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4/18/2000 complete Summer ZOOO
- 8till looking for publisher
PHOTOCOPY
PRESERVATION
08-19-99 07:16AM FROM JIM&DIANE BLAIR
TO 12024566244
P002
Introduction
When Ralph Nesson first approached me about becoming the founding Board President of
the Arkansas Single Parent Scholarship Program, I had to think hard about the wisdom of taking
on any additional responsibilities. At the time, in 1989, I was First Lady of Arkansas, had a busy
private law practice, was rearing a young child, and already had extensive community
commitments. However, the more I thought about the daily desperation in the lives of so many
other young parents, and the more convinced I became of the enormous potential this program
had for dealing with that desperation in a practical, productive, and lasting way, the more I knew I
had to try.
Ten years later, now that over 4,000 scholarships have been awarded through this
program to single parents whose lives have been transformed permanently for the better, I'm very
grateful I was given an opportunity to help bring this program to life. I hope this book will
inform and inspire many others, who will then replicate the program in their own states and
communities.
The goal of the Single Parent Scholarship Fund is to assist poor single parents to complete
the higher education which is indispensable for skilled employment and family economic security
in today's world. Even the most ambitious and determined of single parents often finds herself or
himself struggling against an array of discouraging factors: the high cost of tuition and books; the
scarcity and expense of good day care; the absence of extended family or friends to provide
backup day care and emotional support; the lack of reliable transportation; the lack of information
about available scholarships and other assistance. No wonder so many become discouraged, and
the downhill spiral begins.
The Single Parent Scholarship Program begins by directing recipients toward every form
of tuition and scholarship assistance available for post-secondary education. It provides guidance
toward all public and private assistance, everything from housing to health care, for which
recipients and their children may be eligible. Recipients are offered mentoring by knowledgeable
and responsible adults in their communities. And then the scholarship itself it awarded, usually
$500 per semester for those who are making good progress toward graduation. That amount may
seem negligible to some, but in fact it often provides the indispensable margin between success
and failure.
08-19-99 07:16AM FROM JIM&DIANE BLAIR
TO 12024566244
P003
The uses of that money are as varied as the lives of the individuals involved - everything
from child care to car repairs, school shoes to utility bills. One woman memorably recounted for
me how she had been unable, prior to the Single Parent Scholarship, to take certain courses
necessary for her degree because of the laboratory fees involved and the cost of a lab coat,
essential expenses simply not covered by her tuition assistance. Another woman was able to
purchase automobile insurance, another bought two new tires for her car, without which these
women were literally immobilized. It is the flexibility in the use of the money that makes it so
valuable to scholarship recipients, not only for its monetary worth but for its symbolic meaning.
Many scholarship recipients tell us that simply knowing that others had enough confidence in
them to invest in their lives and trust their judgment was a powerful and uplifting agent for
change.
Scholarship recipients have told me that often the biggest beneficiaries of the scholarship
are their children who, watching their moms taking their schooling so seriously, become much
better students themselves. One woman related that she was on the verge of dropping out of
college, worried that the sacrifices she was asking of her children were just too weighty; but her
son's schoolteacher told her, "Don't you dare drop out. Not a day goes by that your son doesn't
brag to his classmates that his Mom's going to be an engineer."
The stories of degrees earned, good jobs obtained, children's lives immeasurably improved
are an endless source of gratification to the volunteers and contributors who have brought this
program to maturity all across Arkansas. However, the evidence of this program's success is
much more than anecdotal. At this writing, 48 counties are represented by Arkansas Single
Parent Scholarship Fund affiliates; and an extensive follow-up survey conducted in 1997 indicated
that 69% of scholarship recipients had either graduated or were currently enrolled; and 92% of
graduates were employed at higher than poverty-level wages.
And what better evidence of this program's effectiveness could there be than the fact that
the author of this volume, Lori Holyfield, herself one of the program's first scholarship recipients,
used the funds to earn a degree from the University of Arkansas, went on to secure a Ph.D., and
is now a member of the University of Arkansas faculty? I know Lori shares my hopes that the
information provided in her book will be used by many others, to establish Single Parent
Scholarship Funds in their own communities.
