Bria Davis didn’t have the easiest time growing up. Her mother suffered from schizophrenia and her father wasn’t around. As a result, she was placed into the foster-care system, which meant changing schools every year. “Coming out of high school, I never was in a stable place,” Davis says. Davis’ freshman year at Miami Dade College in Florida was challenging, and she eventually sought help. Now a well-acclimated sophomore, Davis decided she was in a unique position to give back. So she joined the Changemaker Corps, a peer-to-peer mentoring program by and for students who are aging out of foster care. The service year program launched at Miami Dade in 2015 with support from Service Year Alliance and the nonprofit Educate Tomorrow. The idea behind Changemaker Corps is to encourage former foster-care students who have gotten help navigating college life to pass on that wisdom to struggling students from similar backgrounds. After all, no one is more qualified to understand the difficulties facing a student emerging from the foster system than a young person who has already lived through them. “The service year model is a way for college students to serve, actually mentoring and helping others succeed,” says Brett McNaught, CEO of Educate Tomorrow. The commitment to helping this student population succeed extends to Miami Dade College’s upper leadership. “More and more universities are understanding the importance of giving their students the opportunity to get involved in this work,” says Eduardo Padron, president of Miami Dade College. “A service year should be part of every institution, where students have opportunities to help their school, their communities, and our nation.”
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NationSwell asks you to join our partnership with Service Year Alliance. Watch the video above and ask Congress to support federal funding for national service. Together, we can lead a national movement to give young Americans the opportunity to help bridge the divides in our country.
I didn’t grow up with military service in mind. Honestly, I joined the Air Force because I wanted to be an astronaut. In sixth grade, I went to a space camp and asked, simply, “How do I do this?” From then on, I became obsessed with the Air Force. I was going to join the U.S. Air Force Academy, and nothing was going to change my mind. I even carried around the Academy’s college handbook in my backpack throughout high school. I had such high aspirations for being in the military; I thought I’d be joining one huge family. But early on, I realized that wasn’t going to be the case. If the military was a family, it was one that wasn’t accepting of me. And that can make a person feel trapped and alone. Before even enlisting in 2005, the fear of being outed was on my mind. That was because at the time, you couldn’t be gay and also serve in the military. Back when social media consisted of AOL chat rooms, people would mock me when I told them I wanted to join the Air Force Academy. “‘Oh, you’re trying to go into the Air Force Academy, and you’re a fag?’” was something I heard often. So I kept it in. After high school I attended Valley Forge Military Academy, a military prep school and junior college in Pennsylvania, and I made sure to stay tight-lipped about my sexuality. It wasn’t long before I saw first-hand what happened to people like me who didn’t keep quiet. One of the cadets had been talking to other gay men online. Eventually word got out, and other cadets began blackmailing and harassing him. He was terrified, and it was my first experience of seeing what could happen to me under the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, which was still in effect. The law allowed a gay man or woman to serve in the military — so long as they stayed closeted and no one knew. If they were outed, they could be kicked out. By the time I realized my dream and enrolled at the Air Force Academy a year later, a deep loneliness had set in. At some point, you realize that you are gay and that you need to seek out your own happiness and find other people like you. So that’s what I started to do. What began as a way to simply connect and make friends with other gay cadets on Craigslist — the Academy has a unique zip code that makes it easy to find each other — turned into a nightmare. One professor, who was and still is very vocal about his ties to an anti-gay Christian organization, found out and began harassing me. When I graduated in 2009, I was being blackmailed because of my sexual orientation. This continued even after I moved down to Alabama to start my technical training. Eventually, I had a breakdown. I couldn’t handle the stress, and I came out to my straight friends serving alongside me. They were all so supportive and understanding. The next day, they voted me their flight commander. To these guys, being gay and in the military was not a big deal. And that, for me, was a big deal — that here’s all these straight guys whom I just came out to, who learned about my situation, and they not only supported me, they also saw me as a leader. That kind of empowered me to say to myself, “Wow, maybe I can change some things.” So I did. Josh Seefried, center, and members of OutServe-SLDN commemorate LGBT Pride Month at the New York Stock Exchange in 2013. In 2010, just before DADT was repealed, I started an organization called OutServe. Though its advocacy has grown in scope in the years since, OutServe’s original purpose was to build an underground network for gay service members. I advocated under a pseudonym — JD Smith — and worked on telling stories to national news networks while appearing in shadow to preserve my identity. But more than the activism, OutServe-SLDN, as it’s now known, was starting to connect people at bases. For the first time ever, service members deployed to Iraq could find another gay person and connect with them over a cup of coffee. Or if someone from Ohio was redeployed to a base in Alabama, it would be easier for them to find other gay people. That social network is the most important thing that OutServe-SLDN has ever created, and it is my proudest accomplishment because I feel it saved lives. Seeing it succeed, I finally felt like I was creating that bit of family that was missing from the military for me and others like me. OutServe-SLDN has grown tremendously since I left the service in January 2017. And even though DADT has been repealed, it’s still not safe to be gay in the military. Though I never faced direct and explicit homophobia while on base, after the 2016 presidential election someone said to my face, for the first time, “Maybe this time fags won’t be allowed to serve.” And now, with the threat of a transgender ban on the table, we need advocates more than ever. It’s like what Harvey Milk said, which is at the end of the battle, you have to take a risk. You have to be visible. And the moment LGBTQ people in the military are not visible anymore is the moment that other young gay kids don’t think that they can serve. So yes, it is going to be risky. And it is going to be hurtful, but we need gay service members to stay the course and stay visible — as much as possible.
