The Missing Piece in the Equity Equation: Excellence

You can also read the article in San Jose Mercury News

Equity is a keyword defining the educational philosophy of California’s community colleges. Unlike equality, which aims to give every student the same resources and opportunities, equity attempts to give each student what s/he needs to succeed. It recognizes that underserved and historically marginalized students, often victims of myriad injustices, need additional help to achieve educational and professional goals similar to their more privileged counterparts.

Equity is, of course, a noble idea but the devil lies in the details. No two students with special needs – physical, mental, academic, financial – are alike. Colleges with limited resources are hard-pressed to set each such student up for success. Tutoring, counseling, ease of access to facilities and resources help but some still fail because the equitable and inclusive services do not reach them until it’s too late.

My experience as a faculty member at a community college has convinced me that what also holds back differently-abled students from reaching their full potential is a missing piece in the equity equation: The summon to excellence.

Too often, we treat special needs students as if it is sufficient to provide some tools for them to somehow stay afloat. If they manage to pass a class with a ‘C’, we compliment ourselves with a job well done. That they can equal or even excel “normal” students is something we rarely instill in them.

Yet when we have great expectations, supported by attentive and rigorous care, miracles happen. Some teachers are born miracle workers who can motivate struggling students to reach for the stars. I am not one of them. What I have tried over the years, however, is convincing these students that they are as good as any other student, that they can still be peak performers with discipline and hard work and with a resilience that rejects setbacks and negativity.

My success rate with such students certainly leaves room for improvement, but when a miracle happens, I learn anew what teaching is all about.

Let me explain. Maria looked lost on the first day of my statistics class. I saw fear in her eyes, even tears. She emailed me after two weeks of instruction that she was already behind, unable to understand what measures of center meant. “Should I drop your class,” she asked.

After weighing the options, I finally replied: “Don’t drop. Let’s meet during office hours and see where you are.”

We met twice weekly over the next several weeks, going over problems step-by-step. “It’s not easy,” I told her. “I had the same difficulty you are facing when I was learning this.”

Slowly, Maria started making progress. She began taking charge of her learning and, by extension, her destiny. One day she shocked me by saying, “I had a brain aneurysm three years ago and still recovering from it. But it’s finally clicking in my brain.”

I was stunned. Here was a student I was about to abandon if I had taken the easy way out by telling her to drop my class.

Maria received a well-deserved “A” in my class and is currently majoring in psychology at a local university. Since that time and through the pandemic, Maria’s words, “It’s finally clicking in my brain,” continue to inspire me.

My experience isn’t the same with all challenged students. Some vanish into the void by dropping out, others barely hang on. But many persist and flourish and find joy in learning they never thought they would.

I have colleagues at my college who routinely perform magic on their students and at scale. I hope to gain insights from them but for now, the equation that motivates me to teach is simple: Equity + Excellence = Transcendence.

Living a Purposeful Life

Nelson Mandela found his purpose early in life - ending apartheid, or racial segregation, in South Africa - and pursued it with a quiet but unwavering determination. If an aim in life is the only fortune worth finding, as Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde observed, Mandela found his fortune as a young activist in the 1940s and spent it fearlessly yet wisely until he helped banish the evil of apartheid from his beloved land. He lived by his credo of non-violence despite enduring 27 years (1962-1989) of inhuman abuse in prison. When he passed away in 2013 at the age of 95, he was universally recognized as one of the most heroic, magnanimous and conciliatory leader in history.

But the Nelson Mandelas of the world are rare. They epitomize the iconic, purpose-driven life we can only dream about. The sheer magnitude of their achievement seems beyond the capacity of ordinary mortals.

Yet we cannot shirk the responsibility of forging our own purpose in life, our personal pole star to steer us to our destination. Comparison with icons is not the key, having a purpose is. All around us are ordinary people doing extraordinary things. We do not find them in the headlines or in the labyrinth of social media, yet their influence shapes us, gives our lives meaning.

And imbue us with a purpose of our own.

I remember my English teacher in the ‘60s. A no-nonsense disciplinarian, his passion in life was to ensure that his students could write correct and coherent English sentences as part of a story. He forgave us if we failed to live up to his expectations but heaven help us if he sensed we were being lazy or indifferent! Facing the wrath of this teacher was one nightmare that kept us awake at night. When he learned that I was applying for admission to an English medium school, he ordered me to show up at his residence for an hour of private English tutoring twice a week after school. The man (this was in Chittagong, Bangladesh) lived in genteel poverty, yet he would not accept any money for his effort. Looking back on the experience half-a-century later, I can see that he not only taught us English but in a subliminal way imparted a more important lesson: if you are driven by a purpose, other things like money, fame and glory will recede in importance. When I made it to the private school, he was as happy for me as my parents were.

Think of the mothers, fathers, teachers, aunts, well-wishers unrelated by blood who helped you find your pole star. One of the most moving passages in literature acknowledges this profound truth. In Middlemarch, George Eliot wrote: “… for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

We now live in an age of anxiety and stress in which values like honesty, decency and integrity do not mean much, if at all. The cult of success has consumed us. The lust for lucre, power and fame dominate our thoughts and actions, made worse by the restlessness and discontent of a shallow, digital culture.

In other words, having a purpose in life has never seemed more urgent. The question is: How do we go about it?

Here are three ideas culled from my observation, experience and reflection. 

Value time – A life of purpose is contingent upon one simple truth: Our time on earth is finite. If we want to make a difference, be it in the life of a child or in the establishment of a beneficial institution, we must do it sooner rather than later. The frenetic pace of modern life misleads us into thinking that we will live forever when, in fact, death can claim us in our most unguarded moments. The worst thing we can do is to fritter away time in frivolous pursuits. When we value time, we honor life. The cosmos conspires to help us reach our goals in ways we can never imagine. To respect time is to turn its arrow into the arrow of truth. It is to live purpose in the most tangible of ways.

Practice patience – Just as we must fight for justice, so we must fight for purpose, for purpose can ebb and flow. Without patience, and its integrated ecosystem of passion, perseverance, perspective, tempered by a certain amount of playfulness, purpose can dissolve into despair and disappointment. It’s patience that keeps us on track when facing headwinds. The hunger for instant gratification kills patience. When patience leaves, so does purpose. Patience bridges the gap between what we do and what we value in life. The two most powerful warriors, said Tolstoy, are patience and time.

Be transformed by transcendence – The dictionary defines transcendence as ‘being beyond the limits of all possible knowledge and experience.’ In plain words, it means to submit to something bigger than ourselves. We cannot be obsessed by ‘I, Me, Mine’ if we are to have a purpose in life. Transcendence can mean serving others with the gift one has been blessed with, to act on the belief that there is more to living than basking in a life of ease and plenty. It is to know that all earthly things are temporal, be it the good life or the hard life, poverty or affluence, power or fame. For some, transcendence can mean raising considerate children, believing in the power of the unseen, being saved by the power of faith in the presence of doubt, infusing each day with grace and gratitude. For others, it can mean eliminating desire for inconsequential things, loving someone unconditionally, or developing the sensitivity “to see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower.’ Each of us must define our own purpose consistent with our moral values, work ethic and deepest yearnings. Solipsists can never have a sense of purpose, any more than narcissists and tyrants can have goodwill for others in their hearts.

We do not have to shine or excel in the worldly sense to live a purposeful life. We simply need to live that kind of a life, a life of modesty and moderation built on a foundation of good work and generous thoughts, a life nurtured by small acts of kindness practiced daily that feed the soul rather than by grandiose projects that, like mirage, remain forever beyond reach.