"We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives. "
~John F. Kennedy
For as long as I can remember I wanted to "go to" Crenshaw High School. In the 1970's Crenshaw was one of the most popular high schools in South Central, Los Angeles. The band was good. The football team was raw. The basketball team was incredible. You know, all the stuff kids are impressed with before they realize getting an actual education is the priority? Mmmm hmmmm. When I was a little girl I had an elementary school friend named, "Yvette Marie Nelson" (if you know her, please tell her I miss her, have been looking for her and would love to hear from her) who's older sister, Lizzie was a student at Crenshaw AND a varsity cheerleader. Every chance we could get Yvette and I would tag along with Lizzie to cheer practice, Yvette holding one of Lizzie's big fluffy blue and gold pom poms and me holding the other. We would sit in the bleachers and try to follow along while Lizzie and the rest of the cheerleaders practiced shouting out,
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| Shaw City...Sittin' Pretty! |
I said a, 1-2 who are you? Crenshaw!
3-4, who's gonna score? Crenshaw!
5-6, who do you pick? Crenshaw!
7-8, who's looking great? Crenshaw!
9-10, who's gonna win? Crenshaw!
Say it again!
Crenshaw!
Who's gonna win?
Crenshaw!
I said a, 10-9, who's so fine? Crenshaw!
8-7 who's going to heaven? Crenshaw!
6-5, who don't jive? Crenshaw!
4-3, who are we? Crenshaw!
2-1, who's number one? Crenshaw!
Lizzie was smart, popular and so incredibly proud to be a Crenshaw Cougar! As a little brown ashy girl I wanted to have that kind of high school experience and I just knew that could only happen at Crenshaw. When the time came I convinced my mother to send me from Audubon Junior High School right on to 5010 11th Avenue. Little did I know back then attending that inner city jewel would be one of the best decisions of my life and a desperately needed safe haven for me when my world outside of Crenshaw was chaotic and lonely.
While I was in high school I bounced from foster home to foster home while my mother fell victim to crack cocaine but no matter where I was placed, I made it to Crenshaw every morning for first period. You could not pay me to miss one single day! Yeah, I was late many a morning but still managed to convince Homer to let me through the front gates. Once inside those gates the reality of my home life faded into the background and I was able to focus on good things and just be a kid, you know? Crenshaw was the best thing in my life back then. Grabbing a greasy egg sandwich from the truck that sat outside the school every morning before the first bell rang. Rushing to "nutrition" to get one of those tiny orange juice boxes and that delicious warm coffee cake. Passing notes in class to boys answering their question, "Will you go with me? Check "Yes" or "No." Getting my groove on at the noon dances and rushing back to class sweaty and musty from actually dancing (most kids don't do that now). Just making it past the classroom door in time to avoid Pozzo and Kiehl's "tardy sweeps." Submitting song requests for the "Campus Top 10" on KDAY, "Crenshaw High That's Where I'm From!" Dressing for cheer practice after school (JC and Varsity, baby!). Asking for bogus hall passes to go to the bathroom just to walk slowly by the classroom of some knuckle headed boy I liked. "Pssst. Pssst." Partying in the "Cougar's den" to DJ Reg on the turntables during basketball games where we would BLOW out the visiting team. 'Dem Shaw ballers were b a d! Spilling outside the front gates with everyone else just in time to see the car show that would be waiting for us. Nissans. Bugs. Caprice Classics. Suzuki Samurai Jeeps.
In the 80's my classmates and I were not unlike any of the hundreds of brown kids growing up in the inner city. Most of us were living to not get caught up with the local gang sets, fall victim to a random and senseless drive-by or become teen parents. There was very little question back then that we would graduate high school, though. We even talked about what we would wear graduation day which included dress pants, ties, dress shirts, dresses and "pumps." None of that foolishness we see now a days with kids dressing super casual under their cap and gown or way too "grown." Nuh uh! Back then you dressed up for graduation because it was an expectation and cause to be fancy and proud. But! Discussions about college were few and far between. A lot of us would graduate and move on to get a full time job making what the old folks called, "money," remaining right in the neighborhood we came of age in. Some even went to the military. But if we went to college?!? Many of us would be first generation in our families to do so and to make that happen, we needed help.
