Category: Heroes

A Reincarnation of Greatness

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

13336082_10210337423138893_4040514413157681129_nFor all of my life my life my high school English teacher, Father Shane, has remained one of my favorite teachers. He inspired me and broadened my horizons at a time when I lived a rather isolated existence. It was Father Shane who introduced me to a world of new experiences. I fell in love with the English language under his guidance and learned how to write almost on demand. From him I developed a love of art, music, poetry and reading. For four years I counted his class as my favorite of each school day. It was not at all surprising that I majored in English in college, wanting to expand my knowledge and honor him. Imagine my surprise and excitement when years later I walked into a high school classroom to observe a teacher who reminded me so much of Father Shane that he might have been the reincarnation of the man who had so mesmerized me when I was young.

I was the Dean of Faculty at KIPP Houston High School and my duties included visiting classrooms and mentoring teachers. It was in that vein that I went to see Dickie Written, an English teacher that the principal had only recently hired. I sat in the back  of his classroom and almost immediately felt as though I had been transported back to my old high school days. Dickie had a way of teaching that was exciting and I noticed that students who had never before shown much interest in English were actively participating in the discussions that he led. There was a merriment to the lessons but also a serious exploration of the meaning of words, phrases, and descriptions of literary analysis. I had to contain myself to keep from raising my hand and becoming involved in the lively back and forth.

Each time I visited Dickie Written I became more and more convinced that his style and delivery was amazingly similar to Father Shane’s. I laughed on one occasion when he guided his students through a study of The Crucible by acting out parts from the play that he had memorized. I felt as though I was watching a grand Broadway production as he changed his voice and facial expressions to match the tenor of each line. I wasn’t the only one who was enchanted. It was obvious that the students were also hanging onto his every word.

I definitely knew that Dickie Written was an outstanding teacher when his students walked through the hallways of the school quoting lines from Beowulf and insisting that it was one of their favorite books ever. I recalled how much I had despised that classic and had to know how Mr. Written had managed to convince his charges that they were reading a spectacular saga. I found out that he had brought each of the characters alive in ways that made them seem modern and timeless. He did exactly the same thing with The Canterbury Tales another of those English class standards that I had only managed to slog through but Dickie had convinced his students to love. It seemed to me that Dickie Written was a kind of Pied Piper of English.

One of the aspects of Dickie’s teaching that I most admired was his insistence on teaching his students the rules of grammar and usage. In recent years directly teaching such things has been frowned upon in some circles. As someone who concentrated on Linguistics with my major, I had a difficult time understanding why this trend was so popular. I knew from my days with Father Shane that I understood the English language right down to its very foundations because of the daily grammar practice and diagramming. As a result of those exercises I became a better writer and communicator. The more current idea was that students should learn all of those rules tangentially. The prevailing belief was that going through boring drills and practice only stifles student creativity. Dickie Written disagreed and took the time to explain to his classes the correct ways of aligning words and building sentences. I really liked that about him and applauded his rebelliousness. I saw him as a visionary and so did his students, mostly for whom English was a second language.

Eventually I left KIPP Houston High School and so did Dickie Written. By happenstance I learned that an English teaching position was opening up at Cristo Rey Jesuit College Preparatory School where I was tutoring students in math. I contacted Dickie and he in turn applied for the job. He was an instant hit with everyone at the school. I developed a kind of fame by association when I  let it be known that he and I were friends. His students would speak of being a bit intimidated by him, for he is a remarkable disciplinarian, but they also loved him and his class. I could tell that he was using his exciting methods once again and I felt a certain magic in knowing that he was now in the same building where Father Shane had once transformed English class into an enjoyable journey for me and countless others.

Recently I met up with Dickie Written along with a number of friends from my days at KIPP Houston High School. I had not spoken with him in quite a while but I could tell as soon as he arrived that he was happy. He quickly announced that he had very good news. He told us with a huge smile that he had been honored by Cristo Rey with the President’s award for outstanding leadership in education. It didn’t surprise me at all. In fact, I have often wondered why it has taken so long for the powers that be to realize the genius of Dickie Written that his students and I have always known was there. It is about time that he be honored for his brilliance.

