I'm a big fan of the Center for Student Opportunity, a nonprofit organization with a mission to promote college access and opportunity among first-generation and historically underserved student populations. They've produced a very fine guidebook of colleges that focuses on information particularly appropriate to these students, including what support is offered, scholarships and so on. It also has essays and tips from experts in the front. I saw the first edition last year at NACAC and bought ten copies on the spot to give to the charter school counselors I've been working with over the past two years.
CSO has also created a strong website called College Center that lets students search for college access programs, ask experts questions about the college process and search for colleges offering advising, mentoring, transition programs, and so on. I expect them to continue adding to the list as they go on.
Colleges can find out how to partner with CSO to reach underserved students by clicking here. With a contribution to CSO (based on Carnegie Classification), institutions can not only reach individual students but also community organizations. Everybody wins.
CSO's most recent addition is a blog section where ten students from minority, low-income, and first-generation backgrounds are sharing their stories or high school and college. The initial entries have the energy of a new project, projecting optimism and immediacy. Although there are only a few from each student so far, I hope they continue to record their thoughts and experiences for the benefit of their peers about to go through the process themselves.
Their situations reflect the concerns that many first-generation students have, such as having to be an example for their younger siblings and communities. They are also poignant in their forthrightness--one student blogger talks about how she discovered she was pregnant while she was applying to colleges. This forthrightness can help students who think that personal circumstances make it impossible to think about continuing their educations. (They blog as part of their having become Opportunity Scholars--see below.)
If you are a counselor or community volunteer who works with first-generation, low-income, and otherwise underserved students, the Center for Student Opportunity can be a great help. Not only does the website have excellent resources, there is also a page where you can download free guides for helping high school students, parents/families, and others. Students also have the opportunity to be nominated as Opportunity Scholars; if selected, they receive college counseling support from a network of volunteer counselors as well as a chance for a $1,000.00 renewable scholarship in college.
If you are a college and want to expand your outreach to underrepresented students, be sure to look at CSO's Colleges Partnership Program.
There's plenty more to explore on the site, and I expect it just to get better and better as more and more individuals and institutions connect to it. It is a welcome and necessary resource for the students we serve.
Showing posts with label first generation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first generation. Show all posts
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Back to the Future
Those of us who applied to college thirty or so years ago seem mostly to have tossed out a few applications, taken the SAT or ACT once, and then gotten on with the rest of our high school lives. We waited and hoped for the best. Some of us were lucky enough to have a counselor who casually mentioned a college or two we'd never heard of and encouraged us to apply, which we did. That was certainly my experience. Mr. Boulhouwer, counselor at West Morris Regional H.S. in Chester NJ is responsible for my applying to and eventually attending Amherst College in Amherst MA. He suggested I try a "liberal arts" college. After explaining to me what that was, he tossed out Amherst and I said I'd give it a shot. The rest, as they say, is history. (To this day I'm convinced that I didn't even know Amherst was all-male until I got there; I probably would have been a Williams alum if he'd said "Williams" instead.)
I've joked with any number of adults of about my age who have similar stories about how they got to their alma maters: the chance remark, the off-hand suggestion by a math teacher, or the casual observation by a respected neighbor or relative. There was no strategizing, no long-term planning, no multiple testing, no weighing the pros and cons of every school. At some level, we knew we'd be fine anywhere we went and we trusted that the schools would make good decisions (although not necessarily the ones we wanted). Once the applications were done we went about our business. And in fact we did turn out pretty well, most of us.
Having made the transition from working with the uber-strategic to the underserved, I've discovered many similarities between the latter and my generation of college-goers. Low-income and first generation students interested in going to college tend to be hard workers fully involved in their schools and communities, out of choice and necessity. They're not strategizers, they're young people who hope their talents and experiences will be enough to get them admitted to college; that is to say, they haven't been good students and participants in order to get into college, they're going to get into college because they're good students and participants. They're not multi-testers trying to break 2200, they're test takers because they have to be, and let it go at that. Most of them can't afford, literally or figuratively, to spend hours and hours parsing essay questions; they've got real things to do.
In these ways and others, I'm finding that the low-income and first-generation students I work with are very much like we were many years ago when it comes to college admission. Without romanticizing too much, I'd say that they have an authenticity that colleges and universities say they want, an openness to and desire for new experiences that can make them exceptional students in any classroom. Yes, many of them are rough around the edges and many have gone through things we wouldn't wish on anyone, but they have a resilience and even an optimism that make them wonderful to work with. They believe that college is going to help them live better lives and learn important things; they are honored to be chosen and pleased to have the opportunities to advance; they are grateful to be able to fulfill their hopes and dreams and those of their families. They don't see college acceptance as a right or a mark of innate privilege; they see it as the result of hard work and determination. And they're willing to bring these qualities to campus.
