For TyAnthony Davis, circumstance stopped dictating destiny in the fourth grade. One day he was pulled out of class and taken to the cafeteria to do what seemed to him, as a child, like some puzzles. He did well. Very well.

His IQ got him transferred from the struggling school in his poor Fresno neighborhood into a program for gifted and talented children. From there, it was a straight line to Yale University and later Harvard Law and a fast-track career in mergers and acquisitions.

For Denon Carr, the path out was a pre-dawn trek. His family moved around Nashville a lot, and each time, Carr ended up in a different, failing school. Fed up, his mother eventually won him a special transfer to a wealthy school on the other side of town.

Both men had brothers and sisters at home who, denied the same opportunities, fell further and further behind. Each understood that the crucial lever that flipped was the expectation in their new schools that they could and would achieve. Juris doctor degrees in hand, they were positioned for careers ripe with paychecks and prestige.

But then, a dozen years into their bright adult futures, both men arrived, separately but simultaneously, at the same realization: The way to pay their fortune forward was to work to ensure that more black and brown children had the kinds of opportunities they did.

As desperate as the need is, both Davis and Carr have faced uphill climbs to open their schools. More students in the Los Angeles area now attend public charter schools than anyplace else in the country. And the traditional school districts those students are leaving are the first stop for anyone hoping to open a new school.

It’s a watershed moment,” says [Denon] Carr. “People want schools that work. Public education in a lot of ways is a microcosm of everything else. You’re seeing an erosion of the arts, you’re seeing an erosion of civics. People’s faith is being eroded in other public institutions.”

 

Read the full article by Beth Hawkins from The 74