How Helen learned true courage at MAPS

Originally written by Helen, on September 14, 2013

When I showed up for the interview to join MAPS 4 College Prep Mentoring Program (CPMP), I didn’t realize what I was getting into. It’s been three years since I’ve met Sarai and the community of people she’s gathered.  One of my earliest as well as hope-filled memories I have of her was during the Mountain Top Boot Camp 2.0 during the summer of 2010. 

I asked Sarai something along the lines of, “Will I get into college?” She replied, “Yes, of course!” 

After I asked her, I was perplexed because I wasn’t sure what made me seek reassurance from Sarai that I would gain admission from a college because I knew I would. There would be no doubt about it. I was a straight-A student and participated in some extracurricular activities. 

I suppose part of it was that I felt the road to college was obscured and blurry, as if it was something that was imminent but located in another dimension that I did not know of. No one had ever sat down with me and talked about college and about how high school is relevant to college in a fully detailed and soothing manner. 

And so, when I asked Sarai that question and she answered with a point blank, knowing that I would have the opportunity to work with her throughout my high school career, I felt much calmer and better about my future.  

I was always a nervous and anxious wreck because I wanted so badly to succeed and set up a strong foundation for my ambitions. Throughout high school, I was always collected checks off lists in order to ensure that my college application would look impressive. This led me to think that if I wasn’t being constantly challenged, if I wasn’t constantly busy and doing something, then I was wasting time and potential. Even when I procrastinated, I would beat myself over the fact that I was procrastinating. This anxiety put a serious strain on my emotional health as I easily succumb to moments of depression and feelings of failure. Each and every time and every time I made a mistake or things didn’t go according to plan, I would crack under the pressure and experience a break down. It was extremely unhealthy, thinking back. 

I didn’t know how to relax. I found it incredible that my friends around me didn’t feel the same way. 

Joining CPMP, I met other girls who were able to emphasize with my feelings of anxiety and nervousness. I remember once, during cohort 3, when Sarai was unable to show up to our meetings and we were fully self-governing, we decided that we wouldn’t do ACT lessons that evening and instead, we’d just talk about ourselves. In a completely unplanned and organic fashion, I think we opened up about stresses and worries that went unsaid because they didn’t have a place to be expressed. I don’t think the girls as a group was all completely close with one another; I had stronger bonds with some than others. But at the same time, we understood each other and stood in mutual support of one another. I forgot what we talked about—it mostly had to do with school and senior year. It was an anxious time for all of us: here was the rest of our future, not so far away. Being able to talk about it didn’t abolish the unknown that haunted us but it did heal some of the wounds that we might have suffered from long stretches of nervousness. I personally cried. 

This is the community that MAPS tries to establish for students. A place of mutual support, love, and understanding. A place where we can turn to even no matter the circumstances. 

Originally, I thought of it as another check off my list—like another SAT test prep that drills and drills you for a higher number until you’re completely drained out. I thought it was a place that just impounds you with words and lessons so that you’ll produce a high number. I wanted that because I thought that was what I needed and I was initially disappointed that it wasn’t what I expected. Rather than strict and tightly organized, CPMP was a fluid, student controlled setting that paid close attention to our voices and needs. I found it strange because we were the students here, they were the teachers and adults. Shouldn’t they tell us what to do in order to succeed? I wanted Sarai to hand me a detailed strategic list of things I’d have to do in order to achieve a certain ACT score or get into a certain college. I thought we’d sit down and plan my “route” to my destination step by step. What was up with the freedom and trying to define leadership? I didn’t understand it. But I did enjoy it. 

I never thought of enjoying what I do. Or rather, I never thought that it would be possible to be involved in something that helped me reach my goals while simultaneously be enjoyable. To me, the difficult and tough route lead to greater rewards. I wanted someone to tell me the most challenging route and I’d do it.  

So, I wasn’t sure what to make of MAPS and its quirky way of running things. It was a program that treated me unlike anything or anyone else had. 

In hindsight, what MAPS did was give us power. Sarai was slowly transitioning us to a position of power by giving us a voice and making us have an opinion over something that we should have control over—our own development and education. She didn’t just give us a choice but she let us make choices. The sudden release of power from an authority figure left us literally speechless as we didn’t know what to make of this newfound ability to actually decide. We’d sit there awkwardly shy and silent when she asked us what we wanted to eat sometimes for an abnormally long span of time. We simply didn’t want the power. We wanted others to make the choices for us or to give us a list of options and then we’d choose from that. That was the feeling I got from the initial stages of cohort 1. I think the mindset was, “What do I know? You’re the adult and teacher, you should know.” 

