Acceptance into San Jose State University turned Joel Bridgeman and Anwar Estelle into instant neighborhood heroes. Few from the bleak Richmond streets make it to college. It meant never having to sweep the parking lot of Burger King again.But the reality of college hit hard. Upon arrival, they needed remedial courses. Financial aid fell through. Their families couldn't help. And hardly anyone on campus looked like them.
"It's demoralizing when you get here and you're starting off behind," Bridgeman said. "You think: Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought."
Much of the debate over the achievement gap has focused on helping African-American and Latino students graduate from high school and get into college. But the sobering reality is that the gap persists even there.
Bridgeman and Estelle prevailed and will celebrate at Saturday's graduation.
According to the Washington D.C.-based non-profit the Education Trust, nationally, the graduation rate is 53 percent; in contrast, the graduation rate of what schools call "underrepresented minorities" - blacks, Latinos and American Indians - is 45 percent. The gap has narrowed slightly in recent years - in 2002, only 42 percent of such students graduated.
A university is designed to be a meritocracy, admitting the best and brightest. In fact, it reinforces many of the advantages of birth - with success based on strong preparation, financial support and educated parents who hold high standards and expect disciplined effort.
For Bridgeman and Estelle, both 24, their poor preparation made them question whether they belonged. "You come out of high school thinking you're one of the smart kids and a good student - and then you realize that your high school sucked," Bridgeman said. "You're wondering: Can I really make it through college?"
Adding to the stress, most must also work. Estelle, a business administration major, woke at 5:40 a.m. for his on-campus administrative job, ate lunch, then worked at a Verizon cell phone store until 10 p.m. He once fell asleep during a statistics exam.
Not everyone makes it, he noted, because it requires a strong work ethic. "Some people are lazy," he said. "If your story ain't that bad, you got no excuse."
Studies have found that there's not enough financial aid for low-income students. When it's available, many students find the deadlines and paperwork too daunting. Part-time work - needed to pay rent and food - disqualifies some from tuition grants. Others are scared to take on large loans.
After a while, quitting seemed like the most logical thing to do.
"What we've learned is that it is crucial, especially during the first year, to connect on campus. It makes you feel part of a larger community," said Jeff Towey, a mentor at the Making Waves Education Program in Richmond.
For Bridgeman and Estelle, once classes were over, "We'd sit around and smoke cigars - same spot, every day - and talk about college stuff." If Estelle hadn't read a book for class, Bridgeman summarized it for him.
When Bridgeman's financial aid fell through, he slept on Estelle's sofa and cut hair in dormitories for $7 a person - and kept going to class. They both came close to dropping out. Sophomore year, Estelle walked into San Jose State's administrative offices to get permission and was rebuffed. "I guess she thought if I was stupid enough to ask, she'd just say, 'No,' " he recalled, laughing.
Bridgeman thought about it, too. But he reconsidered when his mentor, African-American studies Professor Stephen Millner, asked: "If you don't make it, what message does it give to all the other kids in your neighborhood?"
Membership in the black fraternity Iota Phi Theta during their junior year provided role models - and fun.
Frat brothers bonded during percussive dance "step shows," traveling to other schools for competitions. But on the way home, they studied. The startling 90 percent graduation rate of the small fraternity is triple the 30 percent rate of the school's overall African-American population.
Without the fraternity, Estelle said, "I definitely wouldn't have stayed. I'd be long gone."
From there, doors opened to new opportunities. Bridgeman, a political science major, landed an internship at the U.S. House of Representatives.
Together, Estelle and Bridgeman sponsored a fraternity-based "shadow day" for 25 black high school boys to accompany them on campus.
And last fall, the friends gathered new freshmen in a room, fed them pizza and offered advice."We say: 'Don't be a statistic,' " Bridgeman said. "If we did it, they can." Full story