“One would become a doctor. One would become a cellist. One would become a UPS driver. One would kill herself. One would kill his father.”
In 1988, two wealthy businessmen offered free college tuition to a classroom of underprivileged kids in Washington. In a three-part series, Paul Schwartzman finds out what happened to the fifth graders from Seat Pleasant Elementary School.
This is the best thing the Post has done, perhaps ever and definitely in the past few years. I talk often about how the Los Angeles Times is killing it and is the best daily around right now because their local coverage is interesting, compassionate, and thorough; it’s nice to see the Post remember that it exists in a place where people live, not just where people make laws.
(Confidential to User washingtonpoststyle, Seat Pleasant isn’t actually in Washington, D.C. It’s in Prince George’s County. You need to tack on “-area.”)
This is great, and it highlights/obliterates the most bullshit reductive arguments that Gene Marks made in that atrocious Forbes article - if all of my students were presented with the opportunity to have college paid for (and lack of funding is probably the least challenging obstacle between my students and a college education), how many of them would be able to succeed in that environment once they arrived there? How many would enter college with the necessary skills to actually do well academically? We teach to college readiness skills, but as one of my students put it best, “y’all are NOT preparing me for college and I’m going to fail when I get there because I’m not learning anything.” Throwing money at these kids is unfortunately not a cure-all for the general lack of resources that tends to shape the opportunities (or lack thereof) for poor children of color in urban schools. That being said and obviously well-known, this article does a great job depicting the tension between the tangible and intangible aspects of opportunity presented to these children. And it made me cry when I was reading it because let’s be real, sometimes I feel like my entire job can be summed up with the phrase “too much, too late.”