In school, the dynamic usually followed that a teacher would teach and a student would consume the information. There wasn’t much room for conflict or debate. Even when a teacher asked a student a question, there was typically an answer that s/he was looking for. Even in classes such as English where students are asked what they think of a story or book, there are very few who raise their hands. This could either be because they are disinterested in the story or they don’t know have an opinion or they don’t know the right answer. In any case, I think students are used to only giving the right answer or not giving an answer at all, waiting for others to speak up in their stead. 

And so, we think, “What do I know? I’m not the teacher, I’m the student.” But this mindset is egregious when we consider that ultimately, an education is aimed towards teaching students. Doesn’t it make sense for students to be able to gauge what makes them learn, what is effective for them, and take an active part in formulating and improving the quality of something that definitively affects not only their career prospects but how they think? 

Such was Sarai’s logic when she made CPMP. Students are their own best teachers. 

It took some time for Cohort 1 to get adjusted at first. We had to get to know each other and become situated with the environment. Jawad, our teacher, helped us speak up. Rather than spending the entire 6 or 8 hours every Saturday learning ACT lessons, we went on long tangents about topics not usually talked about in a high school setting. Immigration came up a lot as it was a personal subject for a majority who attended the lesson. I loved hearing Jawad tell us somewhat politically polarized topics that were kept silent by a school teaching a population of students who understood the struggle of immigrates from first or second hand perspectives. We’d discuss and laugh and joke and the desire to speak our thoughts, to learn about this very integral and intimate aspect of our lives was refreshing, thought-provoking, and empowering. 

MAPS is fluid. At times it often seems unorganized and as if it is falling apart at the seams because once the students gain control of the full program structure and were teaching each other, we’d cancel meetings, show up late, and sometimes go off on tangents of conversation that wasn’t conducive to our learning of the very important ACT lessons and the improvement of a number score that would pretty much determine our future. 

And sometimes, we’d function like a well-oiled machine as student instructors are prepared to teach their lesson and integrate games and student answered questions into their lessons. Students paid attention and respected whoever was lecturing and played along with the games. At the same time, new cohorts also got situated with the self-ran, empowering environment and understood that they had an active part of their role within the program. I think from what I can tell, most of our scores improved and all of my CPMP peers graduated and are now attending a higher-education institution.  Though informal and sometimes divergent from our goal, we’re still getting there. 

Teaching always seemed like a struggle because it seemed like a task that was completely out of our hands. There wasn’t a lot of structure around it because we could structure it accordingly but then in the end, we were able to build a system that worked well with the fluidity of each different situation we found ourselves in. Each cohort had a different aspect to it and it took some adapting and scheduling. However, in the end, we got students to voluntarily participate in this model of self-regulating, self-sustaining teaching, practicing becoming active participates in their own education and life-pursuits. 

To me, the experiences outside of learning ACT were the most memorable. I remember Vanessa Lam and I would always be the first to show up to MAPS early during cohort 3 and we’d sit and chat about things related to school work and life and our feelings. We had some time to take a break and rest in an environment that was specifically available to us to help us learn and grow. It was ours. As students come in, we’ll take some time to talk to each other before we actually settle down. Usually, we take a break during the two hours we’re teaching. The break is supposed to last 15 minutes but it typically ended up going on for much longer. 

There were a lot of times where I was put off by the disorganized way that we functioned as a group and wanted to quit. I felt exhausted all the time and the MAPS meetings were from 5pm-7pm. All I wanted to do after school ended at 3pm was go home and sleep, do my homework, and study enough to have room to take a break. There was a period of time where I skipped meetings constantly because I joined badminton and felt like I no longer had anything to gain from MAPS anymore. A similar effect happens to other girls. They end up getting piled up with work and other responsibilities that, since MAPS isn’t mandatory and skipped meetings is completely up to the individual, a lot of us decide to skip. I think this is also part of the reason why we always end up having members drop out at the beginning. 

When we recruit, we seem to always end up with a handful of students who stay behind. Others leave and I’m not entirely sure why. One girl said she would be able to be just as effective teaching herself and others slowly stop coming all together without telling anyone why. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that MAPS doesn’t actively force or mandate anyone to come or stay. The attempt to empower students come with trade-offs but the students who stay tend to come back. Even today, despite graduating high school, MAPS holds potlucks during winter and summer break and alumnae from cohort 1, 2, and 3 usually come back to share their experiences and catch up with each other.

To me, the problem isn’t as simple as bad programming because the programming comes from us. I think part of the reason why students do to feel obligated to come to MAPS is because the idea of self-motivation and self-direction is not an easy one to swallow. When there is an external force that motivates me to do something, I’m more likely to do it. If I know that I am held responsible by my parents, teachers, or a friend, I’m more inclined to follow through whereas responsibility towards myself doesn’t seem as salient—especially when my body doesn’t agree with what I want to do. 