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As told to staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for style and clarity. Read more stories of service here. Homepage photo by Andrew Renneisen/Getty Images.
Since the Iraq and Afghanistan invasions in 2003, more than 500,000 service members have entered into post-secondary education. While the military offers financial support to veterans transitioning from combat to classroom, it doesn’t address one recurring issue that student vets face: Self-esteem while in the classroom.
“I did feel a bit nervous competing with people not my age,” says Samantha Demezieux, a 28-year-old former Marine who attends Columbia University in New York City for Middle Eastern studies.
A 2016 study found that nearly half of veterans felt unprepared for civilian life — especially those who were in combat and suffer from medical issues — and even less prepared to deal with the anxieties of being on a college campus.
“When you enter the military, it’s so easy to go from a civilian and turn into a soldier, but not the other way around,” says Michael P. Abrams, executive director for the Center for Veteran Transition and Integration at Columbia University. “We need to be better at engaging veterans and letting them know that they have opportunities. It’s definitely an area for improvement.”
There’s a measurable benefit in having vets on campuses, says Abrams. He says it’s the mixture of street smarts and book smarts that make for better diversity in classrooms.
“Diversity is something everyone’s talking about, that should also include experience and age and what you’ve done with this life,” he says. “When you’re discussing Middle Eastern politics in an academic setting, it helps to have a vet who has been in Iraq in 2012 with the elections. It brings such tangible learning experiences to a classroom you wouldn’t otherwise get.”
Demezieux says her — and other student vets’ — perspectives have been widely welcomed, which has remedied some of her initial anxieties.
“I’ve sat in a couple classes where the professor or teacher’s assistant was privy to me being a vet, and they ask for context,” she says.
In addition to political perspectives, vets enter the classroom with a variety of soft skills taught in the military that education programs — not just universities — have been able to capitalize on, such as on-the-fly learning and leadership qualities.
At NPower, a nonprofit that specializes in training veterans for tech jobs, the organization capitalizes on those soft skills to help place their students in jobs.
Graduates of its 26-week coding bootcamps have seen tremendous success, with some veterans securing jobs that allow them to support themselves and their families — even without advanced coding skills that stem from a more formal education.
“What we’re seeing is that companies are hiring from us because they are beginning to recognize that veterans have such tremendous life skills they can bring to the table,” says Brittany Worden, program manager for NPower’s veterans courses. “What they’re saying is, ‘Hey, we want personality and willingness to learn over skills.’”
Worden says that Citi, one of the primary businesses that recruits from NPower, has been most receptive in hiring vets, with more than 100 interns and close to 50 full-time staff. “They’ve just taken our students and built on what they learn here within their position.”
One of those students, Nick Carillo, was an NPower intern and now is the program manager for Citi’s Architecture and Technology Engineering Analyst program.
“In the first few months after separating, I applied to at least 80 positions. I felt it was hard to understand corporate structure and life, so it was hard to answer interview questions at first,” he says, but adds that the soft skills he learned in service have helped him in his current career. “Being drilled to aggressively attack goals and to never give up has just been invaluable to me. I feel that’s why people look to hire veterans; they want people that not only have talent but ambition to put that talent to use.”
