Courage in the Face of Challenge

It could be that while journeying, you stumbled upon a rough and broken path that led you past mountain caves, steep precipices, dense and gloomy woods.
For a while you were weary. Yet even in your weariness, you have passed on.
Such is this life. Adversity does not continue forever.
Keep going on.
Keep going on right to the end.
But before running the race, pick your path carefully.

–Saint Ambrose of Milan, Commentary on Twelve Psalms 1.24 (Psalm 1.1)

No two paths toward a St. Ambrose University degree and the future it can promise are exactly alike.

None necessarily are easy, but some are especially challenging. A few are harrowing.

A young woman who found her way to St. Ambrose after a childhood spent struggling through the Chicago foster care system, for instance. She arrived at St. Ambrose this past August, intent on creating opportunities to reach back and help others still trapped in a cycle of poverty and neglect.

Or consider a soon-to-be graduate who arrived here seeking a full college experience, undeterred by vision challenges. She will leave having made the most of it, as a member of the swim team and symphonic band and having earned a teaching degree she will use to show similarly challenged children a loss of sight is not a loss of vision.

Those are two of the five strong and determined Ambrosians profiled over the following pages in stories that resonate – and celebrate – the resilience, persistence, and tenacity of spirit required to navigate a rough and broken path.

"Keep going on right to the end. But before running the race, pick your path carefully."

These students represent countless other Ambrosians overcoming varying degrees of difficulty and stress, issues that are not new to the higher education landscape. What has changed is our understanding of those challenges, along with our readiness to provide all learners the support and the tools to overcome them.

That support comes in the form of St. Ambrose Reading and Learning Strategies Coach Sarah Rissler, PhD, and the staff and student tutors in the Student Success Center. It comes from the Office of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, the Counseling Center, and, particularly, the incredibly hard-working team in the Accessibility Resource Center. It comes from a Campus Ministry staff that helps students lean on their faith in times of doubt, and a Retention Office that helps students struggling in the classroom stay on a path to academic success.

It comes from an Advancement Office that builds scholarship funding for minority students, first-generation students and others who need help, and from the Admissions and Financial Aid offices that match those students with scholarship assistance.

St. Ambrose support comes from Veterans Recruitment Services, the Career Center, and the Offices of Student Affairs and Student Activities. It comes from coaches, faculty, staff and, perhaps most importantly, fellow students.

We do not claim to be the only university where those avenues of support ease a challenged student's path. And Rissler, for one, knows we can always improve.

Still, she said, "I would say we do tend to walk the talk more than what I see happening not just locally but nationally and internationally. We walk the talk."

Arielle Williams: Owning Her Story

Arielle Williams stands 5 feet, 3 inches, weighs 115 pounds, and every inch of her, every ounce, seemingly is infused with strength, determination, and hard-earned fighting spirit.

Like each of her 14 siblings, Williams spent nearly all her life in the foster care system in Chicago, where poverty and crime are an epidemic and the foster system is overwhelmed, broken, and, far too often, tragically unsafe.

"I've been in the foster care system since I was baby, in and out of multiple homes," Williams said. "I have been bounced around house-to-house all my life."

Williams clearly is driven by memories of harrowing experiences she shares only sparingly, but those will not defeat her. Nor will they define her.

As a first-year St. Ambrose student this past year, Williams began building her own powerfully positive narrative, a story bound for a hopeful and inspirational ending. She is taking control of her life through the educational opportunity she "always, always, always" knew she would pursue, even in the darkest moments of a childhood few of her SAU classmates can comprehend.

Her ambitions are large, and they are noble. Williams is focused on reaching back and lifting into a better future her siblings and any child trapped in a life of poverty, abuse, and neglect.

"I'm going to be a psychiatrist," she declared. "I want to create non-profits for foster kids. Group homes. I really want 'Dr.' in front of my name. I want to stand for something.

"And I want to be on a billboard or something. I don't know. But I'm going to do something big."

***

Asked recently to share as much or as little of her past as she comfortably could, Williams instead told a story about her younger sister, a story she wrote for an English 101 course.

