The Freedom Writers Diary - Erin Gruwell [116]
On June 10, 1997, I received my gift of life, a double lung transplant that I have waited over two years for. I was so happy and excited, but not scared that it might be a failure. I have learned to deal with the fact that I might not make it through the transplant. I knew deep down that it would be a piece of cake and I was right. I did not lose any weight and I actually stood an inch taller. I didn’t look pale anymore; my skin had turned a healthy pink because of the oxygen flowing through my body. I felt great. In October of that same year I returned to school with my doctor’s permission. In April 1998, I received the Most Inspiring Student Award, given to those who have overcome great obstacles and succeeded in life. I also received a $1500 scholarship for college. I was proud of myself for not giving up and proving everyone wrong.
Once I finish telling you this, I plan on trying on my cap and gown and pretending I am walking down the aisle like I will be tomorrow. Yeeessssss!!!!
Diary 142
Dear Diary,
If four years ago someone would have told me that Ms. G was going to last more than a month, I would have laughed straight in their face. She wasn’t supposed to make it; we weren’t supposed to make it. But look at us now, the sure-to-drop-out kids are sure to reach higher education. No one would have thought of the “bad-asses” as high school graduates—as any kind of graduates. Yet, in four years we will be college graduates. Our names will be on the alumni lists of Columbia, Princeton, Stanford, and even Harvard.
Who would have thought of the “at risk” kids making it this far? But we did, even though the educational system desperately tried to hold us down. By labeling us at an early age, they were almost able to affect our school record for life. It wasn’t until someone realized that “tracking” is wrong that the stereotyped “at risk” urban high school kids were given their chance. These urban kids, however, were never truly given the chance to prove that if only given the opportunity, we could rise to the occasion; and rise to the occasion we have.
Four years ago, it would have been unimaginable for us, a group of diverse kids, to work together in class discussions, and today, we learn together, we laugh together, we cry together, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. We managed to make it past all the superficial labels like “at risk,” or “below average”; even the ones that were put on Ms. Gruwell, like “too young and too white.” Not only did we make it past all these small obstacles, but also through a wide range of triumphs and tragedies.
I remember back in our freshman year, people still didn’t understand the importance of a pen instead of a gun. They were always either getting shot or jumped, sometimes they were even the jumper. We’ve come a long way since our days of race riots and Proposition 187 walkouts, though. I look back and I can’t believe the way we used to be with Ms. G. We used to do anything and everything to try to break her, and just when we thought she was broken, she would prove us wrong.
Then came sophomore year, and everything started to become a little more focused, all the blurry faces became a little clearer, and we all got a little closer. East Siders, Bloods, and Crips turned into Oskar Schindlers. Then came what we still view as our salvation, the “Toast for Change.” We took fake champagne and plastic cups, and toasted to a clean slate, a second chance. A second chance to prove everyone’s assumptions wrong and a second chance to prove to ourselves that we could make it.
Our junior year was when we truly started to discredit all of the stereotypes. We decided to make a promise to ourselves that education and tolerance were going to be first. We tore into books that were designated for advanced placement classes. Holden’s thoughts in The Catcher in the Rye were becoming clearer as we were going through the same things in our own lives, and Celie’s pain in The Color Purple became very familiar. The most important thing that happened that