The Next Chapter: Teach for America

Students from Jenny's Whitworth classroom

This fall, a group of inner-city middle-school kids in Philadelphia entered a homeroom named "Whitworth." Many of these students wouldn't consider that their futures could unfold on a college campus, let alone at a small, liberal arts school on the West Coast. But through her work with Teach for America, Jenny Gwin, '06, brings her alma mater to her classroom each day with the hope that her students will be inspired by her own college experience.

One of the first statistics that greets visitors to the TFA website is that only one in 10 students growing up in poverty will graduate from college. Jenny is one of dozens of Whitworth alumni who have joined TFA to help change that statistic. In the process of teaching and working with her students, Jenny has learned more about her own vocation and calling, about the joy found in difficult work, and about how to "plant her flag." In the following stories, Jenny and two other Whitworth alums share their Teach for America experiences.

Jenny Gwin, '06, - Philadelphia
While at Whitworth, I was a religion major who loved taking every course possible from Dr. Edwards, Dr. Neder, Dr. Mohrlang, and Dr. Sittser. When I thought about the calling for my life, I always knew that serving God's Kingdom was my charge, and I wanted to bring my love of people and of theology to that calling. Because I was passionate about theology, attending seminary at Princeton seemed the logical next choice, and so that is what I spent my years at Whitworth preparing for. However, as I grew closer and closer to graduation and thought more deeply about how I could use all that I'd been given at Whitworth to serve others, I realized that there were probably a million people out there more qualified and much better at filling the role of a Dr. Edwards or Dr. Sittser, and that I needed to find a spot where I was not only doing what I loved (studying, serving, loving), but also doing what was most needed.

This is where teaching in a secular setting in general, and with Teach for America in particular, became integral to my life. One of my professors challenged me to "find a place to plant my flag," and as I learned more and more about the achievement gap facing urban students and the dire need for teachers in every major city, I realized that teaching urban middle-school kids could be a place where my heart's deepest calling could meet the world's greatest need. Rather than having to raise support and go abroad to do mission work or find a church with an open youth-ministry position, I could do the work of loving and supporting kids in the place where kids are already present but are in the most need of support: school. Rather than tracking down kids for youth group, I actually spend one to four hours a day with each of my students, and in the midst of teaching them the tools of reading and writing, I get to be a part of their lives and to share mine with them; I do this not only once a week, but every single day. Right now, in Philadelphia, only one out of every two students graduates from high school – and those who do graduate retain the English and math skills of an eighth grader. This is a tragedy.

Teaching my students well and loving them for who they are, despite the ups and downs of middle-school behavior, has been the greatest challenge and the most rewarding endeavor I have ever undertaken. Before, I used to read about and analyze God's Kingdom and the concept seemed so vague; now that I am working with my students and experiencing life together with them in Philadelphia, God's Kingdom has become real to me in an entirely new way. The work that I must do to serve Christ has become tangible for me through the charge to teach and challenge my students each day. My students, the struggles they face, and the challenges they overcome have given me a new and deeper context to the meanings of hope.

I hear stories of students going to sleep to the sounds of gunshots; I see them come into my class sometimes barely able to read or write because of a corrupt school system that has failed them; I see the cycles of injustice that have made minority children give up on themselves. This is where my story begins. I am at school by 6:30 a.m. each day; I teach from 7:30 a.m. until 5 p.m., and I spend the rest of the night planning lessons and preparing for the next day. I have come to realize that, at least for me, this is what it means to deny myself and follow Christ. It has been the hardest things I've ever done. Loving kids unconditionally day in and day out, persisting in the face of all of the obstacles – it takes everything. My life is consumed by middle-school drama, the harsh realities of urban life, teaching students how to read and write, and empowering kids to work through their toughest issues. There is nothing I'd rather do.

While I would never have guessed that this is the way I'd spend my life, my vocation with Teach for America and beyond has come to me because of my experience at Whitworth. Only in serving as an urban teacher have I found a profession that fits Whitworth's mission of mind and heart.

Tami (Keyser) Hagglund, '04, - North Carolina
In my senior year at Whitworth, I had "big" goals: graduate with certification to teach history/social studies, get a job at a Spokane high school, meet a nice guy at church, get married, settle in the Mead area, raise a family, and live a simple life, loving Jesus. I never considered leaving Spokane; that thought seemed completely absurd. But then someone mentioned a program that would help me get a teaching job in a low-income area and simultaneously take care of a chunk of my student loans.

Soon enough, through prayer and much research into Teach for America's mission and goals, I knew that it was the program for me. The grueling application process ended with my acceptance, which was followed by an exhausting seven-week boot camp officially known as Institute. Still, I emerged confident that focus, diligence, endurance and faith were all I needed to succeed.

Brimming with idealism and certain that my Whitworth education had fully prepared my mind and heart for such a mission, I stepped into my classroom in rural North Carolina, equipped with inspirational Tupac Shakur poetry and statistics to show my students their reality vs. their potential. I worked tirelessly, fully expecting to single-handedly redirect every student of mine out of generational poverty. Truth be told, this did happen with some. Students who never knew success in school and presumed they were too stupid to do well found that with the right tools and hard work, they, too, could excel academically.

The victories were great. The defeats... not so much. As one fellow TFAer put it, when one fights to save the environment, the planet doesn't fight back. Recycling bins don't spit materials back out at you. People, however, are not so simple; to my chagrin (and with the result of many sleepless nights), I found that some of my students simply did not want to be saved. Dreams of my classroom being the subject of the next “Dangerous Minds” or “Stand and Deliver” movie fizzled, but I pressed on and refused to give up on my students.

