It was the first day of school, and Jamaurion Leverston was glad to be back. He spent much of the summer indoors — a conscious decision to protect a precious opportunity by avoiding trouble in his neighborhood.

"I can't afford to be at the wrong place at the wrong time," he said. "Not when I'm so close to making something of myself."

Leverston, 17, is a senior at Legal Prep Charter Academy, one of the few legal-themed high schools in the nation. It opened its doors three years ago with about 150 students in one of Chicago's bleakest neighborhoods. Its mission: to attract more minorities to the legal profession and give them the tools to build a better life.

The inaugural class has now started its senior year, and 81 students who started three years ago remain. The senior class also includes 14 transfer students. They are joined by freshmen, sophomores and juniors for a total enrollment of around 300 — virtually all African-American — who are accepting strict discipline standards and rigorous classes that emphasize critical thinking and both written and oral communication.

Encouraging signs include enrollment gains and the expansion of extracurricular activities and AP classes. But co-founders Rather Stanton and Sam Finkelstein say they will not declare victory until every student has been accepted to college — and graduates.

They intend to follow students throughout their postsecondary education.

"We will visit. We will call, we will make sure they have enough money for books and rent. Otherwise everything we did here was for nothing," Finkelstein said. They plan to fulfill that goal by creating a special fund, with some donors already stepping up, he said.

Since the school opened in fall 2012, it has added sports and dozens of extracurricular activities, from Steppers dance program to chess club. Staff led 16 juniors on a spring break college tour throughout the South. The school hired its first full-time college counselor, the former vice president of admissions at Lake Forest College. Lawyers from some of the city's top firms have taught classes and serve as mentors, hoping to increase diversity in the legal pipeline, which is overwhelmingly white.

But there have been challenges. Fundraising is a constant concern. The first principal left amid philosophical differences, and Finkelstein assumed the role. Students, too, have come and gone, an eviction notice or utility cutoff away from academic traction. "Home is transient," said Stanton, co-founder and development director at Legal Prep.

Most of all, the co-founders said they underestimated the trauma and violence in the area, which is plagued by poverty and the highest homicide rate in the city.

To address the students' mental health needs, Legal Prep employs two full-time social workers and a social work intern.

"A lot of that stress just comes into the building," Stanton said. "It's just so much more than we ever imagined, and you can't separate it from the learning."

Stanton and Finkelstein, both lawyers, hatched the idea for the school in 2009. They had been working at a nonprofit that ran a summer program designed to increase kids' interest in law.

"But we were just sending them back to crummy high schools," Stanton said. "Sam came into my office, shut the door and said: 'Do you want to start a school?' "

Two weeks later, they had both quit their jobs and devoted themselves to the project full time.

Another early supporter of Legal Prep was Bill Lowry, an African-American attorney and one of the first board members. His involvement with the school is one way he works to change the demographics of his field. In 2005, among the top 10 largest Illinois law firms, 3.6 percent of equity partners were minorities; a decade later, that figure is 5.4 percent, according to the 2015 annual survey by Chicago Lawyer.

Lowry is helping some Legal Prep seniors navigate the college admissions process — including Leverston, who was inspired by the tour of colleges in the South.

Leverston acknowledges that he got off to a rocky start at Legal Prep, with low grades and an expulsion hearing. He credits his English teacher for helping turn things around. "Miss [Melinda] Benson told me I was bright. She said that she didn't want me to end up in jail or dead. So I made her a promise that I'd change my act and graduate on time."

But even with his newfound resolve, he has an uphill climb: A 2.02 GPA and an ACT of 18.

"I know I can do better," he said. "I can be a better man."