why me?

The other night, my friend Victoria asked if any of my childhood playmates from South Central had gone on to college as I had. As far as I know, only a handful made it to college...and I had no clue how many of them completed their higher ed studies. Most did finish high school, although I know many who dropped out or landed in jail before reaching graduation day. Let's see, there was Ernesto (not his real name) who quit after eighth grade to work so that his family could have additional income. Then there was Nathaniel (also not his real name) who joined a local gang, ended up murdering the owner of a liquor store during a failed armed robbery, and was consquently sent to prison for life. And then there was my best friend from kindergarten, Mae, who dropped out freshman year because a group of girls threatened to do her bodily harm for (supposedly) talking to their boyfriends. Last time we spoke (about a few months ago), Mae was working at WalMart.

Whenever I speak to her, I leave the conversation wondering why me? why did I make it and not her too?

You see, Mae and I had very similar childhoods. We even share the same birthdate, coming into this world only hours apart. We were both two skinny little knobby-kneed girls who were teased mercilessly by our peers.

She: a Filipina/Mexicana who other ignorant ghetto children repeatedly called "Chinese"
Me: a brown-skinned "Creole of Color" with a French surname everyone purposely mispronounced

We were both being raised by widowed grandmothers living just above the poverty line. We went to the same preschool (a rare thing for inner-city kids). We attended the same Catholic elementary school on scholarship, had all the same teachers, and earned virtually the same grades. We went on to the same Catholic middle school...still thick as thieves and still skinny nerds.

But then our paths began to diverge. I went on to attend an elite, independent girls' prep school across town, thanks to more scholarships and financial aid. Mae enrolled in a Catholic girls' school close to our neighborhood. Our ninth grade year was the first time in nearly a decade that we would not be in the same school. It would also be Mae's last year of formal education.

I can't explain it. I don't know why she dropped out...well, I know the reasons she gave, but I don't know how and why the system could have let her drift away. Since then, she's tried numerous times to complete her education and earn a GED. What hurts me most is the knowledge that, even with a GED, her future prospects (career options, potential earnings, quality of life, etc.) are still not as bright as someone with a college degree or even just a high school diploma.

I may never know the answer to my question. I do know that certain favorable conditions improve the likelihood that children born into poverty can break the cycle that often dooms their families. It has become my mission to ensure every child receieves and completes a quality education and has the opportunity to go as far as possible in achieving it. After teaching immigrant students back in South Central for two years, I now know that the fight for educational equality cannot be fought on US soil alone. My romanticized view of France aside, I'm taking this struggle global--to the UK, Europe, Africa, Asia and Latin America.

First stop, London's inner city...