Dickie will also be spending time in Chicago this summer writing curriculum for the nationwide Cristo Rey network. Hopefully students in other locales will now enjoy his methods and ideas but the reality is that Dickie Written is one of a kind, not to be reproduced. He, like Father Shane, has a charisma and a love for English that transcends the ordinary. For now it appears that the students at Cristo Rey will be the lucky recipients of his amazing teaching skills.

It does my heart good to know that a new generation of students is being delighted by a very special teacher. Just as Father Shane so inspired me fifty years ago I imagine that Dickie Written is reaching the hearts and minds of his students today.

Father Shane died many years ago but his reputation and spirit live on. I actually felt it when I entered his old classroom when I first began tutoring at Cristo Rey. I suspect that Dickie Written will be legendary as well. Long after he is gone there will be adults who will think back to moments in his class with the same joy and a sense of nostalgia that I have for Father Shane. I have to congratulate Dickie for holding fast to his beliefs and for loving his work as much as he so obviously does. He is one of the best in the business and I was lucky enough to be able watch him demonstrate his amazing gift .   

Beloved of God

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

ali1My early years at the University of Houston were marked by a highly charged political atmosphere. I was there during the height of the Vietnam War when young men the same age as I was had to register for the draft. Attending college gave them a temporary deferment as long as they were full time students, and made passing grades that allowed them to continue to progress toward a degree within a reasonable timeline. Back then the intensity and stress normally associated with the college experience was exacerbated by the threat of losing that deferment and being called to serve in the army. For many avoiding the draft was simply a matter of not wanting to be forced to serve. For others it was a matter of principle, namely that they did not want to participate in a war that they thought to be unwarranted and unjust. Others were strict pacifists who would not have wanted to fight under any circumstances.

The university was the site of protests and political speakers on a regular basis and for those of us who were against the war there was ample opportunity to meet with like-minded individuals to voice our concerns. I had analyzed the situation and found little reason for the United States to be involved in the conflict unfolding in Vietnam. It had begun as a civil war between opposing political factions and ideologies and the United States had originally only intended to provide support to the democratic government of the south. By 1968, however, our nation had become hopelessly mired in the fighting with our youth being sent a world away to a war whose purpose few really understood. By the time that I was a college student the country was hopelessly divided over the issue of whether or not we should be sending troops to Vietnam. The divisions would ultimately destroy the reputation of President Lyndon B. Johnson and show its ugliest side in riots at the 1968 Democrat convention in Chicago. 

While my concerns about the political atmosphere of our country often outweighed my interest in my studies, I was only peripherally involved in the student efforts to voice our point of view. I knew many of the key players in the anti-war movement at school but mostly just attended meetings and went to hear speakers who came to our campus. I was particularly excited when I learned that members of the student government had secured a visit from Muhammed Ali and that he would speak at an informal gathering inside the Cougar Den. I knew that I had to be there.

Back then the Cougar Den was little more than a wooden shack nestled under a grove of trees to the left of the Ezekiel Cullen building. It was a dark, noisy, smoke-filled and always crowded room under the best of circumstances. On the day of Muhammad Ali’s visit it was a madhouse as students eagerly jammed inside hoping to get a glance of the greatest boxer in history. When a good friend and I arrived we realized that we would be lucky if we were even able to hear him speak much less actually see him. Fortunately fate intervened on our behalf. My friend was an incredibly beautiful and popular coed and as we were jockeying for a decent place to stand we encountered an officer of the Young Republican Club who had a huge crush on her. He offered to take us both upstairs to the organization’s headquarters where we might stand along the railing and watch the proceedings from a bird’s eye view. We eagerly followed him and the location proved to be perfect.

When Muhammad Ali entered the room a respectful hush fell over all of us. The mere sight of him was mesmerizing. Here was a man who had risked everything by refusing to be inducted into the army. With the famous words, “I got nothing against no Viet Cong” he had refused to step forward when his name was called to be drafted. His actions had resulted in the loss of his boxing title and the inability to fight in many places. He was threatened with five years in prison and had to pay a stiff fine. He would be involved in an appeal for the next many years, citing his Muslim religion as the reason for his pacifism. For some he was seen as a traitor but to those of us who believed that the war was wrong, he was a hero of the highest stature. On the day that I heard him speak he appeared to be godlike and was truly the greatest in my mind.