For these students, applying to college is an adjunct to their lives, not their purpose in life, as it seems to be for so many of their overprivileged peers. And in that way, they avoid the largely self-created stress we hear way too much about. Their lives are their own and if a college accepts them, that's great; if not, they'll try again. It makes me hopeful for the future.
I've joked with any number of adults of about my age who have similar stories about how they got to their alma maters: the chance remark, the off-hand suggestion by a math teacher, or the casual observation by a respected neighbor or relative. There was no strategizing, no long-term planning, no multiple testing, no weighing the pros and cons of every school. At some level, we knew we'd be fine anywhere we went and we trusted that the schools would make good decisions (although not necessarily the ones we wanted). Once the applications were done we went about our business. And in fact we did turn out pretty well, most of us.
Having made the transition from working with the uber-strategic to the underserved, I've discovered many similarities between the latter and my generation of college-goers. Low-income and first generation students interested in going to college tend to be hard workers fully involved in their schools and communities, out of choice and necessity. They're not strategizers, they're young people who hope their talents and experiences will be enough to get them admitted to college; that is to say, they haven't been good students and participants in order to get into college, they're going to get into college because they're good students and participants. They're not multi-testers trying to break 2200, they're test takers because they have to be, and let it go at that. Most of them can't afford, literally or figuratively, to spend hours and hours parsing essay questions; they've got real things to do.
In these ways and others, I'm finding that the low-income and first-generation students I work with are very much like we were many years ago when it comes to college admission. Without romanticizing too much, I'd say that they have an authenticity that colleges and universities say they want, an openness to and desire for new experiences that can make them exceptional students in any classroom. Yes, many of them are rough around the edges and many have gone through things we wouldn't wish on anyone, but they have a resilience and even an optimism that make them wonderful to work with. They believe that college is going to help them live better lives and learn important things; they are honored to be chosen and pleased to have the opportunities to advance; they are grateful to be able to fulfill their hopes and dreams and those of their families. They don't see college acceptance as a right or a mark of innate privilege; they see it as the result of hard work and determination. And they're willing to bring these qualities to campus.
For these students, applying to college is an adjunct to their lives, not their purpose in life, as it seems to be for so many of their overprivileged peers. And in that way, they avoid the largely self-created stress we hear way too much about. Their lives are their own and if a college accepts them, that's great; if not, they'll try again. It makes me hopeful for the future.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Fizzy Aspirations & Constipated Dreams
I've just returned from an informal session with some students participating in a mentoring program sponsored and run by 100 Black Men of Chicago. They work with African American high school boys on topics from academics to health; I was asked to do a college presentation and work individually with some of their seniors. And I have to say how inspired I am after that session.
About ten students were there (including one girl, the sister of one of the boys), with six seniors and the rest from other classes. The seniors by and large had actually done most of their applications and some had even heard back from the colleges they had applied to! I was pleasantly surprised to learn that they'd really done their homework. The biggest issue I ended up illuminating for them was college costs: Most said they'd been told by their teachers that going out of state for college would cost them more than staying in state. I quickly put that myth to rest and did an impromptu college financial aid presentation, which visibly relieved not only the students but also the mentors.
The range of aspiration varied but I could tell that with enough lead time any one of the boys there could probably do well enough in high school to attend a decent college. The most prepared had actually visited Pepperdine, and knew a great deal about the process. But all the seniors except one had at least put in an application. And they seemed not to be very stressed about it.
The other concept I wish I'd had more time to talk about is "fit." The sister who was there said she'd gotten several full ride scholarship offers as well as some partial scholarships. I said that was great but that she should be sure to go to a school that met her needs, not just one that was free. I think she took that to heart because I saw her writing information down and going through the "compare colleges" pages of the College Board site that I'd steered her to.
One reason I'm so inspired by this Saturday morning meeting is that it was good to see kids and their mentors focused on college and trying to make a difference in their lives. I was impressed by the men in the room and felt that they were putting a lot of themselves out there for the good of the next generation. I confess that I don't see middle class and prosperous African American adult males in groups very often, so I was humbled and full of admiration at the same time. I realized how provincial I am despite my best intentions, but I was greeted and thanked warmly, given plenty of time to do my presentation and share in the men's desire to do something right with and for these boys.
Another reason for my excitement is the wonderful contrast between working with this group and working with the families of my former employer. The freshness and eagerness of the African American boys I saw today stood in such contrast to the constipated dreams of the parents I once worked with. These were parents for whom having to go to Tufts instead of Brown was a major tragedy; for whom not getting into a "name" school was simply "unacceptable" and a failure (of mine, not their child's); for whom any little twig of advantage had to be grabbed to give someone already supremely privileged another "edge" into Valhalla.
