"I don't think that just giving somebody something works. There have to be consequences. And you have to reward discipline and perseverance." — Nick King
One man's Vision Needy children found path to bright future in program offering chance at college, support
By ANDREW WOLFSON awolfson@courier-journal.com The Courier-Journal
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BY BILL LUSTER, THE C-J
The program to pay students' way through college was created 11 years ago by Nick King, above, and his wife.
Students involved in Project Vision posed after graduating from high school. Participants will gather for a reunion tomorrow.
BY BILL LUSTER, THE C-J
Adrianne Tyson held her Centre College diploma. She credits some of her success to Project Vision.
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Growing up in Southwick, one of Louisville's toughest neighborhoods, Adrianne Tyson had to help raise three younger siblings while her mother struggled with an addiction to crack cocaine and other drugs.
"A lot of kids from my neighborhood didn't make it out," she said.
But Tyson did far more than that: She graduated last year from Kentucky's prestigious Centre College with a double major in English and anthropology, after studying abroad in several countries. Today, she works in a management training program, owns a home, and is planning to pursue a master's degree in business administration.
Tyson, 23, credits her success, at least in part, to a Louisville lawyer and his vision that even the neediest children could have a bright future with the right opportunity and support.
Eleven years after Nick King and his wife promised to pay for 38 mostly poor sixth-graders to go to college — if they met twice a week for six years and finished high school — the program they called Project Vision has paid remarkable dividends, educators say.
Thirty-four of the students graduated from high school five years ago, and half are on schedule to have earned degrees from four-year colleges or universities by May. Two more have finished vocational school, and eight have gone on to graduate programs, including a pair who earned their MBAs this week.
Tomorrow, in a celebration planned by the students and their parents, they will gather at the Glassworks in downtown Louisville for a reunion and to give thanks to King and his wife, Carol Zurkuhlen King, who died of cancer in 1999.
King, 58, a former trial lawyer who bankrolled the program with some of the $6.4million he won when a defective shotgun blew off part of his hand, said their goal was to give students a fair chance to fulfill their abilities, whatever they were — not to see how many they could ram through college.
"We knew high school graduation was the best some could ever hope for," he said. Some joined the military or found jobs after getting just a taste of college.
Now, King said, "They are overwhelmingly living good, productive lives. They have jobs, they pay taxes, they contribute to the community and they bring joy to those around them. And that is a wonderful standard of success."
Experts say the graduation rates alone make Project Vision one of the nation's most successful examples of personalized philanthropy, in which wealthy individuals offer to help low-income children, often in inner-city schools.
The Project Vision numbers, both for high school and college graduations, exceed the rates for all students, even though most of the Visionaries, as they are called, came from single-parent homes, lived in public housing and qualified for free and reduced-price student lunches — all considered risk factors for dropping out.
Joseph Kahne, director of the doctoral program in educational leadership at Mills College in Oakland, Calif., who has studied such programs, said Project Vision shows that "with supportive relationships and modest resources, poor kids in difficult circumstances can do phenomenally better than they are currently doing."
Bob Sexton, executive director of Kentucky's Prichard Committee for Academic Excellence, said the Kings' program "demonstrates the power of high expectations and encouragement."
King acknowledges that some of the Visionaries are still finding their way, and others have stumbled.
One got pregnant in high school. Another has struggled with learning disabilities. A third is serving a 10-year prison sentence for armed robbery, which King described as "hugely, terribly disappointing."
Still, he said, "I will emphatically say that I am proud of each and every one of them, including the one in prison. I am proud of them for their effort. All of these people are my friends, and I love them."
Overcoming obstacles
The Visionaries — some of whom haven't seen each other for years — can share remarkable stories of perseverance in the face of tragedies and obstacles to success.
One went off to college just as her brother was shot to death. She lost her scholarship, then won it back and is now pursuing a graduate degree in mental health counseling.
Another, Arivia Brown, who grew up a few hundred yards down the railroad tracks from Cotter Homes, described herself as a holy terror in middle school, where she said she was suspended for fighting.
"I was a discipline problem at home, at school and in Project Vision," she said. "I would fight at the drop of a hat. I didn't want anybody telling me anything."
But Brown, who graduated from Murray State University last week with a degree in education, said King kept after her. "He knew I would do better later. He knew I had potential."
Robert Milan, neither of whose parents graduated from high school, struggled academically but fought his way through Murray State and now works as a guest services manager at University Hospital in Louisville.
"There were some moments where I almost broke down and quit," said Milan, who recently bought his first house. He said King implored him to keep going. "He was like an angel sent to give us a chance to do something in life, and I wasn't going to mess that up."
And there is Tyson, the Centre graduate. A gifted student at Central High School, where she was named a Governor's Scholar, she said she would have attended college without Project Vision, but perhaps not a private school where the tuition is $24,000.
"When I had a chance to go to the South Pacific, he said, `Go!'" she recalled of King's willingness to pay for her to do research projects in Fiji, Tonga and Western Samoa.
Steadfast support
While the lure of free tuition, books, room, board and expenses would seem a sure-fire way to keep children in school, other ventures fueled by philanthropists haven't been nearly as successful.
For such programs to work, Kahne and others have found, the benefactors must build long-term relationships with the students marked by caring and trust.
Some of those chosen for Project Vision said they initially were skeptical when the Kings stood in front of hundreds of children and their parents at the DuValle Education Center and made their remarkable offer.
