MH was an enigma. On paper, he seemed like a model student: 3.73 GPA, 1400 SAT score, 92% attendance. But in person, he was distant, sarcastic, and noncommittal. When asked about his personal life or postsecondary plans, he would change the subject; if pressed, he would insist he was going to become a world-famous rapper or producer. He missed his SAT retest in Novemberânot because he overslept or missed the bus, like many of his peers, but simply because he didnât feel like taking it. MH was his own role model, and nobody else could tell him what to do. For months, my teammates and I were at a loss.
In December, I decided to try a different approach. I told MH that many colleges had a music/production program, and although he didnât have the formal training to apply directly, he could start college as an undecided major and transfer into music after taking the prerequisites. If worst came to worst, he would have a college degree to take to the job market, which would all but guarantee a higher starting salary. This was enough to get him started on applications.
Then came the personal statement. If thereâs one thing I know about my students, it is that they hate structured writing prompts. After reminding MH all winter break long to work on his personal statement to no avail, I sat him down this week and asked him to write a rap instead. My two conditions were that it had to be personal, and it had to address what success after high school meant to him. Over the course of a few hours, he created the piece below (reprinted with permission). Iâll let the lyrics speak for themselves.
Thereâs something about attacking a track Get me in a celebratory feeling Feeling like nobody is willing Or capable of keeping up with my skills at any given moment If there is thrill in the hunt There is glory for the victor Picture me being supported by Alcoholism Drowning out my sorrows with a bottle Letting my dreams fall in my lap Like a stack of Legos Thatâs childâs play I ain't been one since I had to take care of my siblings at age 10 Since then I felt more grown than A college graduate No kids A stable job Making over 80K With benefits And I want that So I canât have no more chances Drop out of my hand Done fumbling the ball, No more hiking it boy Iâm picking it up and taking it home The only way I learned was to do it was on my own My first introduction into hip-hop My dad was scratching on the turntables in basement Inspired to start rapping then just Didnât know what it was yet But I do know that This is a basic dream of every teenage minority In Philly The difference is I put heart in it I donât talk about popping off guns Selling drugs I speak facts Things that really happened to me While they continue with that redundancy Endless loop They stuck and they just donât know Some of my friends are a part of that lifestyle But they just canât let go Partly because a family molds a certain image Of your personality If they ainât there to support you Then you left all alone like Macaulay Culkin But you donât have the money like they have So riddle me this right before I end it Why is it a struggle to survive in a city Where everyone is supposed to be your brother There is a lot of envy So many blank stares Feels like death got me in his rearview mirror Iâm trying to get out of that now Taking back my own future Starting leading Iâm in charge of it now