suburb but near a city, and the educational opportunity. Moms usually want their children close by, but my mother was used to my being far away. I was not outgoing, so she thought that Milton’s size would be about my speed. My mom accepted Milton’s admission offer before we had the opportunity to visit the campus. After looking through the brochure and having a brief conversation with Neville Lake (an admission officer), she was confident that Milton was the right place for me. I was not as confident. Milton didn’t have much in common with North St. Louis and all that I had known. I was a Missourian: I dressed differently; I spoke with a different accent. Thanks to St. Louis’s magnet program and my education at home, I fit in academically. However, socially and economically I was, for lack of a better word, lost. The cars and homes that were part of the Milton scene were completely outside my experience. The unmistakable wealth and opportunity made for a foreign environment. I did what comes instinctively when surrounded by the unknown: looked around and clutched tightly to anyone and anything that seemed remotely familiar. Milton’s Minority Orientation program was a godsend. It afforded me a brief, essential window for getting my bearings and recalibrating my inner compass. After Orientation, Milton opened the year with a tea in the library for everyone in the class and their families, along with faculty. Making my way in and out of the crowd, I felt as if I were drowning. I was overwhelmed. To talk with someone and keep myself afloat, I looked around desperately. Thank goodness Sheldon Ison’s head appeared above the throng: a buoy for me at that moment. I knew him from the Orientation Program and he was a fellow midwesterner. I’m not sure how I would have made it without Orientation. It connected me with a base of friends, and with a number of Milton adults, including Mr. Hardy and Mr. Hilgendorf. After school started, my support system shifted to people in my dorm, which quickly became my primary base. To this day, the core group of friends I met in Orientation are close friends. They played a crucial role in my transition. I was a focused student and never really struggled with academics. My struggles
16 Milton Magazine
Coping with an unfamiliar environment is tough, and tougher if you’re inclined to steer clear of new people and things.
were on the social side. I’m a socially introverted guy; it’s just my nature. Coping with an unfamiliar environment is tough, and tougher if you’re inclined to steer clear of new people and things. Large rooms filled with people made me uncomfortable; school dances frightened me. I didn’t even like people showing up to watch my football games. I was comfortable only in Milton’s small classrooms (in which we were working, not technically socializing) and in the dorm. My core group of friends, including Doug Chavez, Sheldon Ison, Steven Clarke, Juan Fernandez, Kem Poston, Julian Cowart, Joseph Golden, and a handful of others, helped me break out of that shell. If I didn’t want to go to a dance, they applied that light pressure that got me to stop by for just a few minutes. If I didn’t want to hang out in Harvard Square, my friends who lived in Boston invited me to their homes for dinner with their families, smaller and quieter settings. Once I concluded that they were looking out for my best interest, I caved in more and more, attended an increasingly larger array of social events, and in the process, uncovered aspects of my personality that I would never have developed. Still, my thoughts and loyalties were focused on home in North St. Louis and friends there. At Milton, I found myself wondering why I was given this opportunity while other smart kids had to stay home and deal with the perils of living there. My sense of guilt for being at Milton got so severe that I packed my suitcase, called my mom and told her I was coming home. She asked, “Why?” I didn’t tell her that I was homesick, or felt guilty. Instead, in my adolescent confusion and indignation, I told her that I felt disconnected from the “real world,” and no longer had any idea of what was going on back in St. Louis. My mom simply said, “If you want to know what’s happening in the real world, then buy a newspaper.” She hung up the phone.
I unpacked and figured that I had to give Milton a go. Turning to my friends, I began the long, difficult process of learning to open up and expand. My friends’ constant nudging felt like a lot of pressure initially. One particular spring Saturday I actually crawled under my bed and hid out to avoid the “pressure.” My friends were going to a School dance, and I didn’t feel like going. I never felt like going. Just as I was starting to doze off, Doug Chavez and Sheldon came into the room to convince me to join them. Remaining quiet in my hiding place, I heard Doug say, “I’m trying to convince Ronnell to come. I think he’d really enjoy himself.” I then understood that they wished me no ill. What felt like pressure was simply their trying to get me to try new things. Eventually, I rolled out from under the bed, found my friends and went to the dance. I was learning to trust and rely upon them, a feeling that would grow over the years. When they suggested a dance or School play, I usually went. When they suggested I dance with them in a talent show, I did. When they suggested I run for head monitor, I did. When my good friend Bill Moore (my French teacher) suggested I sign up for the French exchange, I did. Left to my own devices, I would not have done any of those things. They forced me to push my limits and become more well rounded. As my Milton career drew to a close, I decided not to apply to the colleges I knew my friends wanted to attend. I was unsure whether the social growth I had experienced was really me, or whether I had simply responded to others’ expectations. To find out, I needed to walk alone for a bit, and see where the road led. Realizing that my growth at Milton was indeed real did not take long. It took even less time for me to realize that my life’s road would repeatedly intersect with the roads of my friends. Our paths cross often and intentionally. We have networked and helped one another professionally and personally. We have careers, interests, families and the friendships that have evolved naturally, over time. I have never had to walk alone long. I received an invaluable education at Milton, both inside and outside the classroom.