I was asked just the other day if young children really benefited from having adults talk to them about careers.
I was attending a meeting held at the local high school, where the topic was “ways to build upon traditional education.” One way, of course, is to have career fairs in the elementary school or have parents come and talk about their career of choice.
“I mean, the little ones in fourth and fifth grade, are they really listening?” asked a concerned mother.
I decided it was the perfect time to share some of my black history with this crowd of enthusiastic educators and parents.
I started by telling everyone to imagine back sixty years.
My mother lived in Opelika, Alabama. She was the seventh child of nine children born to Julius, a carpenter and minister, and Annie, a homemaker and Sunday school teacher.
My mother used to tell me about how the schools were segregated and she and her siblings had to walk across town to get to the black school. Passing one or two white schools along the way, it was difficult.
Mother told me how the white schools looked so new and clean and had brand new books each year. Her school was given the used, worn books from the white school each year.
My grandparents stressed education but did not have many dreams for their children outside of Opelika, Alabama.
This was not acceptable to my mother, a straight A student and all around book worm.
Sometimes during the week, my mother would baby sit for a well known white doctor. He knew how intelligent my mother was and urged her to think beyond the city limits. He told her to go into medicine.
He would often pay my mother for babysitting and then give her a medical book to take home and read. My mother used to tell me that at times she looked forward to reading those medical books more than the money.
When the other kids would tease my mother and tell her she would never be a nurse, the kind doctor would tell her that, no matter what others said or that the laws were pushing segregation, she could be in the medical field and she could succeed.
This young doctor took time to instill in my mother confidence. Her parents joined him by encouraging her to study hard and speak properly.
Before long, my mother was graduating from Grady Nursing College in Atlanta, Georgia at the top of her class. She went on to obtain two Masters Degrees and a host of other higher-learning diplomas and certificates.
She did not let segregation, prejudice or nay-sayers stop her from pursuing her dream. That doctor’s dream of helping her and encouraging her was the start of “career coaching” as we now know it.
By the time I finished my story, the group voted unanimously to keep having career day for younger kids.
Black history is history for everyone to learn from.
Thanks for sharing.