Muhammad Ali’s appeal would go all the way to the Supreme Court where his conviction would eventually be overturned. He was cleared to resume his boxing career and he went on to have a legendary career that is spoken of with reverence to this very day. His presence, his confidence and his style was unlike anything that the public had ever before seen. Even his detractors had to admit that he was an incredible man. 

I was never a fan of boxing so I can’t say that I followed Muhammad Ali’s career very closely. I had uncles who loved to watch the matches that were broadcast on television but I was never interested. One of those uncles had gone to see George Foreman train here in Houston. I remember his unmitigated excitement when Foreman was slated to fight Ali in Manilla. He was convinced that it would be one of the best contests ever and it indeed became one of those sporting moments that boxing fans would never forget. In the searing heat Muhammad Ali pushed George Foreman to a state of exhaustion and then knocked the giant off of his feet to secure a victory that stunned the world.

I suppose that what I admired most about Muhammad Ali was his integrity. He was a man who lived the principles that were the foundation of his beliefs. He was unafraid to speak even when the truth was difficult. He was a warrior for social justice and a peaceful man. When Parkinson’s disease began to ravage his body he demonstrated courage and grace. I’ll never forget the moment when he carried the torch to light the Olympic flame at the games in Utah. He was already frail but he bravely ran up the ramp as though he were holding the light of the world for all of us. He was as beautiful as he had been when I saw him as a young lion those many years ago.

Muhammad Ali became an example and spokesman for those of us who are nameless. He never varied from his determination to make the world a more tolerant and peaceful place. From his days as Cassius Clay in Louisville, Kentucky to his most triumphant moments the public knew that he was indeed a remarkable man. At a time when a black man dared not speak out lest he be punished, Muhammad Ali refused to still his voice. He held his head high and reminded us that he was beautiful and great. He would proudly boast, “I am Muhammad Ali, a free name – it means beloved of God, and I insist people use it when people speak to me.”

Muhammad Ali was beloved, not just by God but by people the world over. He taught us the importance of faith, family and conviction. Now he may rest in peace. His battered body will hurt him no more. He is with God and moving like a butterfly in his heavenly home.

Go Forth in Remembrance

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

k10304515Memorial Day on the last day in May has come to represent the beginning of summer even though the laws of astronomy give that designation to a different date. It is a three day weekend holiday designated by Congress. There are few better times to buy mattresses or large home appliances. People flock to the beach on this day and gather around swimming pools and barbecue pits. American flags fly from the porches of homes all across the land. For many the true intent of Memorial Day has become lost in a haze of celebration having little to do with what this national holiday was originally intended to be.

The Civil War left our nation broken and bereft. Over 600,000 Americans had lost their lives in the conflict. People in both the north and the south attempted to heal their wounds and sorrows with annual tributes to those who had fallen in battle. The homage sometimes included parades but the main focus was to be found at the grave sites of the soldiers who had been killed in those terrible battles. Family, friends, and sometimes even sympathetic strangers would bring flowers to the cemeteries. Some even carried food for picnics and held solemn vigils. These were days of remembrance and honor that went by different names and occurred in different times and places.

Three years after the conclusion of the Civil War an organization of Union soldiers, the Grand Army of the Republic, established Decoration Day to be held on May 30 to honor those who had died in the Civil War. It is believed that this date was chosen because it coincided with a season when there is always an abundance of flowers. After World War I President Woodrow Wilson declared that the day be forevermore known as Memorial Day and that it be a time of remembrance for all soldiers who have died in the service of our country. It was not until the nineteen sixties that Memorial Day was set to occur on the last Monday of May to create a three day weekend associated with the national holiday.

Over a million members of the military have died while engaged in active duty. It is a staggering number and yet the vast majority of Americans today have little or no experience with losing a loved one or a friend in a war. Talk with individuals in their sixties, seventies, eighties and nineties, however, and there will be more and more eyewitness stories of young soldiers lost in World War I, World War II, the Korean War and the War in Vietnam. While those conflicts seem to be almost ancient history now, for those who saw the blood being spilled, the memories are as vivid as the actual events.

I have watched my father-in-law cry when reluctantly relating stories of fallen comrades in the Korean War. I have friends who speak of relatives who came back home dramatically changed from the War in Vietnam. They tell of husbands and fathers who still have nightmares because of what they saw. My mother’s eyes used to fill with tears as she told of school chums who never returned from battlefields across Europe and the Pacific. I have run my fingers across the names of school buddies whose bravery is forever proclaimed on the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C. My great grandfather did not die in the Civil War but he was charged with burying the dead after the Battle of Shiloh and official documents tell of the horrific nature of his duties.

