The Antidote

Seven weeks ago I moved to San Francisco. It truly is a magical city, and as I write, I stare out my window onto the beautiful bay and across it to the east. When the fog rolls in during the evening, it looks like a blanket over a sleeping baby. When I drive across the bridge in the morning, it slowly recedes, revealing Oakland. The biggest difference between the figurative baby and Oakland is that, unfortunately, the infantile innocence does not exist there. I thought for some convoluted reason that living in San Francisco among the vibrance, the culture, the story-telling hills, and the rapturous elegance would leave me immune to the virus that has infected the city across the bridge. I quickly realized that immunity does not exist, and if it did, it would only leave me lonely and paralyzed, ignorant and purpose-less. So, ignorant I am not, and infected I will not become. My hope is that the young people I serve at BUILD won't either. I pray that they will see education as the antidote.

I visited Oakland Technical High School this week - one of the schools I will teach entrepreurship in this fall. When I went, other than the fact that it is a comprehensive high school, I noticed something very different. The palate making up the student body is much more colorful than before. Unlike my experience in St. Louis, only 60% of the population is African American. What is not differerent, however, is the level of achievement of these black students.

I took a look at the data from last year's state assessment. Comparatively, 73% of white ninth graders were proficient or above in English while only 16% of black freshmen were. In 10th grade, the gap increased - 79% and 13% and for juniors, 87% and 13%. Quickly it became evident: the mission of both organizations I have worked for contains the wrong language. It is not just about socioeconomic status. Serving students in under-resourced schools at large is important, but serving under-resourced, under-achieving black students is essential if we are truly going to change the community.

I have been battling this thought in my head for days primarily because the reality is too hard to face. The numbers are too hard to read and analyze. The news is too devastating to accept, particularly in the wake of a series of violent crimes and murders plaguing the city. But facing and reading and analyzing is what I must do to ensure that my black students get what they deserve and what they need to be the positive agents of change themselves.

Everyday I look at my necklace, and I read what Gandhi said: "Be the change you wish to see in the world." I actually do not know the context surrouding its initial utterance, but as I become acclimated again with being a positive change in students' lives - showing them unconditional love, investing time and resources in them, teaching them, learning from them, treating them as human beings - I realize that it is not so much about the gap or about the color of their skin or about the crime. Being the change here is about compassion and about making the choice not to lose sight of the vision of equity.

My students will achieve entrepreneur status by May 2007 whether the virus is eliminated from the streets or not. My students will be entrepreneurs regardless of the gap. My students will be entrepreneurs, and this entrepreneurial education they are given will be the catalyst. They will be the antidote. They will be the change.