"Faith, you have been summoned down to the counselor's office." That's what my teacher told me back in 1987 in the middle of class. Now, because I was constantly getting into this or that because of my slick tongue and plots to get over on the faculty I figured my latest caper was discovered. Dang! I trotted down the steps of the main hallway, made my way past the main office and readied myself for the fanciful story I would weave to get out of trouble. I sat down in the counselor's office and waited for what seemed like forever. I looked up when my name was finally called and standing before me was this tall older white woman. "Oh, Lord...I must really be in trouble now!", I thought. She called me further into her office, pulled out what had to be my cumulative file and asked if I had plans to go to college because I most certainly could with my GPA. College. That woman's name was Mrs. Goodman and that simple question completely change my life.
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| UCSB Class of 1993 |
Month after month after month, Mrs. Goodman shoved college brochures into my hands, told me to read them and come to her with any questions. She bombarded me with this paper and that paper and made sure I understood what deadline was coming next. She demanded that I get a good night's sleep before the SAT and have a solid breakfast the morning of the test. She proofread my college admission essays that went along with those pesky college applications. There wasn't one fee waiver for a college application I did not apply for and get because of her diligence. She hounded me to compete for every possible scholarship to go along with grants I would need to even afford college. Shout out to Delta Sigma Theta for that large scholarship! She made sure to encourage me to talk to graduates from the Class of 1987 that were thriving in colleges she pushed them off to. You should have been how proud she was to greet them with warm hugs and pats on the back when they came back to Crenshaw for homecoming covered head to toe in their college paraphernalia! I wanted to be like those kids and grew more and more enthusiastic about the idea of going to college. And then we waited.
Slowly and I mean slowly, college acceptance letters started coming in. All the fear, anxiety and worry that sat in my belly about what would happen to me after graduation faded away with each letter I opened that said, "It is my pleasure to inform you of your acceptance to..." When it was all said and done I was able to decide what college I wanted to attend from several options since Mrs. Goodman made sure I applied to damn near every university in California. Ultimately I went with my first choice, University of California at Santa Barbara and I was so very excited. I WAS GOING TO COLLEGE!!! Just 2 months after graduating high school I would be a freshman living in the dorms with a meal plan at the dining commons and my entire first year covered through grants and scholarships. A place to live. Food to eat. And an education! The transition into college wasn't easy for me, though. After a tough freshman year where I felt way out of place and unsure, I settled into the fullness of college life more every year and graduated with new found character, plenty of hustle and a real opportunity to do and be something great in my small part of the world.
Some 26 years later, I still think of Mrs. Goodman when I reach some educational or professional goal. I wonder to myself if she would be proud of me and what I have made of my life thus far? I can't remember if I properly thanked Mrs. Goodman for all of her hard work on my behalf. I mean, I would like to think I expressed my appreciation while I was a student sitting in her office but let's be honest...gratitude does not come easy to most teenagers and expressing it certainly is not a priority. A recent post on Facebook by a fellow Cougar (THE Bruce Herron) inspired me to attempt to reconnect with Mrs. Goodman one more time and wouldn't you know I found her?!?! I was able to tell her how amazing she was to me then. How incredible it was that she swooped in at just the right time and guided me to a brighter future. How fantastic her willingness to push me towards goodness was and it helped grow my trust in people that do not look like me. How her dream for me inspired me to practice dreaming for myself. And...how that tiny seed she planted in the late 80's has blossomed into a vibrant, flourishing flower alongside countless over vibrant and flourishing flowers that are thriving in a beautiful garden Mrs. Goodman helped plant back at THE Crenshaw High School. We are lawyers, nurses, educators, social workers, entrepreneurs, government employees, veterans and well adjusted adults. And of course, we are THE mighty, mighty Crenshaw High School Cougars! Thank you, Mrs. Goodman. Thank. You.
