I was pleasantly surprised by Hold Fast to Dreams: A College Guidance Counselor, His Students, and the Vision of a Life Beyond Poverty, which I had assumed
was yet another account of a white teacher trying to be a “savior” in an inner-city school. And indeed, Joshua Steckel is a white college counselor at a
Brooklyn high school that serves a diverse group low-income and minority
students. But this book is not a cliché and asks its readers to think
critically about the promise and limits of higher education in an unequal society.
The narrative follows a set of students as they apply and
then go (or try to go) to college. The authors rely on interviews and essays
written by the students themselves, so the kids’ voices are front and center. We
see the stumbling blocks to access (e.g. parents needing to file taxes early
enough to be eligible for financial aid; visiting far-away schools; tensions
between individual aspiration and family responsibility, etc.), and we also see
the road blocks involved with degree fulfillment (identity issues on largely
white campuses; lack of a supportive cohort; financial strain; family pressure;
academic struggle, etc.).
What distinguishes this narrative from others like it is the
teacher’s vulnerability in showing his initial assumptions about and eventual
learning with the kids he serves (assumption #1: good students should
absolutely go to a four year, residential liberal arts college) or about the
colleges whose relationships he cultivates (assumption #2: colleges will really
commit to a student for four years with social and economic support). And in
the end, the reader gets a picture of the featured kids as real human beings
developing identities, rather than as statistics or exemplars or ‘future
workers.’ The reader also gets a sense of teaching as a deeply relational activity.
This is the second book this month whose title gives me
pause. The idea that this is a book that focuses only on “the vision of a life
beyond poverty” does not fully reflect the nuance of the stories in the
account. Zasloff and Steckel themselves
grow to understand that higher education – even for students who come from
challenging circumstances -- is often part of the process of building a “good
life.” A good life definitely has an
economic component, but it also involves “interests, passions, and abilities,”
[296] the balance between responsibility and self-fulfillment [296], and “a
search for meaning.” [297]. I wish the
title would reflect that complexity.
This is a provocative read, and a good one. I recommend it.
One thing of note -- The
New Press, which is a nonprofit, "public-interest" publisher, put out this book. It looks like they also published The New Jim Crow, which I've been meaning to read. The role of
the publishing industry in narrative nonfiction is an interesting one, and I’d like to
explore it more.
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