By the end of my two-year commitment, the Lord led me to a new chapter in my life, including marriage and a cross-country move to Seattle. Though I daydreamed many times about the end of 90-hour work weeks and saying farewell to the frustrations that come with teaching in a failing school system, the day I walked down the halls of my high school for the last time, I sobbed so hard that I couldn't see through the tears.

To this day I still wonder about many of my students – about where they ended up, about whether they continued to excel after I left or slipped back into accepting the status quo of failure. I know that many of my students have found success in college and are breaking the cycle of poverty in their families, and I played a key role in their success. (I know this because they have found me on Facebook to tell me so!)

Ultimately, I am grateful to have been called by God to be a part of Teach for America, thankful for the opportunity to serve, and happy to encourage others to pray about whether or not Teach for America might be the right avenue of service for them. My time with TFA was the most trying and rewarding time of my life, and the chance to be a small part of the bigger movement toward educational equity is one I am still passionate about; I do fully believe this is in line with Whitworth's mission, as well as a part of Jesus' call to serve the widows and orphans of this world.

Amanda Cox with two of her students

Amanda Cox, '07 - North Carolina
As a sociology major at Whitworth, I knew that I cared deeply about social-justice issues and wanted to pursue a career aimed toward making change. After hearing about Teach for America during the fall semester of my senior year, I began to research the mission of the organization and to speak to current corps members. I found that joining Teach for America would allow me to experience firsthand many issues that I had studied while at Whitworth and would help me make a personal contribution to the social change that the organization seeks so relentlessly. Going into my third year of teaching, I know that the successes I've had in my classroom and my community in eastern North Carolina are a direct result of the education of mind and heart that I received at Whitworth. My faith and character have been stretched and strengthened during my time in North Carolina, and both have provided a strong foundation for my commitment to the kids in my classroom and my work with Teach for America.

My current assignment is teaching third grade at D.S. Johnson Elementary School, in Rocky Mount, N.C. This town has a unique contrast of rural country living and urban social challenges, such as extreme poverty and a disturbing racial divide. Each year I get to meet new children with unforgettable personalities and fascinating life stories to tell. And with the beginning of each new year, I'm reminded of the great artist Michelangelo and the imperfect statue he stumbled upon. This statue, begun by another sculptor, gave Michelangelo a vision of what lay beneath the surface of the rock; somehow, he was able to see the beauty beneath the surface. Slowly, Michelangelo began chipping away, until he revealed to the world his masterpiece, David. He never confessed to "carving" David; instead, he said that he had chipped away until David "came out." David was there all along. This motivates me daily to see the potential and possibilities of my students, who may have been discarded, overlooked, or labeled by others in their lives. 

Statistics show that students who are not on-level readers by the end of third grade have very little chance of ever catching up. I have the incredible responsibility to keep my mind on this reality. Nearly 80 percent of my students enter my classroom one to three years behind in both reading and math. I give my students a gift at the beginning of each new year: I whisper and tightly clasp my hands together as if I'm holding a special gem, and I tell them that this is the most special gift that they will ever receive, the only gift that no one can ever take away from them, and that it holds more power than even Superman's Kryptonite! The gift that I whisper into each of their ears and secretly pass from clasped hands to clasped hands is the gift of learning and the power of their own minds. Without fail, their faces turn from curious and confused to bright-eyed and open-mouthed, and in the most tangible way I'm able to see their lives empowered. The reality of their futures without education is dim, but their potential is so bright if they're given the opportunity to learn!

I'm still undecided as to what's next after my time in the classroom ends. My eyes have been opened to a great injustice, and I'm not sure that I can leave my work toward a resolution to this injustice just yet. Although I would like to stay in the classroom for a few more years, long term I'm looking at the possibility of enrolling in a graduate program in sociology, working in urban school administration, or working as a full-time staffer for Teach for America.

Teach for America has not just been a "teaching thing" for me. It's brought about a change in the way I view humanity, approach diversity, perceiveeducation, and embrace community. Some days the work before me seems far too difficult, a concrete wall of challenges that don't seem to be moving. My students' progress is a testament to their willpower to succeed and rise above the negative expectations imposed upon them. My kids prove to me that they really are capable of great things in this world, that they can learn, that they want to learn. At times, when my belief in them waivers, they still believe in themselves – and that belief pays off.

The faces and smiles of all my students will be forever written on my heart. Day one of my first year of teaching, I immediately noted a little boy named Ralek; he was just about the cutest kid I'd ever seen, and he was also a pint-sized terror. What he lacked in size, he made up for in outbursts of energy – and anger. In addition to his tremendous behavioral difficulties, he read at just a first-grade level. His odds of passing the end-of-grade state exam were slim to none. On the state pre-test he scored in the bottom third percentile. By the end of year, Ralek was not only a model of positive behavior, but he passed the state test, having raised his score by 27 points – which equates to almost three years of growth! Every day for the past three years I have walked into Room 209 praying for a small miracle, and my kids have shown me that such miracles do happen, and that they are just waiting for the chance to shine.

I couldn't love my kids every day and teach with the energy that I do without Jesus in my life. And just as Whitworth educated both my mind and heart, I work to do the same with the kids in my classroom. They've impressed me with their test scores, but more important, they've made me proud of their growth in character. Just today I asked one of my kids, "What's that special thing called when you get something you don't deserve?" Without hesitation, he replied "Grace.” I'm so thankful that a few more kids in the world now understand this concept – a concept that even the best-educated adults struggle to understand.