08-19-99 07:16AM FROM JIM&DIANE BLAIR
TO 12024566244
P004
There is no reason that this wonderful idea can't work in places beyond Arkansas. Local
businesses, foundations, churches, civic organizations, and private citizens can join together to
form their own scholarship funds and their own committees, designed to help single parents in
their communities lift themselves and their families out of poverty on a permanent basis. The
investment is minimal. But the rewards for the recipient, their communities, and all those who
become involved, are rich indeed.
Hillary Rodham Clinton
(501)521-7981
Lon Matyfield PhDD
UNIVERSITYARKANSAS
1871
Fulbright College of Arts and Sciences
211 Old Main
Department of Sociology,
Fayetteville, Arkansas 72701
Social Work. and
(501) 521-3205
Criminal Justice
Fax: (501) 7981
575
575
3206
May 3, 1999
Mrs. Hillary Rodham Clinton
Office of the First Lady
White House
Washington, DC
Dear Mrs. Clinton,
Allow mc to introduce myself. I am Lori Holyfield. I currently teach sociology at the University of
Arkansas, Fayetteville campus. I am working with Ralph Nesson to produce a book which
documents the Arkansas Single-Parent Scholarship Fund and its tremendous efforts in assisting
single parents to achieve self-sufficiency through education. Ralph has shared with me your most
generous offer to write the introduction to my book. Please forgive my delayed response. Over the
past weeks, I have had numerous conversations with you in my mind but I became overwhelmed each
time I sat down to write to you. When I received the news from Ralph, I called my daughter
immediately and we shared tears of joy over the phone. Mrs. Clinton, there are no words to express
the depth of my gratitude for you kind offer. Your advocacy for families and children have been a
model for the entire nation and your tireless efforts to help change perceptions of single parents has
impacted more lives than you know. I can think of no greater honor than what your offer entails. It
has taken weeks for my feet to touch the ground.
I want to share with you a little about the structure of the book. I have enclosed a draft of the preface
to the book in order to give you a sense of the style in which I am writing. A chapter of introduction,
detailing your role in founding the ASPSF and its history, will lend great credibility to this project.
Ralph has explained that he can help provide the historical details and will assist you in any way. In
addition, if I can be of help, please do not hesitate to call upon me. The voices of the women in this
book will tell of their struggles, their dreams of self-sufficiency, and most of all, their successes!
While my intention is to apply a systematic sociological investigation to the transition from poverty
to self-sufficiency through education, my objective is to also highlight the actual lived experiences of
the families we speak to throughout Arkansas, weaving into their stories, the sociological backdrop
of the structural conditions in which they live. Besides the fact that this work is a labor of love, I
am both confident and hopeful that the completed book will reach a broad audience of legislators,
policy makers, service providers, and academics.
The University of Arkansas IS an equal opportunity/affirmative action institution.
1 am currently speaking with several publishers to find an appropriate outlet for the book. With your
introduction, the preface, and one more sample chapter, I am confident I can secure a quality press
for the work. My goal is to meet with representatives in August at the American Sociological
Association meetings in Chicago. Ideally, it would help the process along if I am able to send a
sample packet prior to August 1, 1999. Thus, if it would be possible for you to have a draft of the
introduction chapter by mid-to-late July, it would be an immense boost to this process. I do realize
your busy schedule, however, and will understand if this time-line is not reasonable, given your other
commitments and demands.
Again, I cannot thank you enough for you kind offer. It means more to me than I can ever express.
Gratefully yours,
Lori Holyfield, Ph.D.
Introduction
When Ralph Nesson first approached me about becoming the founding Board President of
the Arkansas Single Parent Scholarship Program, I had to think hard about the wisdom of taking
on any additional responsibilities. At the time, in 1989, I was First Lady of Arkansas, had a busy
private law practice, was rearing a young child, and already had extensive community
commitments. However, the more I thought about the daily desperation in the lives of so many
other young parents, and the more convinced I became of the enormous potential this program
had for dealing with that desperation in a practical, productive, and lasting way, the more I knew I
had to try.
Ten years later, now that over 4,000 scholarships have been awarded through this
program to single parents whose lives have been transformed permanently for the better, I'm very
1 hope
grateful I was given an opportunity to help bring this program to life. Hopefully, this book will
inform and inspire many others, who will then replicate the program in their own states and
communities.
