Profiles of an American Classroom: The One Who Changed Everything
part 3
As a small town girl, raised in rural Texas during the eighties and nineties, I found Tulsa’s 2006 Memorial High School to be chaotic, undisciplined, and a little out of control. Corey, on the other hand, found it to be structured, safe, orderly, and predictable when compared to his former Detroit school experience. Everything is relative, right?
Living on Tulsa’s north side, which is highly concentrated with gangs and gang violence, Corey’s Aunt Deborah made arrangements for Corey to be bused south to attend a high school outside of his new zip code. (Busing students across town to various schools within the Tulsa Public School system became the norm many years ago to better facilitate desegregation.) Corey struggled to find his fit. While he never really longed for the life of a gangbanger, he couldn’t ignore their heavy presence; gang life was all around him. Gang affiliation was a significant part of the school’s culture, regardless of efforts to eliminate it. North side students saw it as a ‘Crip’ school; while those living in Memorial zip codes may have seen it through different lenses. Ultimately, Corey never joined a gang but did entertain the idea from time to time. He was offered initiation and had friends who were gang members. He even had a teacher once accuse him of being in a gang. When asked why he didn’t cave to the surrounding pressure, he later told me, “I didn’t want to die.” Even though he did not spend time in the principal’s office or get in trouble at school, he still felt labeled as a black kid from the rougher, north side of town.
While many teachers did their best to reach and educate students, others appeared to be worn down by the increasing demands of “the system” and the reality… teaching students from difficult places is hard! (A gross understatement.) Some teachers seemed to lack empathy and understanding of their students’ home lives. Throughout the time I worked with Corey, he was either sleeping on his aunt’s couch or sleeping on the floor in a closet of his cousin’s apartment. Food was scarce most of the time. Resources were nonexistent. Transportation, outside of riding the bus to and from school, was a challenge.
I’ll share a simple example of one educator’s lack of awareness. Corey and fellow classmates were tasked with writing a major research paper but given surprisingly limited time in the school library and/or computer lab. I reached out to the teacher to explain the fact Corey, along with many of his classmates, had no internet access at home and lacked reliable and reasonable transportation to public libraries. She seemed indifferent and appeared to have no appreciation for the problem. I explained Corey had to come to our house to use our internet service for the good portion of two full days (Saturday and Sunday) in an effort to meet her deadline. What about the countless other students without resources?
By this juncture, I was a full-time algebra teacher at a school 7 miles away from Memorial. However, I still took my role as Corey’s personal academic advocate seriously. So, I wrote emails, made phone calls, set up conferences with teachers. I often found myself feeling frustrated for him and with various teachers from time to time. Many, many gaps exist in the educational system. “Cracks”, if you will. It is so easy for students like Corey to fall through those cracks. What’s being done to fill them? There seems to be a disconnect from the reality so many students face when trying to navigate and meet the demands of our educational system.
Following the many ups and downs and occasional uncertainty, Corey eventually continued and completed his high school education through Project 12 in Tulsa. He recounts one instructor who asked students to write an essay describing their life. He will never forget the praise he received from this teacher after she read his essay. Praise like this was hard to come by throughout his educational experience. Later that year, he became one of the first in his family to receive a high school diploma. This was a big deal! Furthermore, in a twist of irony, his dad was in attendance at his graduation ceremony.
On paper, Corey should have never walked across that stage. Many, if not most, of his friends dropped out well before their senior year. On paper, Corey should have joined a gang, gone to prison, or met a violent death. He acknowledges this was the fate of several kids he grew up with on the streets of Detroit and even some fellow classmates in Tulsa. However, now ten years later, Corey not only has never entered our criminal justice system, but also he is actually a productive member of society. He holds a full-time job where he enjoys the people with which he has the pleasure to work. He continually pushes himself to climb the ladder, always seeking to advance in the company.
Corey reads a lot (thank you Sylvan) and believes today he possesses the ability to view situations from different angles than before. At present, he even has a positive relationship with his dad. Corey has a young daughter of his own; she is clearly his greatest joy! Corey values his role as father and considers it his most important responsibility. He is highly motivated to provide her with the best possible life. When asked to describe where he is today, Corey used the words: progress, less hurt, less fear, more confident. He now feels free from the shackles of his youth.
When asked what crucial moments kept him on track or propelled him forward, he always brings it back to individual people, people who stepped in and stepped up. There is a long list, which probably starts with his mom and her attempt to put him in a better environment. Sadly, she passed away in 2014; as expected, he continues to bear the heavy burden of grief from her loss. While he says he has always felt pulled toward a relationship with God, there were several youth ministers who helped Corey see God had a purpose for his life. Obviously, there was his Aunt Deborah who took in a teenager who was not her own. There were the generous families and the Sylvan Learning Center director who made it possible for Corey to receive one-on-one reading instruction. There was the man who took him to learn and practice Judo. There was another family who, for a season, took him into their home. Then there was the one who regularly shared, read, and discussed Newsweek articles with him, tirelessly spoke positivity into his life, and persistently pushed him academically.
There were also experiences that made their mark, like the one he had with YoungLife. One summer during high school, Corey was able to participate in one of their week-long camps in Colorado. The experience “stirred something inside of me”, he said. Corey described the experience as the most intimate week of his life. There is no doubt, as he packed up for the journey ahead, he was more than a little terrified of riding a horse, but he got on that horse anyway. Once again, it comes back around to people; this opportunity was due to the remarkable generosity of a perfect stranger who sponsored him.
Why is this story significant? ‘Coreys’ are everywhere. They fill our American classrooms. You don’t have to look hard to find them. Or… maybe you do. Maybe your bubble is inadvertently sheltered from the ‘coreys’. The ‘coreys’ need someone like you, like me, to step in and step up as a mentor, advocate, and/or encourager. They need hope infused into their lives, hope for their futures.
Corey allowed me to share his story publicly, believing if it gave even one young person hope for their future, it was worth it. I felt moved to write and share Corey’s story because of the monumental impact he made on my story. I’ve always known I wanted to teach. The intersection of our two lives led me to recognize the kind of students I wanted to reach. Corey was the first to more fully open the door into a world with which I was previously only loosely familiar. He allowed me to take a more intimate look into the educational challenges faced by families and students with far fewer resources than provided in my middle class family. Equal opportunity does not mean equal access. My eyes were forever opened, and a passion for students like Corey was lit.
COPYRIGHT © August 26, 2019. Wendi Vassiliou. All rights reserved.