A mentor transformed me, and Pittsburgh youth deserve the same
The enthusiasm was infectious, as the prideful cheers of parents and guardians echoed in the brightly lit gymnasium of the Community College of Allegheny County's North Campus. They were supporting their middle school kids, who were showcasing their capstone STEM-based projects as part of the college's Verizon Innovative Learning summer STEM enrichment program.
The celebratory atmosphere was inspirational! To witness these middle school girls and historically under-represented students thrive, developing new skills and enhanced self-esteem, reaffirmed for me what can be accomplished with the Pittsburgh region's untapped talent base. Those middle schoolers had been engaged and empowered in a way I wish I had been at that age.
You see, growing up in Jamaica, I was somewhat of a passive resister to the formal education system and to my parents' vision, in which I was to go away to pursue a college degree. Despite my resistance, I reluctantly migrated, at the tender age of 16, from the comfort and familiarity of warm weather, bustling reggae music and spicy cuisines to the much chillier University of Massachusetts in Amherst environment.
Quite honestly, at 16 years old, I was clueless and unmotivated — if not shell-shocked —from being in an unfamiliar environment that appeared to have limited rules, no restrictions and an assumption of maturity that I did not yet possess. As you might imagine, it would lead to academic struggles. Being placed on academic probation multiple times would cause concern and frustration for my family.
For me, it would also result in misguided soul searching — not about how to rectify the academic woes, but more on identifying ways in which I could escape the intense scrutiny and attention that I felt was placed on me.
Forced out of hidingGiven the size of the institution, I felt that I was simply a number, which fed into my introverted personality and had me hiding from the expectations and accountability of being a student. Actually, I would do the bare minimum needed to compete on the university's track and field team. I was also introduced to social issues via the chaos and riot that erupted on campus after the 1986 baseball World Series in which the Boston Red Sox fell in dramatic fashion to the New York Mets.
I recall sitting in the basement of my dorm and watching that fateful moment when the ball went through the legs of first baseman Bill Buckner, and the subsequent pandemonium of cussing, broken bottles and windows within and outside of my dorm. It was deafening, but in my naivete, I never understood the magnitude of what was about to occur, until I received that call from my roommate who said, "Man stay put, don't leave your room. I am not coming back tonight, as they are chasing and beating us up."
That solemn moment would ultimately come full circle when the riot later became the subject of my doctoral dissertation.
That 'tough love' conversationMy most impactful and transformative learning experience, though, came in my senior year, during an urban education class. The learning environment was an intimate one that forced me to engage with my peers and professor in ways that I had not done before. I was empowered, challenged and inspired to new levels of academic performance.
My professor, observing my performance, eventually approached me and asked if I ever thought about graduate school. I was humbled, yet terrified of the attention and the question. Quite frankly, graduate school was never an option that I thought was realistic for me, given my academic struggles.
Uncomfortable and embarrassed at where I thought this conversation was going, I evaded multiple requests to meet with him in person. Dr. Atron Gentry, however, was diligent, firm and persuasive in finally giving me that "tough love" conversation that spoke directly to my roller coaster academic tenure at UMass. He eventually took me under his tutelage, guiding and shepherding me through my final year of undergraduate studies.
Based on my performance in his class, he gave me the opportunity, on a probationary basis, to enroll in graduate school. I would have to prove to him and myself that I would be mature and serious enough to embrace the accompanying responsibilities. What followed was a 180-degree change in my academic performance, as I thrived in an engaging and inspiring learning environment that opened my eyes to new possibilities.
Four years later, I had obtained both master's and doctoral degrees — an accomplishment that was far removed from being a college slacker. Most importantly, it spoke to the power of access, mentorship and support.
The late Dr. Gentry left me with prophetic words of wisdom: "You now know what the power of opportunity means in nurturing and developing raw and untapped talent. You have gone through it, so don't forget where you come from. You are young, talented and empowered with the knowledge base, passion and understanding to make a difference for our underserved communities. Man ... go do unto others, as I have done unto you."
Everybody needs a Dr. GentryIn 2016, after 23 years in higher ed, I arrived at CCAC, where I'm now vice president of strategic initiatives and community engagement. My UMass background coupled with the subsequent years of experience has served as the foundation shaping this critical work. I am blessed to be part of a movement regionally with CCAC and nationally with our two-year counterparts, sharing passion about access, diverse student bodies, dynamic faculty, and most importantly the transformative work that occurs on a day-to-day basis.
CCAC's work inspiring learning and credentialing and preparing the region's workforce has been characterized by the college's ability to work with a variety of partners on programs including:
We've built these programs, and others, on principles of cultural relevance, hands-on project-based learning and creating a student-centered environment — the takeaways I carried from my experience with Dr. Gentry.
It's well known that our labor market — nationally, statewide and regionally — suffers from gaps in needed skills. But another, less-publicized shortcoming is something I'll call the "awareness gap." Marginalized populations don't have the same exposure to numerous career fields and pathways, so they don't even imagine themselves as participants, let alone take the steps to develop the technical knowledge and soft skills necessary to excel.
Once in a while, that reality really hits homeA few years ago, at the end of a STEM Achievers Program session, I was touring the tables at which the young participants were showing off their projects. I saw one young team's equations and charts, and asked an 11-year-old scholar to explain it to me. He began with: "My colleague and I ..." and continued from there.
I can't remember the technical details, but those words, "My colleague and I" will be with me forever. This middle school student clearly valued teamwork. He had picked up an air of professionalism. He had the confidence to walk an adult through his work. The only thing missing was a business card. Someone had reached out to him, bridged the awareness gap, encouraged him to see himself in a new role, and very likely forged a future leader of Pittsburgh.
I was certain that, up above, with his face resting on his right hand, Dr. Gentry was smiling.
