The following is a reflection written by Samantha Robinson, one of this year's North House Volunteers.
I’d like to tell you that she is one of our scholar success stories at the Illinois Education Foundation, but she isn’t, not yet at least. This bright girl must have done something to earn a nearly flawless grade point average. She must have worked as hard as the majority, if not all, of her class. She must have done something to win the hearts of her classmates. By all reasonable standards this young woman should be excelling in college and well on her way to an associate’s and later a bachelor’s degree.
Instead, she struggled to scrape out a D in a math course two levels below college credit. She’s currently retaking a beginner’s level English course. Hours of tutoring and she can’t meet the 2.5 GPA requirement that her scholarship program requires for renewal.
What’s wrong when a hardworking woman with a great personality can’t seem to make 1 + 1 = 2? Well, the way I see it is this: She was unprepared, and I don’t think anyone in their right mind can blame it on her. She must have studied for her tests. She must have written to the standards asked of her. She wouldn’t have done so well in her school if she hadn’t. But somewhere along the line, she either wasn’t taught, or wasn’t held to, the standards we expect of our high school graduates. She’s the victim of an underfunded, inadequate education system. And yes, I know the word “victim” sounds dramatic, but the problem is I’m not dramatizing. And the even bigger problem is that she’s not alone.
Having experience with scholars like this in my time working at the IEF has been frustrating. I’ve sometimes become outraged. How can one of the most “advanced” societies send a girl off to college without first making sure she can do arithmetic? Arithmetic, people! That’s stuff we actually need in real life! How can this happen?
On the other hand, I’ve also had those amazing heart-warming and tears-flowing moments of joy because I’ve seen what a difference our organization can do to help these scholars and what they can do to help themselves.
Take another one of my scholars for example. Average GPA. Nothing that really stood out when you saw his “credentials” on paper. But so far, he’s proving to be a success story.
With the inspiration of his grandfather at his back and the example of a mentor at his feet, this scholar has gained an appreciation and a motivation for succeeding in school. He now has a 3.5 GPA, a job that he really likes, and a mentor who he hangs out with all the time, a mentor who likes to write lyrics and rap just like him, a mentor who has inspired him so much that he spends what little extra time he has reading his mentor’s book. The smile on his face when he showed me his first A on an English paper, the pride in his voice when he talks about his mentor… let’s just say this scholar has accounted for several tears on my part and none of them bad ones.
So after working at the IEF and seeing both the effects of assistance at the higher-ed level, as well as the failure that presents such a need, I wonder where do I go from here?
My dream is for education in this country to be equal, for little girls and boys at such-and-such Chicago Public School to get the same quality education as fill-in-the-blank suburban rich school. My dream is for higher education, including bachelor’s degrees, associate’s degrees, master’s degrees, and certificate programs to be free and accessible to all. My dream is for all high school grads to be able to complete basic arithmetic and be able to write an organized and understandable essay.
The frustration from witnessing my scholars’ struggles has often caused me to imagine myself creating change. I often imagine myself as a powerful community leader, government official, or the like—speaking forcefully to Congress, demanding that they take steps to equalizing our system. In my imagination, I’m often pumping my right fist high in the air and people are inspired and the applause that follows quickly leads to action.
But then I come back to reality. How could I, me, Samantha Robinson ever make that happen? I was a political science major, but it doesn’t take that to realize how hard it would be to actually make these dreams for education a reality. Do I put myself on a path that attempts to make progress towards this goal or do I dedicate myself to helping the individuals suffering from these problems?
I haven’t figured out the answer to this in my time in Amate, but I have learned one thing: I’m an eight. That may not mean much if you’ve never taken an enneagram workshop like us Amate folks have, but some words associated with this type are challenger, strong, assertive, domineering, and confrontational. On one hand people guess that Saddam Hussein was “an eight.” On the other hand people also guess that Martin Luther King Jr. and Franklin Roosevelt were “eights.”
What I’ve realized is that my personality type may not be perfect in every situation. Sometimes speaking your mind, bringing up conflicts, and challenging people doesn’t go over so well. What I’ve also realized is that there must be a reason that I notice problems, that I’m eager to bring them to the surface, a reason that I’m strong and assertive and confrontational.
This newfound knowledge of “my number” has led me to believe that at some point in my life I’m going to have to be proactive about the issue of education that I’ve realized to be one of my passions. Maybe I will dedicate myself to a career in government. Maybe I will dedicate myself to a career in direct service. Maybe I will start in direct service and end up in government. Maybe I’ll be doing something else completely. In any case, I’m going to try to be an advocate, in whatever small and big ways I can.
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