"It was somewhat shocking at first to see they were a white couple," recalled Kurshanna Gipson, a Project Vision participant who attended Jefferson County Traditional Middle School and won her MBA at the University of Louisville this month. All but one of the 38 selected for Project Vision are black.
"I thought maybe they were doing this for some kind of recognition."
But she said any doubts were quickly dissolved by the Kings' genuine commitment.
"They opened their home to us, opened their arms to us and showed they really cared," Gipson said. "Either Nick or Carol was at every meeting" — the mandatory sessions where students learned how to balance a checkbook, control their anger, study for tests and steer clear of illegal drugs and sexually transmitted diseases.
One or both also were there when the Visionaries toured 20 college campuses, visited Washington, D.C., Chicago and Atlanta, rappelled at Daniel Boone National Forest, and volunteered at the Wayside Mission or the Salvation Army. When students got in trouble, the Kings went to their homes and comforted them, counseled them and cajoled them to do better.
"Any time I felt discouraged, I called them on the phone," said Tyson, who struggled as a freshman at Centre but eventually made the dean's list.
Idarion King, who grew up in Newburg and is pursuing a master's degree in communications at Murray State, agreed that Project Vision was about more than free tuition and $500 a semester in expense money.
"In my neighborhood there weren't a lot of people going to college or encouraging you to go — you either went to work or got in trouble," he said. "Project Vision gave me the vision. It taught me right from wrong."
Helping kids out
For Nick King, who served as Jefferson County commonwealth's attorney, then a state Supreme Court justice for the first years he ran Project Vision, the program was like raising three dozen teenagers.
He broke up fights, drove kids to the doctor and extricated them from danger.
"Sometimes we would both call him on the phone when we were down," said Sylvia Milan, Robert's mother.
King, for his part, said he tried hard to defer to parents — "As much as I loved these children, I realized they weren't my children."
He said he tried not to impose his own values on them. When one girl got pregnant in high school, he said, "We didn't make any judgment about it, we just tried to help her the best we could."
Still, King had to enforce the rules.
He expelled three children when they were in high school, for failing to attend sessions and other violations. "Sometimes you have to look them in the eye and be the Dutch uncle," he said. And he took away their college scholarships when their grade-point averages dipped below 2.0, even for a single semester. To regain them, students had to pay their own way for a year and earn at least a 2.5.
"I don't think that just giving somebody something works," King said. "There have to be consequences. And you have to reward discipline and perseverance."
A record of success
Even if it had ended in high school, Project Vision would have been a staggering success, according to a report prepared in 1999 by the Jefferson County Public Schools and other data.
Ninety percent of the original participants graduated on time from high school in 1998, compared with 60 percent for all African-American students in the district that year. One hundred percent went on to college, at least briefly, compared with 60 percent of students of all races who were in college a year after they graduated from high schools in the district in 1998.
Although there are differences between the programs, the graduation rates for Project Vision surpass those of the I Have A Dream Foundation, in which benefactors adopt an entire grade from an elementary school or an entire age group from a public housing development.
Last year, about 75 percent of 500 children in 17 programs across the United States graduated from high school or received their equivalency degrees on time, according to Noelle Dong, a spokeswoman for the New York-based foundation. Kahne reported in 1998 that between 50 percent and 60 percent of students in I Have A Dream generally graduate from high school and one-third to one-half attend college.
In Louisville, businessman R. Gene Smith adopted a class of 58 fourth-graders at Engelhard Elementary School in 1992 as part of an I Have A Dream project. Eight years later, 34 had graduated on time from high school or earned an equivalency certificate. Executive director Marilyn Foulke said last week that 45 eventually graduated and 32 went on to college or vocational school. Two of those have graduated and between 13 and 16 are scheduled to graduate next year, she said.
The two programs are not directly comparable, Kahne and others say, because of differences in how students were selected. For Project Vision, more than 100 students from over 15 schools were interviewed and chosen based on their ability to envision themselves as successful.
By picking children motivated to succeed, Project Vision probably started with an edge, Kahne said.
But King said Project Vision didn't consider the students' grades or test scores — "We did not cherry-pick." And he said he thinks only about three or four of the 38 children would have gone to college without the program.
`Filled with pride'
King said he's never regretted sponsoring Project Vision, despite his own trials, which include the loss of his seat on the Supreme Court in 1996 and his wife's death three years later. "I lost my partner, and the students lost her unbelievable enthusiasm and support," he said. "But it had to continue because we had made an irrevocable commitment to it."
He said watching the students grow up and succeed has been magical.
"You see your child get a college diploma knowing the journey they've been through and you are filled with pride," he said.
He said his only regret is that none of the dozens of people he's talked to about launching their own version of Project Vision have done so, even though sponsoring a smaller group wouldn't take a lot of money. "What really makes me mad is when people say, `I'd like to do this to — if I ever win the lottery.'"
King, who no longer practices law, works full time on Project Vision and four other scholarship programs that he's started, including one that is paying for 31 students to attend Sacred Heart Academy and college if they graduate.
He said he knows that none of the ventures will wipe out poverty or cure other social ills. But citing an adage attributed to Helen Keller and others, he said: "Because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something I can do."
Experts such as Kahne say children helped by programs like King's should be able to better provide for their own children, and that Project Vision may offer lessons to schools on how to establish meaningful, lasting relationships with students at the greatest risk of failing.
"This is not just a feel-good thing," said Sexton, of the Prichard Committee. "It is real. It shows that if a young person has an adult who cares about them, they can succeed. What Project Vision did is keep kids from getting lost. And the schools can do that too."
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