It started with her sister trapped in a foster home where, in Williams' stark, read-beyond-the-words telling, "she was treated wrong." It was a home with a lock on the refrigerator; where the child was forced to take medicine she didn't need; and where she spent her evenings alone in a barely furnished room. When the sister was allowed outside those walls at night, it was to step out alone into the city's most dangerous neighborhood to purchase cigarettes or other items on the foster mother's order.

This story has a happy ending. Williams' sister guardedly shared her situation with a foster friend and babysitter named Patience, who quickly took the child into her home. "When she moved in with Patience, all that stopped. She is being taken care of," Arielle said. "That's what I wrote about."

Williams is far less interested in sharing details of her own story, but what she'll say – and, particularly, what she chooses not to say – speaks volumes.

"My stuff was more traumatic," she allowed. "I was beaten a lot. I was ..."

She paused.

"Yeah," she concluded following a faraway silence. "I was beaten a lot. A lot of other things ..."

***

School was always a refuge.

Caring teachers, counselors, and social workers in the Chicago Public School system pulled Williams and her siblings out of more than one untenable foster situation.

"It gave me a sense of hope that there were people who actually cared about me," she said.

From the fifth grade on, Williams set her sights on a college degree, a ticket out of poverty that fewer than 10 percent of foster children achieve nationwide, according to the website for the scholarship program Foster Care to Success.

Williams would not be deterred.

"That's the age you start to realize what's going on around you," she said of her fifth-grade revelation. "I realized I didn't want to live like that the rest of my life. And when I had kids, I didn't want them to live like that either.

"College was always my thing," she added. "No matter what happened in my life, I was going to college."

St. Ambrose's small class sizes and caring campus community appealed to Williams as she readied to graduate from Tinley Park High School in the spring of 2021. So did the University's clear commitment to student support, particularly for those from dire circumstances like hers. Williams said Chicago-based Admissions counselor Jill Holubetz went beyond the standard enrollment pitch. "Jill was actually the one who held my hand to help me get in," Williams said.

In her initial year at St. Ambrose, Williams has found others willing to lend a hand. Or, as importantly, an ear.

SAU Reading and Learning Strategies Coach Sarah Rissler, PhD, is a compassionate and committed confidante to Williams and many other students. She was the first person to whom Williams reached when a brother died in October.

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Student Coordinator Fritz Dieudonné, a former SAU student with an urban background of his own, offers advice when fellow students who cannot relate to Williams – and vice-versa – harm her spirit.

"Ideally, every student's understanding of difference will grow through exposure and experience," Dieudonné said. "This, after all, is how a campus community intentionally committed to diversity, equity, and inclusion can change the world, one changed worldview at a time."

Meanwhile, Williams will keep moving toward the degree and education she knows will transform her life.

She is strong in the classroom and is learning beyond it through her participation in the Black Student Union. And, although she's getting scholarship assistance, Williams also works 12-hour shifts as a Certified Nursing Assistant – something she began doing as a high school junior – to keep her accounts current.

Told she is a tenacious young person, Williams let a childlike giggle escape, one strangely at odds with the battle-hardened survivor she presents today. "Yeah, if I want to do it, I'm going to do it," she said.

That's the strength, determination, and indefatigable fighting spirit that lifted Williams from a beyond-challenging childhood and brought her story to St. Ambrose.

She needed every inch. Every ounce.

"I mean, there were times I wanted to do the thing that I'm not supposed to," Williams conceded in that spare read-beyond-the-words style of storytelling she has mastered. "I have been committed to hospitals before. But the thing that really pushed me was my younger siblings. They look up to me, so I've got to do it for them. And for myself, also."

Her billboard awaits.

Jayden Rodgers: The Power of Caring

During a student-teaching assignment in Davenport last fall, Education major Jayden Rodgers surveyed the classroom and recognized at least a half dozen students likely working through questions he was asking of himself at a similar age.

Am I good enough?

Can I do this?

Does anybody care?

"A lot of these kids say the same things I used to say, so it's really easy to identify and try to help them through it," said Rodgers, a St. Ambrose University junior from Glendale Heights, Illinois. "What I would do is, after class, write on a notecard, 'You Matter!' Or 'You're Smart.' Something. Just a positive message I would leave on their desks.

"I just wanted to stress that I care. That's not just with the kids I work with. That's anybody. You're going to know I care."

