What I wanna be when I grow up

     When I ran into Scot Giambalvo at ArtsFest on Memorial Day weekend, as he manned a table signing up those interested in helping to revive MODE, I surprised myself. I stopped dead in front of the table and begged Scot to let me write once in a while. "I miss it," I said.

Lady Lockhart - From Harrisburg High to Harvard

     He of course delivered a warning (half-joking) to my companion of the day to beware that hanging around me is like walking through a minefield. (Scot and I go back a long way) And of course, I was also thinking, He is so right. I have no time to write anything; my day job is more than enough work as it is.

     But the conversation didn't come to a quick conclusion. Scot was explained his motive for reviving MODE: "I want to tell stories," he said. "There are so many stories in Harrisburg that need to be told." And I was nodding like the straign-A nerd in the front row of (THIS NEEDS TO BE SOME SCIENCE OR MATH REERENCE OR IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE)English class.

     And I wandered off slowly, thinking, Okay, Ms. Bobblehead, when are you finally going to know what it is you want to be when you grow up?

     Fact is, this one-time editor of the original MODE and of Harrisburg Magazine does miss writing, especially misses having a forum every month, but she does have a day job and it's not writing or editing.

     These days, I'm the executive director of the Harrisburg Public School Foundation, and the bulk of my time is spent working to help build partnerships between the community and the Harrisburg schools.

     But it struck me that Scot is right. It's not about whether I have time to tell stories, or my job description. Some stories should be told.

     Last summer I learned that a young woman I'd met a few years before was expected to arrive at the district administration offices to present a presentation on her summer program at the Harvard University business school.

     When we met three years earlier she was a somewhat ragged-looking 17-year-old in borrowed sweat pants and a knit cap pulled down over unwashed hairHer family had hit a rough spot and she was temporarily homeless. I asked her if she'd like to skip the photo shoot, considering the circumstances, but she said, "Absolutely not. I'm doing it." So, I took her to my place for a shower and some lunch.

     She'd been chosen for the photo because she represented young women's healthy habits -she was an extraordinary athlete and in excellent condition despite the personal challenges she faced every day. In addition, she was at the top of her graduating class and quite personable.

     Within the hour she was made up and wearing a slinky red cocktail dress and strappy heels; she posed in front of a Mercedes Benz along with corporate CEOs and lawyers and writers and surgeons. Then it was back into her borrowed sweats.

     Fast forward to this past summer.

     A confident young woman in a business suit, hair pulled back, sleek portfolio under her arm presented a very polished slide show about her work at "Summer Venture in Management Program," a highly competitive program for rising college seniors from across the United States.

     She'd not only wowed the Harvard B-schoolprofessors with her smarts, but she'd also cowed the guys in the program with her basketball skills.

     Why'd she come back? To say thank you. To show the folks who had made a difference that their hard work had paid off in her life.

     And she's not the only success story.

     As part of my job I've started attending Board of Control meetings to try to get the whole picture of what's happening in the district. They are eye-opening.

     At one meeting this summer, a critic of the current administration - the very same administrators who had been there for the red-dress girl- stood up and claimed that the superintendent and his staff use successful Harrisburg High and SciTech alums as a dog-and-pony show, when in fact they're failing out of colleges where they never belonged in the first place? Tell that to Lady Lockhart, who will be a senior at Bucknell this year. Tell that to Valonda Harris, who will be a junior at Harvard, and to Shanita Baltimore, who will be a sophomore at Princeton, and to Sharon Thomas, who will be a senior at Mansfield University.

     I know what good teachers, a strong curriculum, a caring administration and a couple of mentors along the way can do for a youngster, no matter how poor, who is hungry to learn. I know how important it is for the entire community to pitch in and help the teachers do their job.

     My job offers me a chance to give back to the system that changed my life. No, it's not writing. Yes, it's exhausting. But it's tremendously satisfying.

     I know that it's easy to criticize, easy to place blame. But it's not so easy to keep pushing this huge boulder up the hill everyday, believing in your heart that sooner or later you'll reach the top, and meanwhile shaking off those who are grabbing you by the ankles, convinced that your slow progress comes from laziness, or self-interest or goodness knows what else.

     But the folks at the school district push that boulder to So that today's kids can have the same opportunities we did, despite their many obstacles.

     All my adult life, I've been confused about what I want to do. I keep thinking I'll grow up and know. Do I want to be the English and writing teacher I trained to be? Do I want to edit others' work, like I love to do? Or am I in just the right place right now, fighting for the kids of the Harrisburg schools, struggling to convince the community that every little bit they can do to help will change lives for the better?

     So whether teaching, writing or advocating, I guess I've finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be the person who helps get the truth told. And retold. As often as it takes, until things change.

Lisa Paige, Contributing Editor

     Today, the truth I want told throughout Harrisburg is this: In all my travels, from my 35-kid public school first-grade classroom in the basement of an overcrowded, decaying building where the girl next to me used to wet her pants, to lecture halls in ivy-covered towers, I've never seen more dedicated teachers and administrators than those I see working in Harrisburg today. They want to ensure that city students will have a voice in the public dialogue that constitutes everyone's idea of reality, so that they too will tell their stories and be heard.

     Sure, some of what MODE publishes is all about fun - where to find a good band, where to grab a tasty cheap lunch. Some of it's even a little irreverent. But to me, the best of what MODE publishes is the kind of eye-opening writing that simply makes you think in a new way about an old topic. And if I can help that happen, well, then, I'm doing my part. Back when I was in school, that's what I was told education was all about. It wasn't about getting an A on the test but about learning how to think.

     As the great man said, "Become the change you want to see in the world." Scot's blind faith in returning to publishing a newspaper shows he gets it. But he can't do it alone. He needs letters and suggestions and most of all, your stories. Speak out. Harrisburg will be richer for it. Just like in church Sunday mornings, the more voices the better the sound.

     Meanwhile, thanks, Scot, for giving me some room to tell this one.