, but he can see his face as clearly as if he were still sitting there.

He can also see the intricate drawings that surrounded the man. Ware, captivated, asked him to teach him how to do the same.

“He told me I wasn’t ready,” Ware recalls. “But he introduced me to techniques like stippling and cross-hatching, and taught me the difference between shade and shadow – even a little about composition.”

For generations of South Chattanooga residents, the Bethlehem Center was a community anchor where young people learned practical and artistic skills – cooking, sewing, drawing – that helped shape their lives, Ware notes. And he was one of the many who benefited from this approach.

“I spent as much time learning to draw as I did running up and down the basketball court,” he recalls.

As Ware reflects on his childhood in Alton Park, his voice carries a sense of gratitude. He says the Bethlehem Center shaped him in lasting ways, instilling a moral foundation that kept him out of trouble and teaching him what it meant to be part of a close, interconnected community.

But those carefree days spent running through The Beth’s halls didn’t last forever. When Ware was 12, his mother moved him and his siblings to White Oak, a community situated between North Chattanooga and Red Bank. It was a significant shift for the family, both geographically and symbolically, as it marked a new chapter of self-reliance.

“My mom decided it was time for us to stop being wards of the government,” Ware says. “She’d never been on welfare or subsistence aid, but she believed in working and supporting her family through her own efforts. So we relocated.”

The lessons Ware learned in Alton Park stayed with him long after he left. Over time, those early experiences became a compass guiding him back. So when the chance arose to lead the Bethlehem Center – the very place that had helped shape him – he felt an undeniable pull to return.

“I really, really, really wanted to be here when this job opened up,” he says with emphasis. “I really, really, really wanted to be here.”

Charting a winding path

After leaving Alton Park, Ware charted a path that would take him far from the Bethlehem Center – geographically and professionally – before ultimately leading him back.

After his family left Alton Park, he attended Red Bank middle and high schools where he played football and began to imagine a future beyond Chattanooga. His ambitions initially took him to the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, where he joined the football program. But after a year on the team, he realized the sport wasn’t where his fulfillment lay.

“I wanted to be an architect, but there was no way I was going to be able to study architecture and play football,” he says, declining to embellish.

Ware switched his major to business, but midway through his junior year decided that path wasn’t right for him, either.

Wanting a new direction, Ware withdrew from school and enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1994. Drawn by a desire to serve and see the world, he volunteered for submarine duty – a competitive and intellectually demanding branch of the military. He served on active duty until 1998 and remained in the reserves until 2002.

When his military service ended, Ware returned to UT to pursue the dream he’d put on hold – architecture. His studies led to a position with Artech Design Group, a prominent Chattanooga firm, where he contributed to retail studio projects for Belk and Carmike Cinemas.

He loved the work, but not just for the design challenges.

“A lot of working in architecture involved educating the client – working with people, helping them figure out what they wanted and needed, and then going from there,” he says. “I liked the interaction.”

Though Ware enjoyed architecture, his growing interest in community and leadership eventually drew him toward ministry. For four years, he served as executive director of ministries at the now shuttered New United Church, overseeing operations and programs rather than preaching from the pulpit.

When that chapter ended, he transitioned again, this time into consulting, focusing on life and career coaching, team building and organizational culture. His growing interest in the dynamics of human behavior led him back to the classroom, where he earned a master’s in organizational leadership and later a doctorate from Oxford Graduate School in Dayton.

“I became interested in the sociology of how people interact,” he says. “That led me to pursue a Ph.D. I felt like there were things I needed to understand.”

When the executive director position opened up at The Bethlehem Center, Ware says he felt an immediate pull toward it.

“I said, ‘That’s for me,’” he recalls.

The role also offered something Ware had long wanted but never fully achieved: the chance to invest in the community he calls home. Although he and his family live locally, most of his consulting work took him elsewhere.

“My wife is here, my family is here, my house is here,” he says. “But I didn’t really work here because my clients were in other places.”

