Cami Anderson 2008 Acceptance Speech

Presented May 14, 2008, at Teach For America's Annual New York City Benefit Dinner

It’s truly humbling to be up here among friends, colleagues, and fellow reformers. One of the most incredible things about the Teach For America community is that it is one of a few places where I feel like a slacker. This is not by accident—very few things are random at Teach For America. The quality and commitment of the people affiliated with the organization—corps members, alumni, staff, supporters—is so extraordinary it is palpable.

(Indeed, the rigor and quality of the applicant pool—and yes, the stress—on my interview day is what made me sure I had to join the corps many years ago). The diaries we just heard from corps members, the accomplishments of the other alumni nominated for this award, Wendy’s speech and all that it represents, the conversation over cocktails…for those of you not familiar with the organization—this is common, believe it or not. I have no doubt that as a result of this evening, I will return to work tomorrow (bright and early) more strategic, more inspired, and even more focused on what needs to happen to radically change education. I will be a better leader for having been here, and for that reason I am especially humbled to accept this award in this crowd!

I want to tell you a very quick story, issue a challenge (for those of you who know me—it wouldn’t be me without asking the audience to do a little home work), and share one lesson from the past year.

About nine years ago, I took a number of Teach For America supporters to classrooms around the city to teach for a day; we hoped the experience would help give them first-hand appreciation of the challenges and opportunities of being a classroom teacher. One participant stood out. He shared with me that he had dropped out of high school as a mediocre student and was therefore overwhelmed with the responsibility of capturing and sustaining the attention of teen-agers for an hour. I am sure a number of people in this room have shared his pain…He called our office four times: refining and rethinking his lesson plan and wanting to ensure he communicated the right message about his academic background and subsequent success. When he got to the school, he almost refused to let me see him in action because he was so nervous. He was extraordinary in the end, telling his students about his own academic challenges and sharing details about how his love of telling stories propelled him to read, write, think critically, and ultimately prevail and succeed. That day he became one of my personal heroes.

Many people may not know that this is the life story and academic background of Peter Jennings—an extraordinary thought-leader of our generation who became involved in Teach For America through two great friends and champions of equity, Amy McIntosh and Jeff Toobin.

Peter’s story has so much in common with so many of the students I represent. Every young person in District 79 has met with some significant setbacks—they attended failing schools and never learned how to read, they struggled with mental health and/or addiction, they became parents at a young age, or they may have made poor choices the led to incarceration.

And yet their perseverance and resilience is nothing short of inspiring.

Indeed, it is the thing that propels me to match their commitment every day.

Here comes the challenge part…. As a community dedicated to educational equity we talk and act on our conviction that all young people can and must succeed. And yet our movement for excellence can sometimes leave people with the impression that only a select number of students really can.

Let me give you one example. So far this year on Riker’s Island 5,500 students voluntarily attended school for 5 to 7 hours a day and 200 have passed their GED exam. To be in the classrooms of some of our most successful teachers there, I defy you to find more dedicated, intellectually curious, and voracious learners anywhere. Inmates who can read and who get a diploma are three times less likely to re-offend and to commit violent crimes and have double the earnings potential and life prospect of their counterparts. We know what works—educating incarcerated individuals at high levels is a public education issue, a public safety issue, an economic issue, and a civil rights issue.

We know that resilient young people who defy the odds have the same things in common:

- One caring adult believes in them and is unrelenting in that belief even when the young person has doubt.

- They have an opportunity to have an impact on their community, regardless of how challenging their life circumstances may be.

- They are able to experiment with authority and autonomy in safe spaces with a careful balance of unyielding high expectations and a forgiving spirit that allows for second, third, and fourth chances.

- They see relevance in their learning.

- And they believe that they can have an impact on their own fate (that they are the starting actor in their own play).

We do know what works.

Yet, we see very little about excellence in correctional education or youth development and resilience in the public dialogue. Even in rooms like this of people who are dedicated to educational excellence, people wonder out loud if a place like District 79 can succeed and ask why I took this job.

Somehow we see the fate of our own children, children who happen to get into high-performing charter schools, students we label as gifted and talented, students who like to sit still in class and comply with adults, and the students in District 79 as fundamentally different. Somehow, we fail to see and to believe that there are 90 thousand future Peter Jennings in District 79. This is my challenge to you: to believe in them.

While we know what works, there is nothing easy about aligning systems and policies to make sure it happens for all young people—especially those young people that many would rather not struggle to reach. I accept this award on their behalf and pledge to continue to work relentlessly to find an entire generation of Peter Jennings in the places people never think to look.

In closing I want to say a few quick words to the corps members, alumni, and fellow civil right activists about what I have learned. There is so much to say, but I will put it simply this way:

1) I have worked for some of the best minds and hearts in the business—John, Cory, Michele, Joel, and Wendy.

2) I have worked alongside people with strengths and perspectives I lack—Vanessa, Giulia, Julian, Chanda, Nitzan.

3) I have been supported, challenged, and coached by friends and experts in many fields—Jide, Sue, Ken.

4) And, I have committed myself to being in this for the long haul by remembering to be healthy in my personal life by an incredible support network—Rebecca, Amy, Jen, Julian, Ruben, Jared.

5) Most importantly, I never forget why I am here—to serve and believe in the students people want to write off because of examples set for me at a very young age—exemplified by my mom, who is here tonight.

In short, I think you are only as effective as you are willing to risk failure, to learn voraciously, to confront difficulty, and to stay in the game in a healthy way. And, I believe you are only as strong as the people with whom you surround yourself. With the power in this room—the strength of the Teach For America community—and the resilience of the students in District 79, I feel humbled and emboldened to continue to fight for educational excellence over the long haul.