The Inheritance of Poverty

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[Applause]

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i grew up on the wrong side of the

railroad tracks

i was born and raised in the midwest in

a region

colloquially known as the rust belt and

when deindustrialization

suburbanization and white flight reached

dayton ohio

there was a disparate impact on

neighborhoods

property values and school districts

my community was located in the center

of a food desert

surrounded by aging housing and zero

economic investment

so naturally i attended a high poverty

under-resourced

low-performing school district from

kindergarten

through 12th grade in the first grade

i was given the label gifted i loved

school

and excelled in all of my subjects i

remember mastering my multiplication

tables

being assigned more challenging spelling

words than my peers

and reading anything i could get my

hands on

fast forward to high school i graduated

with a 1.2

cumulative gpa i accumulated a total of

d’s and f’s on my high school transcript

and i collectively skipped

over 240 days of high school

but before you label me a failure let me

tell you a few facts about my home

environment

i grew up in a house that was

hazardously hoarded

the conditions inside the home were

deplorable

infested with rats and cockroaches which

made it difficult to eat

sleep or to ever enjoy an element of

peace

i used electric fans in the summers and

space heaters during the brisk ohio

winters

each winter i could see my breath every

time i spoke

i never hung a shirt up in a closet i

never folded one

and placed it inside of a drawer and i

never learned how to make a bed

i went to sleep hungry every night for

17 years

and the majority of my after-school

meals came in the form of chips

little debbies and sugary drinks from

the local corner store

from the age of two until the age of 17

i slept on the floor on what i was

trained to call

a pallet never once was i able to sleep

in a bed

because each bedroom was filled to the

brim and inaccessible

i kept my meager school clothes in a

black trash bag

on the floor right next to me where i

slept in an effort to try and keep the

roaches

and rats away on the days i did manage

to attend school

i would sprint to the bus stop early and

shake my backpack so i wouldn’t carry

any cockroaches to school

i never hosted a sleepover and i never

invited a childhood friend inside my

house

earlier this year i read brian

stevenson’s

new york times bestseller just mercy

the book primarily follows the life of

walter mcmillan

an african-american man who was

wrongfully accused of murder

based on the systemic racism in the

community

but there was a particular passage in

the book that gave me chills

because of how it resonated with my

childhood

it read if you act out by saying

something insubordinate

or refuse to comply with an order given

to you by a correctional officer

you are forced to sleep on the concrete

floor of your cell

without a mattress as a child

i always wondered what heinous crime had

i committed

to be sentenced to the floor when i

watched movies

i noticed that even the prisoners had

beds

these moments had a profound impact on

my subconscious

and led to a devaluing of my own

existence

in grade school instead of paying

attention

i would count my classmates and wonder

if i was the only one

sleeping on the floor this anger

manifested itself around the third and

fourth grade

and my grades and behavior took a steep

nose dive

on a path towards self-destruction

many educational researchers have

labeled this phenomena

the fourth grade failure syndrome during

this time

the gifted label i had been given was

being slowly replaced by a new label

at risk in high school

i vividly remember my algebra teacher

from freshman year

he was an older white male an ex-marine

with a snarky sense of humor usually he

was pressing the small black button

in the corner of the class to inform the

school secretary

that i was no longer eligible to remain

in his class

but one day after handing me back one of

my lackluster exams

he said something to me that i will

never forget

he said son some people take algebra 2

but you my friend will take algebra

twice

this was a profound moment for me

because of the juxtaposition of being

told

that i was gifted just eight years

earlier

by this exact same school district

through a mixture of saturday school

summer school

and correspondence packets i somehow

managed to reach the status

of high school senior in lockstep with

my cohort

and there was one day in particular that

i happened to attend school

my senior year that i will never forget

it was the day when two caucasian

admission representatives arrived at my

predominantly black high school

to deliver a presentation in the school

library

per usual i tuned out as i often did

when adults stood in front of me to

speak

i’m not sure if my executive functions

had been altered

because i hadn’t eaten a nutritious meal

in months or if my attention span had

been hijacked

because i opted to sleep in my 1987

non-operational ford tempo the last few

nights to avoid the rats

or maybe i knew that they weren’t there

to recruit students like me

nonetheless one part of their

presentation grabbed my full attention

we have a chick-fil-a and a pizza hut

right on campus

in our main dining hall for someone who

has survived on minimal sustenance

for over a decade those words were music

to my ears and their next words were

even more powerful

the great thing about western kentucky

is we have two routes to admission

either a 2.5 gpa or a 20 composite

on the a.c.t for the first time

in nearly eight years i raised my hand

in an academic setting and asked

so if you have below a 2.5

you can still get in as long as you get

a 20 on the a.c.t

to my delight they confirmed and handed

me a pamphlet with even more details

about this mystical place after the

presentation

i snuck off and caught up with the

recruiters just before they reached the

metal detectors

on their way back to the parking lot i

needed to confirm this peculiar

admissions policy

i began prepping for the exam inside the

house that i hated i sat on a plastic

bin

with hangers pressed against my back and

mice running across my feet

after two weeks of minimal preparation

the time had arrived

i woke up extra early to catch the

public bus downtown

to the prestigious private school where

the test was being administered

i remember walking up to the school and

noticed other kids being dropped off by

their parents

tight hugs and well wishes had filled

the parking lot

it was at this moment i thought to

myself

shimari what the hell are you doing here

there is no way you can score a 20 on

this test

the two weeks of studying an hour a day

was the most time i spent reading since

the third grade

i scored a 20 exactly on the a.c.t exam

that saturday morning

and attended that very college because

of a random presentation

that made promises of a campus

chick-fil-a

and access to a bed my life changed

drastically

because of my score on that test

it was in this dorm room for the first

time in my life

that i had the ability to sit down at a

desk

the opportunity to host friends 24 7

access to fresh food and most

importantly

a bed to sleep in

we know that a child’s listening and

learning skills

behavior and cognitive development all

improve just by sleeping in a bed

and we know that being hungry is

distracting and makes it difficult to

focus

imagine how many of our children are

forced to overcome

not only the structural inequities in

our country but are also chronically

sleeping on the floor

going to bed hungry and shuttled to

schools ill-equipped to prepare them

for the economic realities of the 21st

century

should some of america’s most

disadvantaged students

be measured against students groomed

from the finest private schools

by way of standardized tests

in my unique circumstance the

standardized test was an equalizer

but i was only one missed question away

from extending my 17-year sentence with

oppression

the tight rope walk out of poverty

leaves little to no margin for error

for a country that praises itself on

meritocracy

and class mobility what upward mobility

is truly available

for children from the most disadvantaged

backgrounds

i often wonder what my act score might

have been that saturday morning

had i not faced such daunting barriers

in my home life

my life has not been immune from unjust

encounters with the police

it has included a laundry list of odd

jobs that began as a 14 year old janitor

and i’ve spent many of my adult years

without health insurance

i once heard it said that the biggest

market failure of all

is picking the wrong parents we should

be investing substantially more

resources

into the communities neighborhoods and

school districts

that need them the most to help level

the playing field

for america’s most disadvantaged

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children

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