Emmett Folgert is dispensing wisdom -- along with crumpled dollar bills -- from a torn chair in a second-floor walkup in the middle of the Fields Corner business district in Dorchester. Operating out of this dingy warren of office space, the longtime director of the Dorchester Youth Collaborative has been a steady presence in the lives of Boston youths for more than 25 years.

The same cannot be said of public support for programs to reach youths before they come under the spell of life on the streets and the bad news it invariably brings.

''We never maintain over time the level of funding for programs we all know we need," Folgert says with a sigh. That need has been particularly clear this summer, as Boston neighborhoods have been rocked by a rise in gun violence, including two recent incidents in which innocent youths were victims of gunfire in or near city parks. And on Wednesday night, a 30-year-old man was shot to death steps from a Dorchester park where teenagers were playing soccer.

The rash of shootings has prompted officials to launch a coordinated crackdown involving city, state, and federal law enforcement officials. Folgert says the muscular response, dubbed Operation Neighborhood Shield, is on target, especially because of the devastating impact of gunfire in city parks.

''In good weather, they're like a youth center without a roof, so to have violence there was really stepping over the line," he says of the recent attacks, which included an 11-year-old boy shot while attending a youth football league practice at a Roxbury playground.

But as important as the cop clampdown, he says, is having things for kids to do in the parks and elsewhere and having responsible adults around to do things with them.

It's quiet at the Dorchester Youth Collaborative on this past Monday evening because many of the kids Folgert works with are across the street at Town Field, where DYC has two basketball teams competing in the Boston Neighborhood Basketball League.

''I hear we're getting beat," Folgert says of the courtside reports he's had.

Following the games, the young players return, with several coming to Folgert looking for help with bus fare or food. He peels dollar bills from a wad in his pocket, repeatedly spilling some onto the floor. One hungry hoopster is back a few minutes later with a McDonald's hamburger that may be a marginal meal but is the sort of small act of care that has helped give Folgert, 54, such a big foothold in the lives of youths.

Play, Folgert says of what goes on in city parks, is actually serious business. ''Play is a precursor to work and a precursor to love," he says, describing how the give-and-take of negotiating conflicts and rules during games is also the stuff of success in work and in personal relationships.

''The stronger their social skills become, the more comfortable they are dealing with each other and the safer the neighborhood becomes," he says. ''But the opposite is also true. Without those places, the neighborhood becomes more violent."

But city officials and others like Folgert who run community-based organizations have been scrambling in recent years to fill in the holes created by a steady steam of state and federal cuts for youth services. In 2001, the Boston Housing Authority lost $3.1 million in annual federal funding that supported youth services, including 18 outreach workers at public housing developments. The city stepped in to fund the positions, but the BHA had to close youth drop-in centers at about 15 developments.

State Department of Public Health funding that supported 10 outreach workers based at various Boston nonprofit agencies was cut last year.

Meanwhile, state support for youth summer jobs programs dried up three years ago, and a recent report from a commission chaired by Lieutenant Governor Kerry Healey questioned the value of such efforts as crime-fighting tools.

''I was astounded by that because I know they work," says Mayor Thomas M. Menino. ''My God, go out on the street and talk to these kids."

Menino says Operation Neighborhood Shield is crucial, but only represents a stopgap.

''That'll keep the peace," he says. ''But we have to build strong individuals, have them see some light at the end of the tunnel," he says, referring to job programs and other services.

In May, state Senator Jack Hart, a South Boston Democrat who represents most of Dorchester and Mattapan, sponsored several budget amendments to fund services at the Ella J. Baker House, the Dorchester outreach center run by the Rev. Eugene Rivers. None of the measures was approved, but with the Legislature poised to consider supplemental appropriations from the current $750 million surplus, Hart plans to push again for ways to help youth services in Boston.

''We're not asking for something frivolous," he says. ''Just look at the newspaper clippings."

Meanwhile, Baker House staff members say they've been in touch with officials in Governor Mitt Romney's office who have pledged to try to find ways to help fund youth programming.

The sudden attention is great, says Larry Mayes, director of the Log School, a multi-service center on Bowdoin Street in Dorchester. ''My only problem with it all is it has to move away from crisis mode to sustainability and accountability. Until you do that, all you're really doing is moving from crisis to crisis."

''We're inviting the state to come back into the water," says Folgert. ''Now that the economy has improved, we need funding to be restored."

Of the broad set of partnerships and programs credited with the city's remarkable drop in crime and violence in the late 1990s, he says, ''Let's be clear: There is no 'Boston Strategy' without a certain level of funding. That level of funding doesn't exist right now."

''With anything that involves money, the politics behind it is huge," says Mayes. ''Somebody wins and somebody loses. And in the last couple of years, unfortunately, the young people have lost."