Tagged: Freedom Writers

May 16

Education, Pride, and Hope for the Future

Last week I had the pleasure of traveling to Cincinnati to speak to students, oh behalf of the Freedom Writers, about the importance of education and how one choice can have major consequences.

I recalled the high academic expectations my mother had for me and how hard she worked to make sure I got a quality education. How she constantly reminded me that education was my ticket to life as more than just a secretary or working retail.

For a long time, I thought my story of fighting every step of the way to achieve my mother’s dream was insignificant, compared to some of the other Freedom Writer stories of violence and abuse. But seeing the kids in Cincinnati — many of whom are also being pushed to go to college, while not really seeing any resources to accomplish this goal — made me realize that my story can help give these students hope.

I also had to reflect on the fact that while education is a great opportunity equalizer, there are even fewer resources available for these students than there were for me. Education budgets are being slashed and the result is crowded schools and classes, overworked teachers who have been villanized, and students who have little hope for their educational future.

Still, I did my best to inspire and encourage the students despite the increasingly difficult atmosphere in which going to college seems like an impossible dream.

And on my way home, I got an amazing phone call. My oldest son is being awarded a scholarship to a boarding school in Washington DC because of his outstanding academic achievement and strong leadership. My hope was restored that while the resources seemed to be shrinking away, there are still opportunities for kids who work hard to rise above the rest and be recognized for it.

I know that he’ll have to work twice as hard while being away from his family and surrounded by other kids whose parents are probably paying their tuition to this private school. But my fear that there would be too much pressure for him was calmed when he told me that he was ready and would do whatever it took, because this was his chance.

His chance to get a great education and a solid foundation to prepare him to get into a great college.

And my heart swelled with pride, remembering how hard I had worked to impart the same value for education as my mother had imparted to me. This legacy was being passed on, and there is hope that my son will one day earn a college degree and become a second generation college graduate.

Image by DieselDemon

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Feb 25

Of Freedom Riders and Freedom Writers

To celebrate Black History Month and to honor the 50th Anniversary of the Freedom Ride, the Freedom Writer Foundation asked me share what it means to be a Freedom Writer now. Here is my letter:

I had been taught that people fought and died for my freedom and, if the time came, I should do the same. I was taught through the examples of the Freedom Riders, Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, John Lewis, and the Little Rock Nine, that it takes but a spark of action to make a change. I was keenly aware that the freedom I enjoyed and the opportunities I had access to would not have been available to me if not for these brave people becoming such catalysts.

This year, the 50th Anniversary of the Freedom Riders, I reflect on my Freedom Writer journey, the inspiration of the Freedom Riders and the opportunity given to me by Ms. G to become part of a movement for diversity awareness and educational equality. This was my chance to follow in the footsteps of great leaders who refused to cower in the face of injustice. I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time or how much hard work such an undertaking would require, including putting my heart, time and energy where my mouth and idealism were. In the end, I gained so much more than I could ever have given.

I have published a book, traveled the world, earned awards and trained teachers. On top of all this, when I thought it was over, it was the full scholarship from the Freedom Writers Foundation that enabled me to be the first in my family to graduate from college. I don’t know what my life would be like had I not been given the Freedom Writers Scholarship. What I do know is that it provided me with a foundation for success.

The Freedom Writers Foundation still awards scholarships to students and provides teacher training through the Freedom Writers Institute. Educators are in a prime position for planting the seed of change in students. Through the Freedom Writers Institute, Ms. G and the Freedom Writers work to give teachers the tools they need, not only to plant the seed, but nourish it as well. You see, while the Freedom Writers were inspired by our namesake the Freedom Riders, it was Ms. G who gave us the tools and opportunity to become change agents ourselves.

You don’t have to be a teacher or work in a classroom to make a difference in the classroom. By making a donation to the Freedom Writers Foundation, you can help the Foundation continue making dreams come true with college scholarships and giving teachers the training they need to close the educational gap one classroom at a time.

Thank you for your support.

Sincerely,
Kimberlee Morrison
Freedom Writer

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Feb 07

Do-or-Die: In Pursuit of the Dream

I’ve had several people ask me what is “freedom writing” and what are “Freedom Writers.” It started as a bunch of kids writing their stories in the hopes that someone might read and find hope. Funny thing is that sometimes I have to go back to my own story when I’m looking for hope and motivation to persevere through hard times and achieve my goals. To wit, I share with you this excerpt from The Freedom Writer’s Diary: 10th Anniversary Edition.

Dear Diary,

I was five months pregnant when I graduated from high school. I wasn’t worried, though, because I had a plan. I was going to college and I was going to make something of myself. For a while the plan worked and I worked the plan. Spring semester came around and I jumped in full speed ahead, ready to conquer the world. But as time went on, and the plan didn’t seem to be taking me any closer to my goal of graduating from college, my vision started to grow dimmer and dimmer.

It was 30 minutes before my intro to mass media class; a course from which I was on the verge of being dropped because I was either late or absent on a regular basis. I spent the previous 30 minutes trying to scrounge up a few bucks to put gas in my car. I dumped my change jar and counted almost four dollars in pennies. Then I dug in the couch, under beds, in junk drawers, in my purse, and checked every pants or coat pocket until I had exactly five dollars. I put them in a ziplock bag and headed to the gas station, hoping I could get to class on time.

“I can’t take that,” said the little Asian woman, when I went to hand her the bag. She didn’t even move to it. “How do I know it’s five dollars?” ( Read more )

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