One of the biggest challenges at NPower is getting veterans up to speed on job skills, including how to manage the process of looking for a job.
“What I’ve learned is that a lot of [veterans] haven’t had to do an interview. It’s just not something you need to do in the military. They don’t know how to ask questions, they don’t know how to answer tough questions, and in return they don’t have lots of confidence,” Worden says.
That lack of confidence is universal, according to Abrams, especially since asking for help is somewhat taboo in the military.
“It’s tough to ask for help in the military. You’re the person that is supposed to help others. That is the culture and the attitude, especially in the Marine Corps,” he says. “It’s very difficult to go to someone and say I need help because it shows vulnerability, when in reality it means you’re very strong.”
Though admittedly hard, according to Demezieux, getting over the fear of needing help can result in being a better student. This article is paid for and produced in collaboration with Citi. Through Citi Salutes, Citi collaborates with veteran service organizations and leading veteran champions to support and empower veterans, service members and their families. This is the first installment in a series focusing on solutions for veterans and military families in the areas of housing, financial resilience, military transition and employment.
When I joined the Army, I thought I was 9 feet tall and bulletproof. I was Rambo. All it took was breathing in some toxic dust to change that. My time in the service was cut far too short by a medical injury. (I was planning to retire in the military.) This caused me to go into a downward spiral of self-hate that resulted in me becoming a full-time alcoholic. During the worst of it, I’d end up drunk and sleeping on my mother’s doorstep. But after getting help and recognizing that there is life after injury, I vowed to spend my time helping other vets going through addiction. In 2001, I was stationed at a port in Serbia with the Kosovo Force. We trekked across dirt roads with the turret doors of our tanks open, breathing in sand and dust that was laced with chemical warfare from when Yugoslavia faced off against the Soviets. We never wore gas masks. Days later, my organs were shutting down. I had an enlarged heart. I quit breathing for long enough that it caused a brain injury. I was being read my last rites by the station’s chaplain and a plot was being picked out back home in West Virginia. Miraculously, though, I survived. When I got back to the U.S., I was 100 pounds lighter. I looked like I had a gunshot wound in the chest or had been bit by a shark with all the staples covering my body. Greathouse nearly lost his life after being exposed to toxic dust in a war zone. The doctors gave me just a few years to live. I fought to see my children grow up, even though I recognized I probably would never play ball with my son or walk my daughter down the aisle. But the comfort of family only went so far. After a year and a half of not being able to walk, being in rehabilitation and feeling like I was losing my mind or that my life was over, I fell into a deep depression. I started self-medicating, and tequila was the easiest substance to get a hold of. I didn’t become a drunk overnight, but it didn’t take a long time, either, because the alcohol became the only thing that helped me function. After about a decade of watching the disappointment in my children and parents’ eyes, I decided to get help at the Veterans Administration hospital in Huntington, W.V. Through recreational therapy, I was truly able to turn my life around. It put me among guys just like myself — we were all injured in some way and a bit to ourselves. After I went whitewater rafting for the first time and experienced that thrill, I felt brand new. I began to recognize that I didn’t need to be depressed about my situation. Sure, I may be disabled, but I’ve gotten awards for snowboarding. After struggling with depression and addiction, Greathouse found healing through recreational therapy. Today, I spend my time volunteering with the VA helping veterans get through their struggles. I have my own home now. My kids and my mom have seen me crawling through a house; now they see me assisting others. I lost more than a decade of my life to alcohol. Through recovery, I’ve learned that life’s too precious and losing one day is too much. I joined the military out of a sense of service. And though I can’t continue to serve my country in that capacity anymore, I’ve dedicated my life to other veterans. I guide them through the process, counsel them or whatever is needed. I want to be there and help them. As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity and style. Read more stories of service here.
Gordon Soderberg spent six years as a member of the U.S. Navy, but he found that his skills would be better served stateside tackling a different issue: natural disasters.
“Military teaches basic skills of being able to mobilize, to get a lot of work with a number of people” says Soderberg. “But for potential disasters that come, [a veteran is] a perfect responder to do that.”
From his work with groups like Team Rubicon and Detroit Blight Busters, Soderberg developed the idea of Veterans Village. Watch the video above to see how it’s helping veterans extend their service.
“Veterans bring an attitude of get the work done. They have leadership skills,” he says. “By having Blight Busters and the blight of Detroit as bootcamp for veterans, we get to help clean up Detroit while training.”
