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LOOKING THROUGH THE GLASS DARKLY

De Voka J. Gordon
University of Pittsburgh

I recall negative experiences I had with education at an early age.  I remember the difficulty I had trying to learn the alphabets while sitting at the kitchen table.  I remember my teachers speaking with my parents concerning how slow I was in processing the basic levels of reading, writing, and arithmetic. The teachers thought that maybe I was mentally challenged or bordered somewhere along that line. My course of education seemed to have already been mapped out.

As a youngster I remember my third grade teacher giving the class a writing assignment, telling us to write an essay on what we wanted to be when we grew up.  I wrote about wanting to be an English teacher. After reading the essay, she told me it was not possible for me to become a teacher. Thirty-five years later I still remember her words.

Throughout the rest of my elementary, junior-high, and high school years I remember teachers and counselors trying to persuade me toward the commercial, non-academic track of study. I knew that the general perception of students of color was that of not being able to successfully compete in academic or college prep courses. The teachers and counselor’s way of thinking was not to waste their time, since it was a known fact that students of color could only succeed in a technical program, possibly learning a trade, as long as they did not have to apply any cerebral effort. I completed my senior year of high school with more credits than I needed, and I got an opportunity to take some college prep math courses. I was the only female student of color in the class; needless to say the teacher and the class virtually ignored me. I took my senior year of high school in stride, since I was accepted in the only college that I applied to before I had completed high school. I figured it had to get better; little did I know.

My major field of concentration in college was speech communications. My end goal was to become a speech pathologist. My career goal was modified because of racial bias that an undergraduate professor exhibited.  What she did to make my life miserable ranged from giving low grades to humiliating me in the classrooms. Another student, a black male, and I were the only students of color in her classes; we received the lowest grades in the classes of this particular teacher. To humiliate us, after a test she would call our names in class and ask to speak with us at the conclusion of the class, which she proceeded to remind us of how far behind we were in conjunction with the rest of the class. White students would approach me later and ask if we bombed the test and if that was the reason she wanted to meet us after class. The seed of black inferiority planted in their minds was being watered by this college professor. As I approached the end of my undergraduate years, I noticed her encouraging, supporting, and writing letters of recommendations for white students to get into graduate schools to complete their master degree in speech pathology. I asked her to consider me.  She looked at me in my eyes and told me I was not a graduate school material and I did not have the grades to get into graduate school. I had the grades in my other speech communication courses.  What I did not have was the grades in her classes.  She made certain of that. Then again the joke was on me.  I let this professor into my mind but more importantly in my heart, believing that she was right, maybe I was out of my element in this educational area, maybe I could not compete and I did not belong there.

I completed my undergraduate degree in three years. I left the college with a BA in speech communications in my hand and echoing words of the professor in my mind who told me that I was not a graduate material.  However a little spot in the corner of my heart told me differently. I floundered in this mode of feeling inadequate for eight years. Encouragement from family and friends saw me completing my elementary teaching certificate, and eventually applying to and being accepted into an educational graduate program. While working on my teaching certificate, I was the only student of color in this particular class. I confided to a friend the racial bias I felt concerning the grading of my papers and general overall attitude toward me in this class. To prove what I was feeling was not a conjecture on my part, my friend and I wrote separately on the topics assigned to the class.  We met before class and exchanged papers. I put my name on the cover sheet of her paper and she put her name on the cover sheet of my paper, and we handed them in. The following week she received an "A" for the paper she handed in and I received a "C." My friend apologized but it was not her fault. We let the matter drop. What could we do or who would we tell?

Two years later I applied to and enrolled in a program that allowed me to receive a M.Ed in health education. While in this master program, I received a fellowship that permitted me to complete the program. I sent my undergraduate professor the news article that announced to the community that I was a recipient of a fellowship from the local university.

Still carrying that little spot in the corner of my heart telling me that I did have what it took to compete in the educational arena, four years later I applied to and was accepted in a doctoral program. The doctoral journey is a typical story in and of itself. For my doctoral dissertation I investigated variables that related to the successful doctoral degree attainment of educated African-American women, evaluating the life experiences of black women who pursue the doctoral degree in education.

This process felt like a solo journey. There were times I felt alone and helpless as I wrestled with my topic. I struggled with finding adequate research as it related to my topic.  Due to university constraints I experienced difficulty in securing participants for my study. I wrestled with rewrites, not being able to track down articles and books. Nothing is more frustrating and disheartening than trying to locate a journal or book essential to my topic, after combing and climbing through stacks of books and periodicals for hours, only to realize the entire bound periodical volume is missing. I walked in between the stacks of books and libraries in tears, utterly frustrated. I felt alone as I endured late nights, early mornings, and computer crashes (losing twenty pages of my dissertation).

Needless to say as I slowly and steadily proceeded through the educational process, I came to realize that I could compete in the academic arena. On May 3, 1999 I was one of 6000 students (500 doctoral candidates) that walked across the graduation platform to be hooded by their professors. I was no longer looking through the dark glass of inadequacy, failure, or disappointment. Now I am seeing clearly through the mirror of success, accomplishments, achievements, and triumph.

De Voka J. Gordon is a Ed.D in Policy, Planning and Evaluation from the Administrative Policy Studies Department, University of Pittsburgh. Currently employed as a Technical Assistant Consultant with the Instructional Support System of Pennsylvania.

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Recommended Citation in the APA style:

Gordon, De Voka. (1999). Looking Through The Glass Darkly. Electronic Magazine of Multicultural Education [online], 1(4), 9 paragraphs. <Available: http://www.eastern.edu/publications/emme/1999fall/gordon.html> [your access year, month date]