Today our armies are staffed with volunteers many of whom continue to die in faraway places for a cause that we all too often don’t really understand. These young men and women are our first line of defense in an uncertain and often frightening world. Somehow they find the courage to carry out missions that most of us would be too frightened to do. When they die their families and friends suffer great loss. Many times those of us busy with our own lives are all too unaware of the great sacrifices that they have made.

War is hell and always has been. It would be so wonderful if we humans somehow managed to resolve our differences in peaceful diplomatic ways. For whatever reason, even our best efforts to avoid conflict are challenged again and again. We may want to isolate ourselves from the necessity to spill blood but history has shown us that we are sometimes given no other choice than to defend ourselves and lose our human treasure in the process.

I used to naively believe that one day mankind would evolve to a point at which the killing would forever stop. A lifetime of observing human nature has convinced me that there will always be some form of evil in the world and that sometimes we have to cut off the head of the serpent to save the innocent. Thank God for those with the courage and the willingness to do what must be done, even understanding that their efforts may result in death.

We must never forget the brave souls who gave their lives so that we might retain our freedoms. We may not know their names or be related to them in any significant way but we have benefited from their acts of courage nonetheless. There is no greater love than a man or woman laying down his/her life for another. It is incumbent on us to spend some time today reflecting on such sacrifices.

If you have children don’t fail to talk with them about why we have this holiday. Far too many of our youth are sadly ignorant of the real reason for our celebrations. It is up to us to teach them to remember and honor those who gave so much in the long arc of history. Simple gestures can be powerful reminders. Our children understand symbols and they like to hear stories.

My son-in-law and my grandchildren awoke early this morning to place American flags throughout their neighborhood. It is a ritual that they have repeated for many years now. I am proud of them for doing this in memory of our fallen heroes. It displays a special reverence that we as a nation are sometimes in jeopardy of losing. We must not equate respect for the dead with unbridled nationalism. It is the duty of present and future generations to never forget the true cost of war. Every life that is lost represents dreams that will never come true. If we honor those who gave everything, they will not have died in vain.

I have read that in our nation’s capitol the flag is raised on this day in the early morning and then lowered to half staff to remember all of the soldiers who have died for this country. At noon the flag is raised again to represent the glory of our nation that has resulted from their courageous deeds. I encourage you to both remember and celebrate. Go forth and enjoy the fruits of the sacrifices made for all of us.

Mighty Women Part II

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

One of the goals of KIPP Houston High School, where I spent my last years as an educator, was to assist students in the journey to and through college. We developed an iron-clad three pronged relationship between our students, their parents and all of us who worked in the KIPP world. That connection continued even after our pupils had graduated. The idea was to offer our support so that the young men and women might be able to navigate through the many ups and downs of life and still earn college diplomas. I always felt that the most powerful aspects of the triumvirate were actually the students themselves and their families. We teachers, counselors and administrators were mostly a safety net and source of information, facilitators if you will. It was the grit inside the hearts of our kids and the love that they experienced from their parents that has made them so enormously successful. This past weekend I witnessed the power of my former students over and over again.

Christine Marsh was a standout in my Algebra I class, someone that I noticed on the very first day. She is beautiful, intelligent, friendly and loving. She is the kind of student whom teachers love, the golden girl with all of the characteristics of a truly gifted and talented individual. Somehow she has managed to also be humble and thus she has always been quite popular with everyone. As she progressed through the four years of high school her aura of greatness only increased and everyone who knows her suspects that she is destined for great things.

Christine started her college career at the University of Texas and it did not go as well as she had hoped. Somehow it was not a good fit for her and so she came back home feeling a bit defeated. She went to work and reflected on how to make a comeback. It was a bit rough in the beginning but Christine is made of hardy stuff and she began the process of going to college anew at the University of Houston, applying the full force of her determination and intellect to both her job and her studies. As Christine likes to joke, she took “the six year scenic route,” which was often grueling and tested her endurance to the max.

This past Friday Christine Marsh walked across the University of Houston stage and proudly accepted the diploma that speaks of her triumph. She promises to continue to work hard and be nice, never forgetting the KIPP mantra that helped her to reach her goal.

