By the end of my freshman year at a public high school in Santa Barbara, California, I had had enough.
Enough of the lewd comments and harassment I encountered daily. Enough of watching students come to class stoned or drunk. And enough of the racial tension that culminated for me when I was physically threatened by a gang of Hispanic girls because I had white friends.
To make matters worse, no one at the school seemed to care about any of this. Administrators didn't protect students from harassment in the hallways. Teachers didn't reprimand the students who disrupted class. Few showed concern if a student flunked all of his courses. I went for weeks without attending class, but no teacher ever said a word and my parents never found out. I came very close to dropping out, which would not have surprised my teachers. I am the youngest of seven children, born to immigrant parents from rural Mexico. My father has a third-grade education, and my mother never attended school. They never learned to speak English. My older brothers did not attend college; my older sisters became pregnant at an early age and dropped out of high school.
If I had stayed in my public school, I would surely have lost all interest in education. But I was lucky to have parents who scrimped and saved to send me, beginning in my sophomore year, to a private school that emphasized competence and character. It was a turning point: I rediscovered my ardor for learning. I graduated with honors and I was admitted this fall as a transfer student to Harvard University.
What was it about Brighton Academy, a small private school in Grants Pass, Oregon, that helped turn me around? In a word: leadership. The faculty and administration were interested in producing not only good students, but good people. I was once again free to focus on academics because I was no longer wasting my energy living in fear of school.
At my private school, adults weren't afraid to exercise authority in a sensitive yet firm manner, and for this they earned the students' respect. Teachers wouldn't tolerate tardiness, inappropriate dress, or disruption. When a student was caught with drugs, not only was he punished and his parents informed, but the administration addressed the entire student body about it.
Our teachers emphasized discipline and character. They taught us not to capitulate to peer pressure, reminding us that it takes strength and individuality to stand for what one believes. School officials regularly rewarded good conduct, through public praise and student-of-the-month awards.
Our instructors were exceptional not only because they got to know us outside of school -- in our neighborhoods and churches, and even at family picnics -- but because they were obviously committed to us as students. Brighton cannot afford to pay its teachers competitive salaries, and many teachers take, without complaint, outside jobs during the school year.
Contrary to many assumptions about private education, the student body at Brighton came from working-class and middle-class families. Parents held monthly rummage sales. Students took after-school jobs to help pay their tuition.
Sadly, the most powerful lessons of my public school -- listen to peers, not parents; disrespect authority; learn not to care about learning -- directly undermined those I was taught at home. But my private school emphasized that parents are a child's primary moral teachers, and they did everything to support parents in this role. Parents were integrated into the school community via planning committees, monthly all-school meetings, student-teacher conferences, and invitations to all school functions.
I thank my teachers at this wonderful school who cared that I learned. Although they made less money than my public-school teachers, they awakened my love of learning, and they taught the principles -- integrity, honesty, courage -- that have enabled me to pursue my dreams.