It's such a relief to be out of that niggardly, grasping, contentious, and status-anxious world. It feels so immensely better to be devoting my time and talents to students and parents who can really use my help and who actually appreciate it, who believe that hard work really does matter, not just who you know or how you construct yourself according to some nasty "How to Get Into College Book." I think that the kids I work with now are more authentic and actually more desirable in many ways, despite academic lacunae, and that with the right support an inspiration early enough they could do just as well as the overbred scions of the crafty elite. Let's not forget that George Bush drank and C'd his way through Yale; I'd put up any of the kids I've met in the last year against him and feel confident they could do better at running a country, never mind four years in college.
I haven't looked back at my former school with anything much more than pity since I left (not voluntarily but willingly). The endless agonizing over iotas of meaning in instructions and points on tests, the ceaseless strategizing that finally erodes any traces of interesting character traits, the fierce determination to "win" at any cost, and the sad Bataan death march that is high school for these students, even one that purports to give them so much (that's another story), left me feeling sorry for them and pity for their parents. But in the end there was no real help for them--they all wanted what they wanted and refused to accept less than that, despite the fact that they received more than they deserved in the first place. I'm glad to be with kids and adults who see the world head on and are willing to take it as it comes, rather than always trying to find a way around it; I'm glad to see the spark in a young African American boy's face when you tell him he can indeed go to college. I live for that now and feel like it's what I should have been doing before.
It takes time to learn these things--but better late than never.
About ten students were there (including one girl, the sister of one of the boys), with six seniors and the rest from other classes. The seniors by and large had actually done most of their applications and some had even heard back from the colleges they had applied to! I was pleasantly surprised to learn that they'd really done their homework. The biggest issue I ended up illuminating for them was college costs: Most said they'd been told by their teachers that going out of state for college would cost them more than staying in state. I quickly put that myth to rest and did an impromptu college financial aid presentation, which visibly relieved not only the students but also the mentors.
The range of aspiration varied but I could tell that with enough lead time any one of the boys there could probably do well enough in high school to attend a decent college. The most prepared had actually visited Pepperdine, and knew a great deal about the process. But all the seniors except one had at least put in an application. And they seemed not to be very stressed about it.
The other concept I wish I'd had more time to talk about is "fit." The sister who was there said she'd gotten several full ride scholarship offers as well as some partial scholarships. I said that was great but that she should be sure to go to a school that met her needs, not just one that was free. I think she took that to heart because I saw her writing information down and going through the "compare colleges" pages of the College Board site that I'd steered her to.
One reason I'm so inspired by this Saturday morning meeting is that it was good to see kids and their mentors focused on college and trying to make a difference in their lives. I was impressed by the men in the room and felt that they were putting a lot of themselves out there for the good of the next generation. I confess that I don't see middle class and prosperous African American adult males in groups very often, so I was humbled and full of admiration at the same time. I realized how provincial I am despite my best intentions, but I was greeted and thanked warmly, given plenty of time to do my presentation and share in the men's desire to do something right with and for these boys.
Another reason for my excitement is the wonderful contrast between working with this group and working with the families of my former employer. The freshness and eagerness of the African American boys I saw today stood in such contrast to the constipated dreams of the parents I once worked with. These were parents for whom having to go to Tufts instead of Brown was a major tragedy; for whom not getting into a "name" school was simply "unacceptable" and a failure (of mine, not their child's); for whom any little twig of advantage had to be grabbed to give someone already supremely privileged another "edge" into Valhalla.
It's such a relief to be out of that niggardly, grasping, contentious, and status-anxious world. It feels so immensely better to be devoting my time and talents to students and parents who can really use my help and who actually appreciate it, who believe that hard work really does matter, not just who you know or how you construct yourself according to some nasty "How to Get Into College Book." I think that the kids I work with now are more authentic and actually more desirable in many ways, despite academic lacunae, and that with the right support an inspiration early enough they could do just as well as the overbred scions of the crafty elite. Let's not forget that George Bush drank and C'd his way through Yale; I'd put up any of the kids I've met in the last year against him and feel confident they could do better at running a country, never mind four years in college.
I haven't looked back at my former school with anything much more than pity since I left (not voluntarily but willingly). The endless agonizing over iotas of meaning in instructions and points on tests, the ceaseless strategizing that finally erodes any traces of interesting character traits, the fierce determination to "win" at any cost, and the sad Bataan death march that is high school for these students, even one that purports to give them so much (that's another story), left me feeling sorry for them and pity for their parents. But in the end there was no real help for them--they all wanted what they wanted and refused to accept less than that, despite the fact that they received more than they deserved in the first place. I'm glad to be with kids and adults who see the world head on and are willing to take it as it comes, rather than always trying to find a way around it; I'm glad to see the spark in a young African American boy's face when you tell him he can indeed go to college. I live for that now and feel like it's what I should have been doing before.
It takes time to learn these things--but better late than never.
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