Cindy Lugo-Jaimez, another KIPP alumna, always seems to be a friend to everyone. She has a generous heart and an unflagging willingness to help anyone in need. Her kindnesses haven’t always been returned, but Cindy just smiles and continues to be the sweet person that she is, regardless. In the spirit of giving, she enrolled in the College of Healthcare Professions and somehow managed to give her all to her family while earning high marks and consistently landing on the Dean’s List. 

Cindy proudly continued to dote on her three beautiful children, which is a full time job for anyone, but proved that she is truly a super woman when she earned a diploma that seems perfect for her giving personality. She is now officially certified to be a medical assistant. She has become an awesome role model for her kids and for all of us who have watched her persistence. She will without a doubt be incredible in her new job.

Brooklyn Taylor was what some educators might call a challenge. She went through high school with a bang, ever vigilant for signs of  unfairness. She possesses a brilliant mind that is as strong as a steel trap. If we had offered debate at our school she might have been a champion. As it is, she always speaks up whenever she feels that anyone has been wronged. Her logic and her arguments are flawless and her fellow students admire her for her courage.

While in high school Brooklyn served as the Vice President of the National Honor Society and introduced her classmates to the world of autism by raising awareness and funds for a program that channeled the unexplained mysteries of autistic children into skateboarding. Brooklyn’s concern for those with special needs goes far beyond a cursory interest and she has continued to spend her summers serving as a camp counselor and devoted advocate for them.

At our school, Brooklyn had a following among certain members of the faculty who saw a uniqueness in her inquisitive nature. I was not alone in admiring her. She developed a strong bond with one of her social studies teachers who had attended William and Mary University as an undergraduate. He saw greatness in Brooklyn and encouraged her to apply to his alma mater. We were all quite happy for her when an acceptance letter arrived. Now, she is officially a graduate of William and Mary and the rest of her days are bound to be as exciting as they have been thus far.

When Linda Ayala was at KIPP Houston High School she was a founding member of the UNICEF club. She donated countless hours of her time to raise funds for various causes, including providing help for those devastated by the earthquakes in Haiti. She is an unassuming young lady who worked hard at her studies and helped without a great deal fanfare or hesitation. I remember her mostly for her sweet and sincere smile and her willingness to do any job that I gave her.

In my last days before retirement there was still a great deal of money in the UNICEF account and the officers of the club voted to distribute the funds before I left. After giving to the American Red Cross and several local charities, the officers felt that it would be nice to provide a small scholarship to a deserving member of the organization. Linda was their overwhelming choice and she used their gift well. This weekend she graduated from Syracuse University and is now ready to put her many talents to the test.

Gabrielle Martin caught my eye way back in high school. She bears herself with the kind of unassuming dignity that befits a woman of distinction. She had been looking forward to her graduation with great expectation but the realities of the world intruded on her celebration. Sadly her mother ended a battle with cancer only days before the commencement exercises. Gabrielle graduated from the University of Houston with a degree in Public Health on Friday and buried her mother on Saturday. It was a bittersweet moment for her because it had been her mother who had always inspired her to be her very best. It seemed unimaginably horrific for such a thing to happen and my heart has been grieving for Gabrielle unremittingly. 

In many ways, Gabrielle is the mightiest of all of the outstanding women whose stories I have told. She has demonstrated the depth of her strength in a situation that would have broken most of us. I am certain that her mother’s bright spirit lives on inside of her. I pray that one day her broken heart will heal and she will know that her mom is indeed an angel guiding and protecting her forever. 

Gabrielle is truly my hero.

I am so proud of each and everyone of these young women. As long as they grace our world we are all just a bit better. Let their adventures commence. They will be fascinating.

Mighty Women Part I

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

There was a time when little girls were the high achievers in elementary school but as they progressed through middle school and high school they were eventually overtaken by the boys. That trend has slowly and dramatically changed over time. Today there are more young women enrolled in universities than men and to their credit more of them actually earn degrees than their male counterparts. I witnessed a microcosm of that effect this past weekend as so many of the young ladies with whom I had formerly worked graduated from universities all across the country. I was overwhelmed with the deepest pride and respect for them because I know that their hard labors began long ago.