The goal of the Single Parent Scholarship Fund is to assist poor single parents to complete
the higher education which is indispensable for skilled employment and family economic security
in today's world. Even the most ambitious and determined of single parents often finds herself or
himself struggling against an array of discouraging factors: the high cost of tuition and books; the
scarcity and expense of good day care; the absence of extended family or friends to provide
backup day care and emotional support; the lack of reliable transportation; the lack of information
about available scholarships and other assistance. No wonder so many become discouraged, and
the downhill spiral begins.
The Single Parent Scholarship Program begins by directing recipients toward every form
of tuition and scholarship assistance available for post-secondary education. It provides guidance
toward all public and private assistance, everything from housing to health care, for which
recipients and their children may be eligible. Recipients are offered mentoring by knowledgeable
and responsible adults in their communities. And then the scholarship itself it awarded, usually
$500 per semester for those who are making good progress toward graduation. That amount may
seem negligible to some, but in fact it often provides the indispensable margin between success
and failure.
The uses of that money are as varied as the lives of the individuals involved - everything
from child care to car repairs, school shoes to utility bills. One woman memorably recounted for
to take
me how she had been unable, prior to the Single Parent Scholarship, of taking certain courses
necessary to her degree because of the laboratory fees involved and the cost of a lab coat,
essential expenses simply not covered by her tuition assistance. Another woman was able to
purchase automobile insurance, another bought two new tires for her car, without which these
women were literally immobilized. It is the flexibility in the use of the money that makes it so
valuable to scholarship recipients, not only for its monetary worth but for its symbolic meaning.
Many scholarship recipients tell us that simply knowing that others had enough confidence in
them to invest in their lives and trust their judgment was a powerful and uplifting agent for
change.
Scholarship recipients have told me that often the biggest beneficiaries of the scholarship
are their children who, watching their moms taking their schooling so seriously, become much
better students themselves. One woman related that she was on the verge of dropping out of
college, worried that the sacrifices she was asking of her children were just too weighty; but her
son's schoolteacher told her, "Don't you dare drop out. Not a day goes by that your son doesn't
brag to his classmates that his Mom's going to be an engineer."
The stories of degrees earned, good jobs obtained, children's lives immeasurably improved
are an endless source of gratification to the volunteers and contributors who have brought this
program to maturity all across Arkansas. However, the evidence of this program's success is
much more than anecdotal. At this writing, 48 counties are represented by Arkansas Single
Parent Scholarship Fund affiliates; and an extensive follow-up survey conducted in 1997 indicated
that 69% of scholarship recipients had either graduated or were currently enrolled; and 92% of
graduates were employed at higher than poverty-level wages.
And what better evidence of this program's effectiveness could there be than the fact that
the author of this volume, Lori Holyfield, was herself one of the program's first scholarship
recipients, used the funds to earn a degree from the University of Arkansas, went on to secure a
Ph.D., and is now a member of the University of Arkansas faculty? I know Lori shares my hopes
that the information provided in her book will be used by many others, to establish Single Parent
Scholarship Fund in their own communities.
There is no reason that this wonderful idea can't work in places beyond Arkansas. Local
businesses, foundations, churches, civic organizations, and private citizens can join together to
form their own scholarship funds and their own committees, designed to help single parents in
their communities lift themselves and their families out of poverty on a permanent basis. The
investment is minimal. But the rewards for the recipient, their communities, and all those who
become involved, are rich indeed.
Hillary Rodham Clinton
1
Preface
The story I am about to share with you does not come freely, I admit. In
the process of writing this book, I was encouraged by colleagues and friends to
write of my own journey out of poverty. I resisted at all points. "I am a
sociologist," I proudly exclaimed. "Nobody wants to read my narcissistic tale. It
wouldn't be research!" "But you can't leave it out," my co-workers replied.
"You're an 'insider' and your experiences have shaped your voice in this
research." 1 would nod, agreeably, and then go on to explain that my goal was to
remain as objective as I could and that it might be distracting for the readers of the
book if they thought I was too "close" to my subject. Typically, the response was,
"Oh, 1 see." I was not very convincing.