National news can be jarring. We thrust from one exhausting story to the next. Just this week, we’re trying to make sense of new indictments and what they mean for our country and democracy. These are crucial conversations, and we need to follow the facts wherever they lead. But we also need to keep our eye on immediate problems facing our communities — and come up with real solutions. One obvious answer? National service. We should take to heart the wisdom of Fred Rogers’s mother and “look for the helpers.” They are all around us, and it’s easy to join them. Each year, more than 80,000 Americans engage in an intensive service year through AmeriCorps. These Americans are reframing challenges as opportunities and taking action to make a difference in their communities. I’ve seen this in my home state of Colorado where more than 2,500 people spend a year serving our local communities through national service programs like AmeriCorps. Our State Service Commission, Serve Colorado, awards AmeriCorps program grants to organizations statewide that use “people power” to address our most critical community needs. From battling the opioid epidemic, to boosting educational outcomes for our students, to fighting hunger and housing instability — national service programs are working. This fall, 12 AmeriCorps members will serve with the Colorado AmeriCorps Community Opioid Response Program to reduce the impact of opioid abuse. Meanwhile in Denver, where AmeriCorps members are serving in classrooms with City Year, three out of four schools served by the program have moved up in the city’s school ratings. In the San Luis Valley, members serving with La Puente Home are providing wrap-around services to people experiencing homelessness and helping their food bank network. National service is a powerful force in times of crisis. Right now, more than 2,200 AmeriCorps members are supporting and rebuilding communities impacted by the recent hurricanes. Here in Colorado, we know all too well what an important role national service plays in disaster recovery. In 2012, during the Waldo Canyon Fire that devastated our state, more than 175 AmeriCorps members responded working with fire crews on the front lines, operating evacuation shelters, and managing volunteers. I personally saw the impact that these members had and will forever be grateful for their service. But the time to invest in national service is not only when we need it most, but in times of shaping what our future could be. National service programs not only address critical challenges, but are incredibly cost-effective — saving money for both local communities and taxpayers. Through a unique public-private partnership, federal investment in national service is matched by private sources to magnify impact and increase return on taxpayer money. For every federal dollar invested in AmeriCorps, more than two dollars is matched by donations and in-kind support from private sources. National service sees a nearly four to one return on investment to society from things like higher earnings to increased output. That’s incredible for any organization or business. That’s why we are looking to double our investment in national service in Colorado. Plain and simple, AmeriCorps works — but it requires our investment. National servicedoesn’t just strengthen our communities; it reminds us that we are changemakers. In a time when too many try to divide us — left versus right, urban versus rural — national service is exactly what we should be investing in. It’s how we can cut through the noise to make real change. We all have a role in shaping our future. So let’s pick up a shovel, a book or a clipboard and get to work.
John Hickenlooper is the 42nd governor of Colorado and the former mayor of Denver.
After losing a close family member to suicide, Sam Pressler turned to sketch comedy as a means to cope, and later, to grow from the trauma and its consequences.
While in college several years later, he learned that the suicide rate among veterans at the time was 22 deaths per day.
“My mind immediately jumped to standup comedy as a solution,” he says, softly chuckling as if to acknowledge his slightly unconventional way of thinking.
Pressler created the first comedy class for veterans while still a college student. Today, as the founder of the Armed Services Arts Partnership (ASAP), his organization holds comedy stand-up bootcamps and improv workshops at no cost for veterans, service members and military families. Comedy is a salve… For the veterans and military families, but it’s also deeply impactful for the audience. Too often, the veteran and military experience is focused on tragedy and ignores all of the ridiculous things that happen while you’re serving. Comedy plays to the other side of that, but it also gives a space to process experiences and flip them on their heads. Things that used to upset soldiers now become the basis for their material. It turns anger into something positive. Performing… Is a very deliberate movement to bring civilian and military worlds closer together. Fewer than 20 percent of ASAP participants have engaged in the arts in the previous year. Anecdotally speaking, that’s a result of the civilian-military gap creating apprehension in engaging in the broader civilian world. Performing allows civilians to connect with veterans in a military space. It also shows veterans and military families that their community cares about them and that they belong. When you laugh… You form a connection with the people around you. Comedy is a communal art form. Laughter requires community. You lean into one another; you feed off of one another. You also form a connection with the person performing. When veterans are on stage, it gives them the feeling that they have an engaging, accessible voice in their community. Once you’re an artist… You’re often drawn to use a unique voice to speak on behalf of others. One of our comics who has a service dog advocates on Capitol Hill for service dog organizations and has become an advocacy leader in other parts of his life. Another speaks at conferences about what life is like after three traumatic brain injuries. To help veterans reintegrating… Communities need to boost their understanding and connection to returning service members. A very important part of the reintegration process is not feeling isolated. Veterans need to feel like they belong and that they’re respected. People should listen to their experiences and not just thank them for their service. We need to understand how their service impacted them. Reporting by Chris Peak MORE:This Is Why Hollywood’s Depiction of Veterans Must Change
In this episode of NationSwell’s 8-part mini documentary series on service years, retired Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal shares his personal experience with service — both in and out of uniform.