Sara Reyna was one of my Algebra students. She was a quiet and somewhat shy young lady caught in the midst of my most rowdy class. She was not prone to their pranks and purposeful distractions but was far more studious and determined. Over the course of four years Sara and I shared many conversations in which I learned much about her courage and grit. She wisely chose to befriend an outstanding group of like-minded young women and together all of them became some of my all time favorite people and great success stories.

Sara always reminded me so much of myself. She stayed in Houston to attend college while her friends went away. She worked while going to school and was somewhat uncertain as to what she ultimately wanted to do with her life. It took her time and much soul searching to finally realize that she wanted to be a teacher. I knew that she would be incredible in that capacity and hoped that she would one day join the ranks of those of us whose profession is dedicated to passing the torch of knowledge from one generation to the next.

Sara somehow managed to work and handle eighteen hour course loads in her quest for a degree. On Friday her dreams came true as she walked across the stage at the University of Houston to receive her diploma in Education. She had won yet another hard fought battle and I am giddy with happiness for her and her family because I know how important this moment is. I also believe that when the school bells ring in the fall there will be some very lucky students assigned to Ms. Reyna’s class. Knowing that Sara will be in charge gives me nothing but great hope for the future of our boys and girls.

Sara shared her joy with yet another of my Algebra students, Meliza Aranda. Meliza was also a rather quiet student who was lucky enough to be in a class with more serious and focused individuals. She and I never spoke much but I noted that she was always polite, prepared and studious. I had lost track of her after graduation from high school, so it was with great delight that I realized that she had attended my alma mater, the University of Houston and that she had also chosen to major in Education. Like Sara, Meliza graduated this past Friday.

I spent many years interviewing prospective teachers and I now have a knack for determining how well a person will do inside a classroom. I predict that Meliza will be a masterful teacher. The students and parents will have a treasure in her. I’m blissfully happy to know that she is now part of the educational sisterhood.

Meanwhile at Texas Tech University, Julie Dominguez claimed her Masters degree in Biomedical Sciences. She is from the same Class of 2010 as Sara and earned her first degree two years ago. Julie is a happy person who always seems to beam with an inviting smile. She loves people, sports and her family. Sadly she has seen more tragedy than most. Only weeks before her graduation her beloved cousin was murdered as he attempted to come to the aid of a woman who was being attacked. It was with a profound sadness that she somehow found the fortitude to finish the work for her graduate degree. Now she plans to move forward with great purpose so that she might honor her family.

Julie is a brilliant young woman who has a way with people and with words. She recently posted her thoughts on Facebook and inspired all of us with her bravery and her faith. “Thank you God, you have a purpose for us all,” she began. “Even though I don’t know where life will take me, I know you will lead me to my purpose…A special thanks to my angels who are always taking care of me from above. This triumph is dedicated to all of y’all that make me a better person.”

I suspect that this is only a first step for Julie. She is a woman on a mission and she will not stop until she is positioned to make this world a healthier and happier place for all of us. I am certain that she will bring the change that she wishes to see in a world that has not always been kind to her and her family. Somehow Julie Dominguez remains a shining light of optimism for all of us.

Marissa Garza, another Class of 2010 KIPP alumna, has always kept her eye on the prize. As a student at KIPP Houston High School she demonstrated a maturity and intellect a step above her peers. She is a wise and loyal person who instills confidence. People seem to seek her out as a comforting presence. Somehow it seems only fitting that she graduated this weekend with a degree in nursing, an occupation that fits so perfectly with all of her nurturing qualities.

Earning her diploma has been a stressful battle with difficult coursework and hours long rotations in the hospital that might have defeated a lesser person. Marissa admits to having shed many tears in her quest to become a nurse but somehow she kept picking herself back up and slowly but surely moved forward. She is eager to take her certification exams and get her license to practice her skills.

Someone somewhere is already going to have a better experience with a health problem because Marissa will be there to help him/her through the process of regaining health. The same loving and encouraging ways that her friends and family have always observed in her will become the foundation upon which she will no doubt build a stunning career.

I am so proud of these four incredible women. Each of them had to overcome challenges to reach goals that seemed so distant back when I first met them. I have watched them change from giddy young teenagers into mighty women of distinction. Their actions and character make KIPP Houston High School and all of us who worked with them there feel incalculably proud. They have truly climbed the mountain of educational success and I suspect that their view from the summit is breathtaking. I know that as I watch them from my vantage point I am in awe.