At the time I was ranked #5 in my high school graduating class, was on track to graduate and had received advanced proficient scores on my high school proficiency exams. I had chosen to attend Seton Hall University on a full tuition scholarship. I felt invincible, unstoppable, untouchable. Some would classify me as a rose growing in the concrete. I was considered one of the best and the brightest at Plainfield High School; my parents were gleaming with pride and I held my head high, I Latisha A. Harris had declared my destiny. I Felt entitled to my many blessings and was ready to take the next step. Having taken advantage of numerous honors and AP courses throughout my high school career, I believed that I sat amongst scholars. I looked down on those students who "just couldn't get right." I made it. There was no excuse why they fell victims to cyclical poverty, cheating themselves out of opportunities which sat right in front of them waiting for someone to take the initiative. To put it blatantly, I felt powerful, totally oblivious to my stark reality.
Students from all over gathered in classrooms across the country, anxious to take AP exams which would earn them college credit. Eager to break the seal on those test booklets, my peers and I cracked open our exam packet, read the instructions, then let out a hearty laugh. Nothing was funny, though; laughter was our way of coping with a reality we weren't ready to face nor knew was coming. We were close to graduating, had poured everything into our education, but all-in-all we were not ready for college. We didn't even know where to begin on exams that we spent an entire semester preparing for. I knew I was educated in an overcrowded, low-ranking school district, but living in the "honor's track" bliss; I didn't realize I wasn't receiving the same quality of education as other students across the nation. It was that quick, with just the turn of a page that all the power I thought I had was stripped from me. In that moment I began looking at the world through a new lens. I started to blame my high school teachers, but quickly realized that there was no single teacher to blame; my unpreparedness started far before I reached high school. That moment could have knocked me down, and I could have stayed their allowing it to define me and my possibilities. This moment could have served as motivation to work on my underdeveloped skills and excel, simply for personal benefit. But on that day; instead of attempting to complete an exam that had might as well been written in Pig Latin, I made a commitment to empower and serve our youth. The children much like those that I looked down on for so many years. Their stories became relevant to me, their story not identical to mine, but yet a reflection of our environment, a reaction to our culture.
My humbling experience gave me new vision, and planted my feet firmly, grounding me with the very passion that brought me here today as a former teacher, tutor, community volunteer, and aspiring therapist. Ive stayed determined longing to break chains of mental bondage. I press forward like someone else's life depends on it...because in my eyes it does. I know I wont be anyone's savior, but my life goal is to empower, to lead our youth on a journey in which they will invest in their own future.