Rodgers was a high school junior when testing anxiety threatened to end his dream of playing college football and earning a degree. That's when he discovered the powerful impact another person's personal investment can have on another's well-being.

The young linebacker's play on the field had earned the interest of a large number of schools, including one Division I program. Yet, his testing anxiety and uncommitted classroom performance became an issue for many who simply moved on to the next recruit.

"I took an ACT test and had a panic attack," he said. "I had to walk out. Then, I didn't score well on the next test. A lot of schools were turned off by that. Coach [Vince] Fillipp was so dedicated and committed to getting me accepted into St. Ambrose."

Appointed head coach in February, Fillipp was the Fighting Bees defensive coordinator and lead recruiter at the time.

"He kept telling me, 'I want you here. I want to coach you,'" Rodgers recalled. "That just meant the world to me. What keeps me motivated now is knowing there's someone here invested in me."

Rodgers has since met many invested Ambrosians. School of Education director Gene Bechen, PhD, and academic advisor Mike Kiss have helped him hone his passion for teaching. Carol McCoy, a direct service provider in the Accessibility Resource Center, has helped him work through testing issues and offered her office as a place to find calm when anxiety strikes. Roommates and teammates provide support and tutoring if and when it's needed, Rodgers said.

"Everyone here is so academically driven, it's not hard to find someone to help you out," he said. "It's one of the great things about St. Ambrose."

He will pay that caring forward in a classroom following his graduation.

"I lacked confidence before I got to St. Ambrose," he said. "I needed reassurance. So, I will try and feed that back into these kids."

Grace Johanns: A Vision Beyond

Grace Johanns wouldn't say she sees past the daily difficulties posed by the genetic visual impairment she has spent a lifetime overcoming.

She does see beyond them.

"The mantra I try to live by is, 'A loss of sight is never a loss of vision,'" Johanns said as she readied to earn her Bachelor of Arts in Elementary Education on May 21. "That is something I try to embody in my everyday life and something I remind myself of often."

Johanns was born with oculocutaneous albinism, which impacts vision, along with nystagmus, which causes involuntary rapid eye movement. The combination can produce one of four conditions: total blindness, partial blindness, legal blindness, or low vision.

"I fall into the low-vision category," said Johanns, whose vision rates 20/50 with glasses and won't decline more rapidly than those without vision issues.

Johanns very patiently can break down the challenges she's encountered and list the many accommodations that have helped her lean into the full collegiate experience she envisioned when she chose St. Ambrose University.

Coming out of Burlington (Iowa) High School, Grace had several specific boxes she needed checked for her perfect college fit:

• An Accessibility Resource Center that ranks among the Midwest's best in assisting students with all manner of challenges? Check.
• A small and caring campus that celebrated and honored her Catholic faith? Check.
• A student-focused Teacher Education Program that creates teachers who focus on students? Check. (She carried a 3.92 GPA through 3½ semesters, by the way.)
• An opportunity to play the flute and piccolo? Check.

One last checkmark didn't fit in a box but instead a pool. Johanns joined a St. Ambrose swimming and diving program that was in its second year in 2018 and earned team points by swimming grueling distance races for which others wouldn't raise their hand. "I like to think I'm a good teammate," said Johanns, who began swimming competitively in fifth grade. "That's how I contribute."

Johann's next chapter will see her pursue a master's degree in teaching students with visual impairments at Vanderbilt University's prestigious Peabody College of Education and Human Development. Her intent is to teach at a state school for the blind, and her dream is to coach swimming.

Her vision for the future and her outlook toward the myriad challenges she has overcome are, it must be said, the epitome of Grace.

"I could choose to feel sad, right?" she said. "Because there are some losses. But if I wasn't this way, if I didn't have my condition, I don't think I would be as compassionate and have as much empathy as I'd like to think I do for those who have unique challenges, qualities and differences. I don't think I would change how I am."

Selena Lopez: Inherited Strength

Jose Morales left school in the third grade, put his young back into his work on the family farm in Mexico, and then continued to work tirelessly for the sake of his family virtually until the day he died at the age of 51 on November 20 last year.

That was almost exactly a month before his daughter, Selena Lopez, crossed a stage at the Davenport RiverCenter and collected a hard-earned St. Ambrose University Bachelor of Arts in Elementary Education.