Over several months of struggling with what came to be a moral
dilemma, I realized my resistance had little to do with my philosophy of research.
I was simply trying to avoid the pain of sharing my personal story. I was willing
to tell the stories of others. That was different, I rationalized. I could provide
them confidentiality, something I wouldn't be able to obtain. Being poor, after
all, carries with it an enormous social stigma. I wanted to avoid this at all costs.
My motivation was unconscious at first. It would simply be more comfortable to
keep my own voice silent, so much easier to forget, and as I would come to
acknowledge, even easier to deny. The change in my decision came one night
during a conversation with a single-parent scholarship recipient. We were at a
party for a mutual friend. We talked at length about the project and she agreed to
be interviewed for the upcoming book. "I'll do it," she agreed. "At least you
know where I'm coming from." Our friend interjected, "Are you going to tell
about yourself?" "No," I replied. "I'm just the researcher." "Why not?," the
single-parent asked. She appeared puzzled by my quick response. "You're one of
us, she continued. She was right.
2
Getting By
Megan and I lived on Pettigrew street, one block from the Levi Plant. I
used to joke with the neighbors how I never needed an alarm clock. The workers
at the plant arrived a little before 6:00 a.m. and I always swore they dislodged their
mufflers just before they turned on our street, as if to say, "We're here, we're loud,
get used to it!" We never did. The house was one of those small frame, tract
homes that never smelled clean, no matter how hard I tried. Poverty has its own
musty smell. But my mother had always told me, "To be poor is one thing. To be
dirty and poor is quite another." The best I could achieve was the smell of pine-
sol which only masked it enough to create a different version of intolerable.
The windows of the house were perpetually fogged from the gases
released between the double panes. I'd never lived in a house with double pane
windows so at first it was like Christmas year-round, until a friend explained that
foggy windows meant the insulation was no longer working. I couldn't afford to
replace them and the landlord apparently couldn't either, so one day my daughter
Megan and I cut out paper snow-flakes and taped them to the windows. I told her
we were "accentuating the positive." She liked the idea.
The house had its amusing points. A furnace, the type that stretches from
the floor to the ceiling, was located in the living room, on the wall, between our
bedrooms. Megan and I were sure it was haunted and would explode one day. It
seemed to burst into action every time we walked past. Sometimes we would try
to sneak up on it just to see if we could tip-toe past without being caught. I
imagined it to be a fiery god that demanded reverence. I both feared and respected
it. It was, after all, our first home since the divorce that didn't have wood heat and
it did not require stoking in the middle of the night. Besides, the housing
authority approved the house for rental assistance and the rent was cheap. And
while we didn't own a mower, we did have a yard which was a far cry better than
the alternative; a housing authority apartment. Besides, the house was just large
enough for the two of us and the rent was cheap.
3
It was 1984 and Megan was six years old. Her father and I divorced
when she was two and contact between the two of them was little to none. Her
birthday fell in October, causing her to miss enrollment in the first grade with her
friends. She was too old to enroll in another year of head-start. So, I entered her
in a nursery a few blocks away and paid almost one-third of my paycheck to keep
her there. There may have been assistance for child care but because I was a full-
time worker, I didn't receive AFDC (Aid to Families with Dependent Children).
If I was eligible, I never knew. Besides, I felt humiliated enough every time I paid
the rent or bought groceries with the small amount of food stamps we received. I
dreaded the glances at the check-out stand. I imagined people watching me leave
to see if I really drove a Cadillac. I paid the child care and we held on as best we
could.
I had tried several things to keep us afloat after the divorce. I waited
tables, stocked produce, worked the graveyard shift in a factory, and for extra
cash, played in a rhythm and blues band. For a few years, I cleaned windows for
local grocery stores on the weekends until someone came along with a lower bid.
But by 1982, I had run out of options. Traditional women's work was getting us
nowhere. Thus, I entered the world of construction. Because this was "mans"
work, I was sure it had to pay better than what I was accustomed to and with a
ninth-grade education, was probably the best I could do. I tried my hand at
installing lockers for the athletic building on the campus at a local University,
ironically, the one I teach at today, then went on to work on other projects as a
laborer, meaning, I was a "grunt" worker. My co-workers used to poke fun at
students as they passed by and speak of their "ivory tower" worlds, but I never
did. I so wanted to be one of those students but knew I couldn't get there from
here, or so I thought at the time. When the job was finished, I hired on as a man-
power worker, building bridges. I tied steel. "Rodbusting" is what they called it
but the official title was "iron worker-reinforcer." I was miles away from school
but the images from campus stayed with me.
