Letter to first-year college students of color

I just finished teaching English in the Gateway program, a program designed to provide incoming students of color with an opportunity to get to know the UMM campus before everyone else arrives. (I didn't manage to post last night because I was busy grading--and then busy enjoying the Stevens County fair). The program includes academic components, workshops on college life, and fun activities. Teaching in this program is one of the most rewarding parts of my job. This year, I wrote the students a letter on the last day. I've included it below because I think it is relevant for anyone who teaches or takes classes; it also references some of my favorite short stories and essays.

Dear Gateway students,

In lieu of sharing a poem today, I decided to write you a letter explaining why I chose the readings I chose for this class. I hoped that they would lead you to begin your time in college with some questions in your mind, questions that do not have an easy answer but that I hope you will ponder throughout your time in college.

The first question is, “What will it mean for you to become educated?” In other words, is your education going to be about separating yourself from your past, or learning to understand that past in new ways? Will you approach education as a series of hoops you have to jump through, as Richard Rodriguez admits he did in “The Achievement of Desire?” Or, will you use what you have learned to create positive changes in your communities and in your own lives?

The second question is, “Will pay attention to the overall quality of your life, or only to your achievements?” In Gish Jen’s story “Who’s Irish?,” the daughter Natalie becomes a successful vice-president of a bank, but her life otherwise is unhappy, and her connections to others, at least as far as we can tell from the grandmother’s perspective, are tenuous at best. This question is really about balance. Is it possible to cherish the core of who you are, the redeeming and amazing parts of your heritage and culture and experiences, throughout your life? Is it possible to mourn and/or reject the parts of your past that have done more damage than good? You have to answer these questions for yourself, but I believe these things are possible, but only if you apply every piece of new knowledge you learn—as well as the knowledge you have already acquired from your first 18 or so years of life—to the life that is now unfolding, while also being flexible and open to change.

Which leads to the third question: “How will you deal with change?” College will stretch you, force you to consider viewpoints you’ve never considered and to make decisions you never thought you’d have to make. Each time you encounter a new viewpoint or have to make a difficult decision, you will have to decide whether you will act in fear or in love (for yourself and for others). In Randall Kenan’s story “The Foundations of the Earth,” the character Maggie chose love; I hope you will do the same.

And a final question: “How will you deal with the pressure you face to be a hero?” In Sherman Alexie’s story “The Only Traffic Signal on the Reservation Doesn’t Flash Red Anymore,” Julius Windmaker (and before him, Victor) faced the pressure of being a hero for their community. I know from the essays you wrote on the second day of class that many of you face the same pressure, although in a different way. You might be the first in your family to go to college, or even to graduate from high school. You might have family members or people in your community who are pushing you to be even more successful than they were in life. There may be people who don’t believe you will finish, and people who are counting on you to finish because they need you to do what they could not do. I have seen too many students of color and working class/poor students—as well as students who for other reasons face a lot of pressure from their families or communities--lose themselves in this pressure, holding themselves to standards higher than anyone can possibly achieve, or simply deciding to give up before failing. Don’t be one of those students. If you’re thinking about dropping out, talk to me or someone else you trust first.

Will you be able to do what Victor and Adrian were unable to do? Will you be able to shift your sense of responsibility from “I don’t want to disappoint anyone” to “I have to make my own decisions and live my own life” to “I am responsible for taking care of myself and creating positive changes in my community, and it’s possible to do both at the same time?” Many of you faulted Victor and Adrian for sitting on their porch day in and day out, never reaching out to the young people on the reservation; think about how you can do better.

I wish I had the time to make this letter more personal (i.e, write each of you a separate letter)—but I hope that something in this letter will resonate with you. Teaching Gateway is one of the most rewarding things I do at UMM, second only to seeing my Gateway students graduate. By the way, if you are wondering why you never got back the essays you wrote me on the second day of class about how you came to be in college: I will return them to you with a more personal note in a graduation card in four years. I think they will have some resonance at that point in your life and provide you with a chance to reflect back about what you were thinking about at the start of your college journey. So, between now and then, be sure to stay in touch!

Argie