OVERVIEW

Elizabeth’s mother once came to her grade school in a nightgown with feces on her shoes. Still, the school staff didn’t realize how bad things were at home. The mother had been in and out of hospitals. Both parents were alcoholics who did cocaine openly in the kitchen. Besides her parents, Liz shared a filthy apartment with an equally filthy and neglected younger sister, two cats and a dog—whom no one walked or cared for. They were the source of most of the feces that littered the floor and became covered with maggots.

On good days, Elizabeth’s mother read her Dr. Seuss stories and listened to old records; her father—he is ‘extremely intelligent’—would quote from 1940 novels but ‘then go into the kitchen and shoot up drugs.’

With neither parent bringing food or clothes into the apartment, Liz, at the age of 8 or 9, began working, bagging groceries at a supermarket. She later pumped gas for tips at a self-service gas station. Once in desperation, her mother sold her sister’s winter coat for a little cash.

After the parents separated (Liz was then 13), her father ran out of money and lost the apartment. Elizabeth was put in a youth facility but couldn’t stand to stay there—" ‘it was dehumanizing, and I’m too full of spirit.’ " Her mother and her godfather were old drinking buddies and living together, so Liz moved in with them for a while. But her mother was diagnosed with AIDS and tuberculosis and died in 1996.

By the ninth grade Liz dropped out of school. She would hang out at libraries reading Hamlet and Shakespearean sonnets. One of her favorite poems was Edgar Allen Poe’s "Alone."

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.

By the age of 16 Liz was homeless. She would sleep at friends’ homes until their parents grew uneasy, and then she would move on, sleeping on park benches or subways, panhandling for necessary change.

When her mother died, she felt she hit bottom. The coffin was a simple, "donated pine box with the mother’s name misspelled in Magic Marker." She decided she should go back to school. In fact, she tells it to kids in school assemblies like this:

Reality really hit me. Everything I knew about had messed up. And I understood it was important to push myself, that I’d either make it good for myself…or submit to everything that was happening and live a life of excuses.

A teacher at her old school recommended she try the Humanities Preparatory Academy, a small specialized school for students like her. She was accepted, although her transcript was "one big blank." She was still living on the streets and with friends, but she studied hard—"terrified to fail." She was one of the smartest kids in the school, according to teachers. Her grades were in the high 90s, and she completed the four-year program in two years. Selected as one of the school’s top students for a field trip to Boston, she found herself in Harvard Yard dreaming that this might be her college. The accompanying teacher saw the look on her face, came over and said to her, " ‘It’s very improbable, but still possible.’ "

Harvard will not reveal how they judge such cases but they do describe their policy:

‘We look at: How will this person contribute to the education of his or her fellow classmates? And based on the record of accomplishments this person has, what can we guess about what kind of contribution to society will this person make over his or her lifetime? Given the cards this person has been dealt, how has this person been able to maximize his or her opportunities? Has this person reached out to others, served to stimulate and inspire others? These are the standards we apply to everyone, and the standards we applied to her.’

Liz has reached out to others and some special persons have reached out to her. Thanks to a celebrity sponsor, she is now well off and able to help some of her old street friends. Actresses and playwrights are among her friends. She is working on a book about her story that is bound to become a movie someday. " ‘Now the girl who picked food out of trash cans and did her homework in stairwells is checking her voice mail on a cell phone.’ "

She is also talking to kids about her life. One student at PS 95 asked her if "she ever felt sorry for herself while she was homeless." She quickly said, " ‘No. I never felt sorry for myself. That is a useless emotion.’ "

Yet, there is one thing for which Liz says she would give up the talk shows and literary agents.

‘Sometimes I go to my friends’ houses and hear them call for their mom. Or I am with my sister and father and see an empty place where my mother should be. If I could trade what I have now for that, I absolutely would.’

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION AND DISCUSSION

1. What do you see as one of the most difficult situations or events of Liz’ life?
2. Why and how do some make it when others, with fewer difficulties crumble? What do you see of resiliency in this story?
3. With whom and how would you like to discuss this story?
4. What can be learned from it and what do you personally take from it?

IMPLICATIONS

1. This is another study of resiliency. Certain inner strengths can come together with critical external supports enabling human beings to move from trauma to healing and success.
2. This story also reveals how the public school system and social services can miss opportunities to intervene in desperate situations.
3. Teachers who encouraged Liz’ grade school, who recommended her to the Humanities Preparatory Academy, the teachers of that institution, friends along the way, sponsors who have really cared, and Harvard Admissions should all be thanked.
4. We should be thankful for resilient leaders like Liz, who can inspire kids today.

Dean Borgman cCYS