Or perhaps it’s a far-fetched concept that student can fully self-regulate themselves. But, despite the retention rate, there are students who stick it out. I, somehow managed the willpower to not quit despite every fiber of my being telling me that there’s no point in going anymore at times. Even if I knew it was beneficial for me to stick it out with MAPS, I just wanted to quit because it was hard. The expectations that Sarai has of our independence and endurance went over my head and all I wanted was for her to not care whether I quit or not. 

But I knew she did. I guess in that way, Sarai was an external force that kept us going. Our responsibility to live up to our full potential and not take her time and energy into helping us accomplish whatever it is that we want in life drives us forward on this journey of sticking it out. 

Looking back, I can’t seem to understand why it was so difficult for me to go in the first place. Part of it was that MAPS office was difficult or, at the very least, inconvenient to get to. I had two hours after school and if I went home, I didn’t want to leave. Yet, if I went there early, I didn’t have much to do. Sometimes, I’d feel as if I wasn’t learning anything during the lectures that I didn’t already know. Other times, I simply just didn’t want to go or wanted to do something else. 

Of course, there were periods of time when I wouldn’t show up very often or only sparsely. Towards the end of senior year, I stopped attending the meetings regularly and for some reason, I started attending them again, well into the summer actually. Other seniors didn’t show up for cohort 5 I believe and for some reason, I felt responsible for keeping MAPS alive and making sure that other students had the same opportunities I received. At the time, I was so extremely grateful and giddy because I was accepted into my top choice school, the University of Chicago, that I felt everyone needed MAPS and everyone needed to understand why MAPS would benefit them in the long run in a practical academic sense and a personal emotional health sense. 

In regards to practicality, MAPS provide students with a myriad of resources that inform as well as guide them through the college process as well as prep us with work related skills. One of the first lessons I learned was that if you are five minutes early, you are on time and if you are on time, you are late. Other things we learned had to do with proper emailing, finding information on things ourselves that we can find information on before asking someone else, and how to speak or introduce ourselves to people. 

I supposed I was lucky to have a job with MAPS through Goodwill. The youth job program they had allowed me to be her assistant and she’d have me call people and inform them of events or file paperwork. Another student also worked with MAPS through the same program. Unfortunately, we weren’t all formally trained in a work environment but I think the nudges Sarai gives us leads us in the right direction in regards on how to appropriately conduct ourselves in professional environments. I think the smallest things end up being the most important in the end because small things add up. Processes such as emailing or showing up to work is something that may or is done every single day and being a quality employee can start with fine details such as how we speak and how we approach others. 

The college boot camp also helped us prepare for prospective careers. There were workshops on networking, interview skills, and resumes. Without these resources, I would not have known the importance of these basic and integral steps to being a competitive employee for the future. As for being a competitive student, we were given many opportunities to partake in leadership roles. The one that comes immediately to mind is the annual city-wide youth summit. CPMP worked alongside city representatives, voicing our opinions, approvals, and objections of program planning to host an event that might greatly benefit other teens. I suggested a self-esteem workshop and behold, we had a speaker come in and talk about insecurities and how to deal with them. On the day of, CPMP was essentially in charge of directing volunteers, setting up, and ensuring everything would go according to plan. Ed Hernandez, senator of California’s congress, even gave MAPS an award—it was a great moment for all of the students involved in making it happen. I don’t think we’d ever think we’d be able to do something as cool as take part in hosting a city-wide event in our community. 

MAPS teaches us, if we need to learn, what we should know about college: researching for schools that fit our needs, reaching out to college counselors, how to write college essays, how to improve our scores on the ACT, opportunities for scholarships, and how to fill our financial aid. Another thing that MAPS does is encourage students to grow by considering out-of-state colleges. California has a great university system that allow its residents many options if they wish to go to an in-state and quality college but usually, these turn out to be the only options. Most of my own friends who graduated with me now attend a University of California and while there is nothing wrong with this, it does not hurt to see this as an opportunity to go explore and live with people who may have grew up in a contrasting environment. As well, in private schools looking for diversity and out-of-state students, one may even have an advantage in the financial aid department because of this. One of the schools I was accepted into that was out-of-state offered me the opportunity to study abroad in London during my first year in college, offered to fly me out for free to see the school, and gave me almost 5-grand-away-from a full ride. I didn’t even consider going out-of-state until I was encouraged to think about it and then when I did, it made so much more sense to me to do so. 

College is a special opportunity—especially for students who may come from disadvantaged backgrounds who do not have the means to explore and see the world otherwise. It’s amazing how many opportunities are open and available to those who reach out of their bubble. I’ve now experienced what seasons are like, how beautiful autumn and spring can be, and how amazingly cold and terrible snow is after a while after living in the notorious Chicago for a year. 