“Over the past few decades, we’ve come to equate service with military service,” says McChrystal. “In reality, service is much broader: education, healthcare, conservation. I’d like to see us expand that term ‘service members’ or ‘people in service’ as people doing the complete spectrum.”
McChrystal is the chairperson of Service Year Alliance, which is partnering with NationSwell to make a national service year — a paid opportunity to develop real-world skills while solving some of the most pressing challenges facing local communities — a common opportunity for all young Americans.
Service year corps members, including Peace Corps, AmeriCorps, and YouthBuild participants, earn modest stipends that are funded by public and private dollars. Occasionally, some members also receive money to pay for school or student loans.
As these programs face potential elimination under the current White House budget proposal, they continue to garner bipartisan support from voters and members of Congress. Local and national leaders, social entrepreneurs and members of the nonprofit and business communities are calling for service years to become a rite of passage for young Americans.
“Federal funding for national service is not where most of the funding comes from, but it’s essential. It is something that precipitates all of the programs moving forward, and so it’s a key part,” says McChrystal. “If the federal government won’t invest in young people — the most critical part of our nation — there’s no point in rebuilding our roads and bridges in America.”
At a time when our communities are deeply divided, studies show that service year alums are more civically engaged. They vote. They volunteer. And they purposely seek out friendships with people they didn’t know growing up.
“In communities across the nation and around the world, tens of thousands of service year corps members are already working to address local needs — making a huge impact on important issues such as education, inequality, opportunity youth, the environment and health,” says Shirley Sagawa, CEO of Service Year Alliance. “Imagine the impact if we unleash the energy and idealism of the next generation of young Americans through a service year.”
NationSwell asks you to join our partnership with Service Year Alliance. Watch the video above. Contact your elected officials and ask them to support a service year. Do one yourself. Together, we can lead a national movement to give young Americans the opportunity to help bridge the divides in our country.
The Peace Corps sends young Americans to 141 countries, but its number of volunteers is less than half the record high it reached back in 1966. The state of Washington, however, continues to churn out an impressive number of civic-minded youth interested in the program.
For several years running, the Evergreen State’s colleges have claimed the highest number of Peace Corps volunteers, consistently sweeping top spots in categories for large, medium and small colleges alike. The University of Washington, with second-place showing of 73 students in 2016, has taken first or second place for all but one year since 2005. For medium-sized colleges, Western Washington University, with 48 volunteers, nabbed second. And among small campuses, University of Puget Sound tied for second, with 13 new recruits.
Recent changes to the application process, like letting a person choose the country where they wish to live, boosted the number of applicants. Still, the nation should look to Washington for some ideas on how to foster a global commitment among the next generation.
At the University of Washington, a master’s student who completed a Peace Corps mission abroad is a constant presence in the school’s career center. “Over the course of four years of undergrad, students are going to see and hear from the Peace Corps a lot,” says Patrick Gordon, who served in Bulgaria. “It’s become a part of the overall environment of the campus.”
Despite a decade-long strong performance, U of W doesn’t hold top honors for contributing the most Peace Corps volunteers. That designation goes to the University of California-Berkeley, which has sent 3,640 alumni, compared to Washington’s 2,981.
