Thursday, May 13, 2010

 

Liz Agosto, Part I

When I reflect on my life I often think that I should not be where I am today. I shouldn’t be a thriving, ivy-league graduate that is completing her doctoral degree and working with college students. I had the childhood that could have made me a statistic. Along our lives there are defining moments and people that change our direction and teach us lessons about life. I can identify the exact moment when my life almost took a very different direction but instead people and experiences forever altered my beliefs, my course and me.

I was born in the Bronx, NY. My mother and father were 18 years old and had just graduated from high school. My father joined the military and my mom took jobs where she could. They had little money but they managed. Until age seven, I was the quintessential army brat. We never stayed in one place very long and by that age I had attended schools in Germany, Texas and Colorado. At age seven, my parents got divorced. We, mom, sister and I, moved into the attic of a friend’s house. My mother suddenly found herself a single mother with no savings, no home and only a high school diploma. Over the next few years, my mom accepted welfare as she struggled to make ends meet and achieve her associate’s degree.

Things were difficult in our house but it was all I knew. I didn’t understand poverty, racism or other social issues because I lived in areas that were full of people struggling with the same issues as I. I realized the difference when I was eleven. My mother moved us to the town where I would spend the rest of my adolescent years. I was a smart kid growing up – really smart. When I started sixth grade I didn’t understand what was happening when I was put in English As Second Language classes. I spoke fluent English and was reading at a twelfth grade level. It didn’t take long before the mistake was realized, partially because of my own fight to be heard and partially because of my test scores. This blip seemed so minor to me that I continued on my path. I loved school. There was never any doubt that I was going to go to college; in fact, I was going to go to Harvard. I had no understanding of the details of going to college but I knew it was a big deal and college was something that no one else in my family had accomplished. I believed that if I worked hard enough then I would get to go to college. The financial implications of going to college were incomprehensible; at this point I didn’t know the amount of resources it took to attend a university, let alone a highly selective college.

I was only in the beginning stages of understanding what poverty meant and that I was indeed part of what we would classify as the working-poor. The things that made me different from the rest of the kids in my new school were the things that started to lift the fog from my eyes. I didn’t have a phone in my house to chat with my friends all afternoon and evening, so I would give out the phone number to the payphone located near my house and spend all afternoon talking to my friends on that payphone. Luckily, these were the days when 1) payphones existed and 2) a call was only a dime and allowed unlimited time. I never had spending money when we would go on field trips as a class, so I could never buy the whale stuffed animal at Mystic Aquarium. These examples are minor but the implications were immense for me. I noticed and so did other people in my school. Regardless, I pushed forward.

I began to lose my way the summer between seventh and eighth grade. It is a typical story in some ways. My friends were all older kids. I wanted to be cool. My mom worked all day and I had lots of time to get into trouble. Unfortunately for me, my attempts to be cool brought unwanted male attention and advancements my way. I had developed early and my body was more formed than the other girls my age or older. I had hips and breasts. I was ashamed. I was embarrassed and I began to sink into myself. I didn’t think that I could tell anyone. I “knew” that everything was my fault, so I simply kept silent. I gained weight. I had already been a large girl but the weight became more pronounced and with the weight gain came the teasing and bullying. I was called “earthquake” as I walked down the hallways of school. Students would tremble and quake as though tremors were running under them as I passed. I started to dislike school but I still pushed through. I ended being named Student of the Year when I graduated from 8th grade, but I was dreading high school.

What I didn’t know was that there was a teacher by the name of Mary Leger working at the high school who would transform my life.

High school started the way that middle school ended. I began to believe that any whispers, any laughter, any looks were meant to mock me. I believed that everywhere I turned the other students were making fun of me and some were. There was certainly a group of boys, that did all they could to make me unhappy, but my brain convinced me that nowhere was safe. It was during this year of high school that I met Mary Leger. She was a math teacher and the Student Activities coordinator. She was nice to me and gave me a safe place to eat lunch. She convinced me to join the Student Council. I spent that first year hiding in the student activities office. I painted posters and decorated dances. I did all the behind-the-scenes activity that I could. When I was doing those things I felt powerful and I felt like I had a place. I was comfortable and safe. Mary was not only a teacher but also a volunteer staff member with the Student Leadership Training Program. Every year she sent over 50 students from the high school to this weeklong experiential leadership program. She offered me one of the coveted spots but I couldn’t afford the small tuition fee, even with the scholarship, so I had to turn it down. A few days later, Mary let me know the week that I would be attending – she had paid my tuition. I agreed to attend because it would make her happy.

While, I had found a safe space, I was still deeply unhappy. I didn’t believe that I wanted to be alive anymore and I didn’t think I could tell anyone. I felt like I was stuck behind a mask that I had to wear everyday. I didn’t think I would make it through the summer and then I met Jim Fitzgerald. Jim is the director of SLTP. He and Mary mark the year that changed my life. The week at SLTP taught me that there were different types of people out there. The magic of the place built my spirit, my mind and my heart. 1994 was the summer that saved my life. After that experience, I went back to high school and became involved in my school in a way that was no longer passive. Mary & Jim both believed in student leadership and felt that students should have a voice and be developed. I stayed involved in SLTP for the next three years of high school and remain involved today – 17 years later.

The person I am today can be attributed to three people, my mother, Mary Leger and Jim Fitzgerald. I graduated from high school and attended Dartmouth College. I had a very difficult four years of college but again found solace and strength in student activities. There I found staff that believed in student dreams and that allowed students to be more than they thought they could be. Today, I hope that I am one of those people for the students that I am lucky enough to work with. I work in the student involvement office at Dartmouth College now. It was my home away from home during my college years. Everyday, I am lucky enough to provide to students a safe space, a welcoming space, and a space where they belong. I also continue my volunteer work with SLTP.

In both places, I work with students to do things they didn’t think possible. I challenge them to grow. I provide them a place to dream and space to make mistakes. From my own experience I have learned that student involvement outside of the classroom can give students wings. It can provide comfort, safety and satisfaction to students. Through their out-of-classroom experience students can find a place where they belong and something to be passionate about. I know that I would not be the person that I am today without the mentoring, faith and passion of the educators I have been fortunate to meet. Mary Leger and Jim Fitzgerald taught me the principles that I bring to my work today and that I strongly believe we need to continue to nurture in our schools and our homes.

End Part I, Liz Agosto

Comments:
Liz- You are one wonderfully inspiring woman. Thank you for sharing your story!
-KJ
 
Faith and passion....
Nicely written Liz. Thanks!
 

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