And perhaps one of the most important life lessons I’ve learned in MAPS and from Sarai is that passion does not inhibit practical. That following your dreams is not a choice between money and happiness but rather, if you’re smart and strategic about what you want, you can build up the skill sets and experiences and find your niche in something that fills you with life. Money follows you if you understand the system and work hard. Don’t think about money; think about how to improve yourself and your skills in the field that you love. 

 These tips are wise but also unconventional when one thinks about the fear and apprehension surrounding college and job employment prospects. They’re also life-changing because it’s empowering to think that you do not have to work around the system but rather, you can navigate it and work it in your favor. 

 Of course, these resources are only useful if students actually use them. A problem I observed was that students didn’t even realize how necessary and how expensive the services offered to them were. It’s easy to take something for granted when you don’t realize that it’s not something that should be taken for granted. Perhaps it’s the way Sarai made everything so accessible and understandable that it takes hindsight to realize their significance. And yet, what a world of a difference it would make if you take fully advantage of them. 

I’m not sure I’d be attending the University of Chicago if I didn’t. I think I drafted my personal statement essay more than 5 times and came into the office every Tuesday to ask Sarai to look over it. I also had the opportunity to personally meet my regional admissions officer and have dinner with the director of admissions from UChicago. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that MAPS hosted an information session on UofC (we have many abbreviations), I wouldn’t have even considered the school. It’s almost mystifying when I think about it because we didn’t have lunch with representatives from any other colleges and UChi was everything I dreamed of: Hogwarts-like, a self-deprecating student body, medium sized, liberal arts, “a life of the mind”. I didn’t even know where I wanted to go to college until then and after I found the phrase, “the place where fun comes to die” I think I fell in love. 

But I don’t think I would be so lucky and presented with so many opportunities if it weren’t for the fact that I salvaged every opportunity I received from CPMP. 

In fact, I was able to meet Margo Cohen, a college counselor who reads essays, at the 2011 college boot camp and we developed a good relationship. I still send her an email from time to time updating her on what’s going on and during the application process, she was benevolent enough to skype with me and walk me through my entire essay. She even emailed an original draft to a UChicago admissions reader and gave me her feedback on it. 

There are a plethora of positive experiences I’ve had. What frustrated me about Sierra Vista High School is they were so focused on getting students into college that there was a glass ceiling on how high the ambitious students can achieve. Before, I used to feel ridiculous for saying something like, “I want to go to Stanford” because it felt so incredibly out of my league. When I went on College Confidental, there would be students who seemed to have saved the world trying to get into top colleges. I felt so small that I would have settled if it weren’t for MAPS. 

Writing this testimony, I feel as if I’m trying to sell a product because I keep saying MAPS is great because of this and that, it’s a miracle worker, it helped me fix my blind-vision! But MAPS did change my life in ways that I didn’t even think my life could be changed. It fixed my eyes by giving me the critical skills to closely examine the world and understand that what seems to be set in stone is actually much more fluid than I think. I looked at myself differently and I looked at other people differently as Sarai introduced me to new vocabulary about social stratification and listened to what I thought about the world. She was always asking me questions and they were always hard questions. 

I think the life-changing essence of MAPS isn’t attributed to any special quality found in prophets though. Sarai simply believes and follows through with basic concepts that have been around for a while—giving context to them. 

Hope, strength, integrity, kindness, and endurance. 

Follow your dreams. 

Forgive others. 

Be tolerant and accepting. 

Most importantly, courage. 

Courage seems to be a trait lost to the heroes of ancient Greece. Talked seriously about in the context of Achilles and Odysseus who faced magical monsters and demi-gods. The grandeur of ancient warriors is not found in everyday life. And so, we don’t think of courage in the context of ourselves—that is, real courage. People describe others as courageous and strong but it’s only in abnormal situations where it is required. In everyday life, we are not courageous people. This quality is special. It’s theatrical and grand. Usually, courage is attributed to someone due to singular acts. 

But courage should be a quality that is constantly being applied because living is scary. There are a lot of unknowns and there are a lot of cowardly options, especially when it comes to dealing with other human beings. The amount of cynicism, mistrust, and backstabbing that goes on the world almost entails a need to be courageous for the kind soul. It’s an active, conscious thing to act contrary to anger and revenge, to be self-defensive and reject others and to be possibly deemed a fool. 

The courage to believe in students, believe in people, believe in our ability, and to devote immense time and energy to our future while resisting conventional societal wisdom that tells you money is the key to success and happiness has the grandeur of Homer’s epic heroes. And it has an even grander effect than winning war. 

It changes lives.