In 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt launched the environmentalist Civilian Conservation Corps, one of America’s first experiments in public service (aside from the traditional routes of joining the military or running for office). Decades later, John F. Kennedy’s global Peace Corps and Lyndon B. Johnson’s domestic anti-poverty program, VISTA, followed. And later, Bill Clinton formed AmeriCorps to instill service as a core ideal. NationSwell Council member MacKenzie Moritz, chief of staff and head of partnerships at Service Year Alliance, believes that civic engagement is about to reach its apex, as more young people sign up for a year of service. NationSwell spoke to him by phone in Washington, D.C., about how 12 months of service could heal the country’s divides. What is a service year? Who can participate, and what do they do? A service year is an opportunity to do a year or two of full-time, paid service with a nonprofit, government or university, working to address an unmet societal need. Some of the best-known examples out there are things like the Peace Corps, AmeriCorps programs like Teach for America and City Year, and the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. Our focus is really on this idea of how to provide opportunities for people to act on the responsibilities of their citizenship. [With Service Year Alliance,] we primarily focus on recruiting 18-to-28-year-olds — whether after high school, during college or after — to have this opportunity really early in life, because we think it will unlock a next level of civic engagement for the rest of their lives. Of course, they’re certainly not limited to those ages; plenty of people decide to do a service year later in life. Why is a service year so important now? After two years in Philadelphia, where I taught ninth-grade world history, I ended up leading Teach for America’s national recruitment strategy and technology team. At that time, we were seeing 60,000 applicants every year for 6,000 positions. There was just a tremendous interest from young people to give back, to leave their mark on society. The vast majority of people that were raising their hand to volunteer were ultimately told they weren’t a good fit. They were being rejected, only to go home and read a newspaper article about how Millennials care only about themselves. With our politics, people aren’t feeling as connected to larger systems as they had historically, leading to declining rates of social trust. We need something new that restores the fabric of our country. What would you say to the person who thinks service years are well and good for others, but not for them? The Franklin Project got started at Aspen Ideas Festival a couple years back, when Gen. McChrystal was asked whether he believed in the draft. He said, “I think you’re asking the wrong question. The right question is, ‘Should every young American serve?’ I think the answer to that is yes. But does the military need everyone? I think the answer is no. We need to create a lot more pathways for young people to serve.”
He went on to say that citizenship is a membership. We spend a lot of time talking about its rights, and we spend very little time talking about its responsibilities. About only 1 percent of Americans serve in the military, and frequently those are folks who come from families that have a long history of serving in the military. It’s really dangerous for us, as a country, to get into the mindset of thinking that service is someone else’s job, that it’s not a shared responsibility across all of us. Service years involve exploring your identity as a citizen. During his time as a Teach For America Corps member, Moritz (left) brought students to a 2008 presidential debate in Philadelphia. The teens are pictured here with former Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell (right) Is there a book you’d recommend for someone who wants to understand your approach to public service? “Heart of the Nation: Volunteering and America’s Civic Spirit,” by John Bridgeland, chair of the domestic policy council in the Bush administration during 9/11, does a really good job of providing a history of service in America and outlining a future of where we could go. What do you wish someone had told you when you first took this role? If I had been holding myself to the expectations I had for myself as a college graduate at 21 years old, I would not be doing any of what I’m doing today. There’s so much out there that I didn’t know existed back then. There are a lot of different levers that exist out there for changing our society. It’s very easy to fall into focusing only on the ones you know. With how fast the world is changing, there’s a lot more that are being created all the time. I hope that, 10 years from now, I’m doing something that doesn’t exist today. What are you most proud of having accomplished? When I was a teacher back in Philadelphia, I had the opportunity to meet a lot of amazing young people. My male students, you’d ask them what they want to do, and they’d say [play in] the NBA or the NFL. In a moment of frustration, I ended up taking a trashcan and putting it on a stool. I said, “Alright, everyone get out a piece of paper. Crumple it up. On the count of three, shoot.” Ninety-five percent of them didn’t go in. “Okay,” I said, “We need a backup plan here.”
The funny thing is that one of the students ended up playing in the NBA, which makes me look foolish, but I was right for the rest of them. The students I’m most proud of are two of the students I taught as ninth graders, who, after college, did Teach for America back in Philadelphia and now, after completing that, are staying in the classroom. It’s been such a privilege to mentor them over the years, stay in touch with them and see the cycle go all the way around. There’s just so much talent and potential in all of America’s classrooms. I got to play a small role in helping people to realize that, and I’m excited to continue to help with that through all the work that I do. To learn more about the NationSwell Council, click here. Note: Since the publication of this article, Service Year Alliance has become a NationSwell advertiser.