More than validating her father's decision to bring his wife, Yolanda, and their two young daughters to Davenport in 2003, Selena's determined and hard-fought journey to a college degree honored her immigrant father's epic work ethic.

"My dad did everything he could to bring us to this country to have a better opportunity, so I always kept that in mind," she said. "He was always so proud of me. I just didn't have a chance to share that joy with him."

As she builds her teaching career, Selena will rely on traits she always shared with her father. Commitment. Tenacity. And a compassionate determination to help those around her.

Three days after her father's death, Selena interviewed for the job she holds today as a reading interventionist at Jefferson Elementary School in Davenport.

"I had to get my mind straight that day," she said of the challenging interview. "I said, 'This is something my dad would want. I can't blow it up now.' A few days later, I got the offer."

Working at Jefferson completes a full-circle journey that is a tribute to Selena's strength and spirit. Jefferson was the school she attended as a non-English-speaking second-grader, newly arrived in the United States. It is where she met her future husband, Cesar, now a Moline police detective.

While her parents encouraged and supported their education, her mother's limited English and father's long workdays scrapping metal and iron left it to Selena and her sister Maria to do the work of getting educated.

Selena's hard work reached beyond school. She began working part-time in high school. She continued to do so after graduating from Davenport West High, marrying Cesar, earning an associate's degree at Scott Community College, and then enrolling at St. Ambrose.

Initially ineligible to apply for federal assistance due to her Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) status, Selena paid her way through school as best she could through entry-level jobs.

"I don't have a lot of debt which is nice, but it felt like I was just working for school," she said. "I was. Today, I'm like, 'How did I do that?'"

What's more, she stepped out of school 2½ years ago after giving birth to a son, Armani. Leaving her child with family babysitters to return to school a year later was another mental hurdle, even with her husband's considerable support.

But, she said, "It's what I wanted to do. I needed to finish what I started."

Jacob Le: An American Dream

Jacob Le's biggest youthful challenge was weighing gratitude for the hard work his immigrant parents put in to ensure he could earn a college education versus his occasional wish for the kind of "normal childhood" he saw his friends experience.

"In elementary school, I wished that I had parents who would have been there for more of my extracurricular activities," he said. "That was hard to comprehend when I was young, but now I realize they had to work to support me."

Jacob's success as he pursues his Bachelor of Science in Nursing at St. Ambrose University is a significant source of pride for his parents, who came to the United States from Vietnam decades apart.

His father, Luc, arrived in 1976, a year after the Fall of Saigon. Luc and a brother escaped after fighting for South Vietnam in the Vietnamese Conflict, and eventually made their way to Peoria, Illinois, under the sanction of sponsors. Luc took up the hard work of welding and will have put in a 46-year career when he retires next year.

Jacob's mother, Dieu, immigrated from the Socialist Republic of Vietnam in 1990 and landed in Peoria where she and Luc married. For most of Jacob's life, Dieu has worked six days per week as a nail technician. Jacob has an older half-brother, Adam Le, but essentially was raised as an only child.

Although Jacob's challenges are less daunting than those of some Ambrosians, his college search was complicated by his parents' limited English language skills, an issue common to many first-generation collegians.

"Applying for FAFSA [Free Application for Federal Student Aid] or just understanding curriculum are things I had to orient myself to," Jacob said. "I had to do more of my own research on schools than my friends did."

College was a goal Jacob's parents always encouraged. And when Jacob realized his passion for music might not lead to a career, it was his mother who posed the sage question that helped him identify his future. She asked what major might make a more practical choice while still allowing him to make use of his creative side?

"That's when I found nursing," Jacob said. "Combining focused critical thinking and science with the creativity required in music is perfect for nursing. In order to go above and beyond for your patients, to have a more holistic approach to healthcare, you have to think outside the box a little bit and have creative interventions to help."

After graduating next year from St. Ambrose, Jacob plans to pursue doctoral degrees as a nurse practitioner and medical researcher.

The prospect of calling their son Dr. Jacob Le is truly exciting for his parents, who for years sold egg rolls out of their kitchen to supplement the family income. In every sense, Jacob's success is the fulfillment of the American dream.

"I attribute my success to my mom and dad," Jacob said. "I think every parent raised in difficult circumstances wants that for their children."

Stories by Craig DeVrieze '16 MOL