4
Construction is not easy work and the pay was nowhere near what I had
hoped. Megan and I barely stayed afloat. Sometimes we skimmed the surface,
sometimes we bobbed up and down, and all too often we came up, gasping for air
just before we went under again. We never had a phone in those days. That
would have been a luxury. I paid the bills in a sporadic fashion, the light bill one
month, the gas and water the next. A few years ago I saw an episode of the sit-
com, Roseanne. She was explaining to her husband how she had learned to keep
her utilities on by sending the gas company the check for the light bill and the
light company, the water bill, and so on. I remember laughing and commenting to
my husband, "I thought I was the only one who did that!" But there was little
humor to our real life situation. For Megan and I, poverty and everything that
came with it, was clinching its fist and pounding us in the gut. We seemed glued
to this downward spiral and every exit was blocked. Indeed, it was, but not for
the reasons I thought.
Opportunities were being blocked but I hadn't had a sociology class and
didn't know that there is a direct correlation between education and poverty. I
didn't know that as many as 24% of those without at least a high-school diploma
live in poverty. I didn't know that with a college education, the chances of living
in poverty dropped to a dramatic two percent. I just knew that I was unlucky! I
couldn't appreciate the fact, that without an education, this was truly as good as
it would ever be. All I knew was that I was divorced, willing to work and
struggle for my family, and it simply was not enough. Everything I had been
raised to believe was not holding true. I wasn't lazy. I wasn't holding out for a
prince charming to sweep me off my feet. I wasn't wading out to sea, foolishly
waiting for some ship to come in. I had my oar in the water and I was paddling
hard, fast, and damn it, I couldn't get out of the eddy. It was the little things that
kept us down, a tooth ache, the flu, the measles, a missed day from work, a car
that wouldn't start. I remember telling my dentist once, "You know, it costs a lot
5
to be poor." Preventive health care and wellness programs were not in my
vocabulary. Like 40 million other Americans, health insurance for me, was only a
dream.
Making it by Faking it
My older sister and brother had graduated from high school. They both
encouraged me to take the GED in the winter of 1983. High school diplomas
were certainly valued in my family but neither of my parents had finished high-
school. I had left home at the age of fourteen, had a child at eighteen, and was
divorced by twenty. Thus, their expectations were fairly low for me. After
several months, I followed my siblings' advice, scheduled the exam, called in sick
to work, and took the test. When I received the scores that revealed that I had
passed, and done well, my sister, who by then was working toward a degree in
architectural design, said, "Lori, they have financial aid and student loans. You
could probably qualify for all of it and you'd be as well off as you are now."
"Who me?" "Yeah, right," I responded, with more than a little sarcasm. I
listened to her advice but in the back of my mind I was sure she was wrong.
After all, she was different. She hadn't made the mistakes I'd made. She couldn't
possibly understand. After all, how could someone who dropped out of school
ten years ago, experience anything but failure as a college student. But she
persisted. My sister is known for that. So, with her encouragement, I paid the
admission, applied for financial aid, and enrolled at the University of Arkansas in
the fall of 1984.
College was another world, indeed. My earlier images of college students
left me ill prepared for what I would encounter. Studying did not come easy. I
had not read books as a child and have only vague memories of my mother
reading some fairy tales when I was very young. Most of my childhood, like
millions of children of alcoholics, was spent dodging my father. He was not
physically violent but he drank heavily and there was always the threat of
6
violence. I learned early that I could diffuse the emotional terrorism by making
my father laugh. I carried those survival skills into the first grade. Unfortunately,
I carried them into high school. My aim was never to make good grades. Instead,
I assumed the role of class clown and spent most of my time conjuring images of
better days to come.
As I would quickly learn, reading and comprehension are not the same
animal. Like so many single-parents, study time was relegated to a few hours in
the library between classes and late in the evening after my daughter was asleep.
