As a current graduate student at The George Washington University who is working towards a degree in Bilingual Special Education, I am forced each day to re-evaluate the role I could potentially play in education.
As a product of a New York City Title I high school, I remember sitting in my high school classroom being told that out of a 1,000 or so seniors, only a handful of us would graduate. I couldn’t help but often ask myself, would I be one of those students?
Walking into a school faced with challenges, from the security guards to the metal detectors to the fights that broke out each day, I wondered if I would ever get out. What other kinds of thoughts could such a school environment provoke? However, I was lucky that I was raised in a household where dropping out of school wasn’t an option. With siblings whose specific circumstances prevented them from graduating high school, I was surely lucky.
Yet today I think about the idea of being lucky and laugh. As though some of us are lucky enough to gain a college education while others aren’t lucky enough. Unfortunately, it’s a mentality that plagues high school students everywhere. Who will have their cards line up just right, so that they can walk in brightly colored gowns on graduation day? In a high school where my day-to-day presence didn’t seem valued, luck seemed like the only thing that might get me through.
Consequently, my own focus in recent years has been on how to recognize and appreciate the role of different races and cultures in education. Honestly, to me these differences often seem ignored. I say this from experience working with students within New York State’s opportunity programs, which focused on helping students from underrepresented minority groups to attend college. In working with extremely talented groups of students year after year, I saw first-hand the lack of college preparation afforded to them by their high schools. It also appeared as though not many felt like their own cultural experiences were valued, because they hadn’t yet learned to value them themselves.
I believe that this is one of the reasons why predominately white higher education institutions have lower African, Latino, Asian and Native American (ALANA) student retention rates compared to their white counterparts. Most of the time valuing your own cultural experience comes in college, and often times that’s too late for many. How are high school students from these cultures viewing public education, which is supposedly built around their needs? Are different experiences valued and reflected in education policy on local and federal levels?
In reflecting on my own experience and understanding the experience of others, I can begin to untangle my role in sharing a counter narrative. I hope to gain a better understanding of education in general by widening my lens and looking at other aspects of education. I’m exploring my role more and more, understanding that at this point, I would like to keep focusing on the idea that there are people’s lives on the line rather than just percentages, statistics and figures. – Joyti Jiandani