The job at The Beth changed that. With his deep ties to the neighborhood, the organization and the broader community, Ware recognized a natural alignment between the position and his skills and values.

“I felt like it’d be a perfect fit for me,” he says. “Even in the Navy, serving on a submarine meant knowing just about everything. There aren’t many people down there, so you learn to shoulder a lot of responsibility and keep things moving forward. Architecture school reinforced that. I had a professor who told us, ‘Most of you won’t become architects, but this education will make you excellent managers.’ Later, through consulting and organizational leadership, I built on those people skills. It all dovetails together pretty well.

“So, I went after it, and here I am.”

Leading through lean times

For Ware, stepping into the role of executive director at The Bethlehem Center is about more than managing programs or balancing budgets. He sees the position as a point of connection – a “conduit,” as he calls it – between the board, staff, donors and the broader Chattanooga community.

It’s a role that calls for both vision and pragmatism, qualities Ware demonstrates through his clear-eyed understanding of the financial realities that shape The Beth’s work. Like many nonprofits, the organization depends on a mix of grants, donations and fundraising events – including the annual Dinner of Champions – to sustain its programs.

Strengthening that financial footing is just one of Ware’s top priorities. He also hopes to broaden The Beth’s reach and reinforce its role as a place where people can discover their options in life.

“One of the key messages I hope people take from The Beth is that they have choices – that their circumstances don’t define them,” he says.

Ware is realistic about the obstacles ahead. Like many nonprofits, The Beth faces constant financial pressures, with limited resources often falling short of its ambitions. In response, he plans to look outward to the community, seeking partnerships that can help the organization meet needs in creative ways.

“We could partner with a tax attorney to offer help a couple of Saturdays a month during tax season. Even without the funds to launch a program, we’ll lean in and find a way.”

Family and creative outlets

Outside of his work at The Bethlehem Center, Ware’s life is anchored by family and creativity. He and his wife, Dr. LeAndrea Ware, have been married for 26 years. She serves as principal at The Howard School, and together they’ve raised two sons and a daughter. With their youngest leaving home this past August, the couple have officially entered the empty-nest stage of life.

Ware fills his free time with pursuits that keep him both active and inspired. He loves mountain biking, woodworking and playing music – hobbies that allow him to recharge and express himself.

His passion for music runs especially deep. He first picked up the drums when he was 7 or 8 and has been playing ever since. What began as a childhood fascination grew into a lifelong creative outlet and, at times, a practical lifeline.

Years ago, after a round of staff layoffs during his time in ministry, Ware struggled to find work. He began calling friends in Nashville in search of gigs and opportunities to play and before long was back behind the drum kit.

Today, a drum set sits in his office – a reminder of that period and of the refuge music continues to provide. Ware still writes, composes and records in his spare time.

“I’ll probably never stop making music – it’s cathartic for me. It’s like breathing. I can’t imagine life without it,” he says.

Coming full circle

Alton Park has changed since Ware’s childhood. Once defined by a narrower socioeconomic range, the neighborhood today is far more diverse.

“There’s more poverty than you’d expect, but there are also single-family homes and people who work at TVA,” Ware says. “Everything from individuals experiencing homelessness to middle-class professionals live in this neighborhood.”

Alton Park might be rebounding from its struggles, but the daily stampede of sneakers racing past Ware’s door after school is proof that The Beth remains an essential part of the community. It’s also a vital part of Ware’s life.

“The Beth has brought things full circle for me,” he says. “It feels like coming home. I didn’t even have to settle in; it’s as if I’ve always been here.”

Ware isn’t just leading The Beth – he embodies its mission.

“I’m the kid who needed a place to get off the street. I’m the kid who needed somewhere to spend time productively. I’m the kid who needed books to read and a place to blow off steam,” he says.

“I’m a living, breathing testament to what The Beth is and what it’s for.”