Remembering what I had read in the textbooks was difficult for me. I could never
decide what was important and what might be on the exam. There were classes
available for returning students but they were stigmatizing and they could not be
taken for credit toward graduation. Besides, I was determined to stream-line my
education by taking only classes that would move me toward a degree. Looking
back, I realize how much more pragmatic it would have been to take a course on
note-taking or time-management but hindsight, after all, is just that.
My first year of college can best be summarized as the "adjustment
zone." Megan was doing well in the first grade and I was trying to convince
myself that I really could be a student. My self-esteem was building but I lived in
constant fear that my professors would find me out, realize I was a fraud, and had
no business being in college. I lacked all the necessary capital for this investment
and sooner or later someone would show me the door. When I received my first
semester grades, I was sure it was a fluke or that they had somehow made a
horrible mistake. Once the shock wore off, I began to believe that I might be able
to make it. I can't describe in words what this meant to me, personally. I can
only say that the lesson I learned from the experience is that sometimes it's best to
try, just try, even if you have to keep one eye closed and the other squinted for
fear of watching yourself fail.
7
It Really Does Take a Village
It would be my second semester before I would meet Ralph Nesson, the
director of the single-parent scholarship fund. He was working in the EOA
building where I had come more than once to seek help with my utility bills. I
can't remember how I found out about the scholarship. I do, however, remember
my meeting with Ralph. My earlier encounters with helping agencies, especially,
human services, child support enforcement, and the housing authority, had left
me more than a little skeptical about the interview. I was sure I would have to go
through a self deprivation process of having to prove my eligibility and confirm
that I was worthy of the "entitlement" about to be bestowed upon me. But, I was
resolved to go through the process if it meant helping me stay in school another
semester. Instead, Ralph greeted me with a warm smile, invited me into his
office, and we sat down to discuss the scholarship application. He asked me
about my daughter and how she was doing. He somehow knew that I was a local
musician and asked about that. He asked me about school and my experiences
there. I answered politely, sure the bottom would drop out at any moment. It
never did. Instead, Ralph told me how proud he was that I took the chance of
returning to school and that he knew that it was a risk. He understood that it was
difficult to make it, even on the student loans and Pell-Grant, and did I know
about the Supplemental Educational Opportunity Grant and other forms of aid
that might help. Almost apologetically, Ralph explained that while they didn't
have a lot of money to give, he could offer me a $250.00 dollar scholarship and
that maybe I could use it to help with child care, or gas, or to fix my car, just
whatever I felt was needed. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There was no
need for deference, no degradation rituals. I didn't need to save face by assuring
him that I would only spend the funds for this purpose or that. He wouldn't need
receipts to prove how I had spent the money. He trusted me to know best.
Looking back, my meeting with Ralph was perhaps, the most
empowering experience I have ever had. Here was someone who recognized my
8
potential and wanted to give me, a high-school dropout, a scholarship! I left his
office feeling proud of myself and my accomplishments. The program was
genuinely interested in helping me make it through college. Fourteen years later,
in a meeting with state legislators, I listened as Ralph described the program
which now assists single-parents statewide with an endowment of over one
million dollars, as a "barn raising" experience, one that allows the community to
give to others. He was right.
The stories you will read in this book are from the voices of single
mothers throughout Arkansas. But the women in this book are similar to women
all across this country, who struggle, hope, and dream of self-sufficiency. These
are.just some of the millions of single-parents who understand that raising
children is no small task, no matter the circumstances. Yet, obtaining the
resources to successfully maneuver under conditions that are already stacked
against one, makes the journey even harder, especially for women.
While only nine percent of two-parent families live below the poverty
line, the percentage for female-headed families is above 46 percent (U.S. Bureau
of the Census, 1995). Community resources are essential in building the scaffold
by which single-parents can climb to heights they otherwise might never imagine.
The only state-wide program of its kind in the nation, the Arkansas Single Parent
Scholarship Fund (ASPSF) is a program designed to assist single-parents in
furthering their educational pursuits. Having helped more than one thousand
scholarship recipients achieve their goals, the Arkansas Single Parent
Scholarship Fund demonstrates for us all, it really does take a village!