Never underestimate a counselor’s power

Iremember kicking used crack vials out of my way as a kid to play outside my building. I remember learning what drugs were around the age of 3, at home in pajamas, watching my uncle roll joints in his bedroom.

Like a dark cloud constantly lurking, drugs followed me throughout life. One day, arriving home from high school, I realized another uncle, who was a fullblown drug addict, had stolen my winter boots to score a hit.

Crime was never too far off either. Guys sold out on the streetcorner. Gang fights happened with regularity. Once, a friend got shot in the back while being robbed for his winter coat.

Through it all, one person serendipitously became a source of support that helped keep me out of the vicious cycle that was life in the early 1990s in the Bronx: my high school college counselor, Dr. Donald Comras.

Unfortunately, not every inner city student is as lucky — either because counselors are too rare, or because they don’t get the chance to connect.

New data show one in four public schools in America is a high-poverty school, double what it was back in the 1990s. But even when these schools offer counselors, mentoring programs, educational nonprofits and after-school programs — which many of them do — too many young people don’t get the support they need. So why the disconnect? For me, there were myriad opportunities available. The problem was I had no idea how to navigate my way through them. I also wasn’t prepared to manage the difficult conversations that come with being the black sheep for opting out of selling drugs, a life of crime and cutting class.

The support I got from Comras was the start of a lifetime of change.

I always knew I wanted to go to college, but I had no clue how to start choosing schools or how to manage applying for them. To make things more complicated, a full schedule of classes and responsibilities at home left me with barely any time to plan.

Comras worked with me to map out everything, meeting me two or three times a month for indepth discussions and to figure out next steps.

He made sure to explain my options. He helped me understand what colleges looked for, urged me to get more involved in clubs at school, and reviewed my grades to ensure I was on track. He also helped me to secure vouchers that offset application fees for the eight schools we chose together.

Once all the applications were in the mail and it was time to play the waiting game, Comras reassured me everything would be fine. He gave me a world of support I didn’t receive at home — not because of a lack of love but probably because the adults around me had never been in such a situation.

And, not least, he helped me deal with the whirlwind of emotions that came with the process. It went from fear when we started to reluctance and discomfort when I had to ask my mother about our financial situation, then changed to disbelief when we filled out applications, and shifted to shock when we realized I got into all eight schools.

He left the final decision up to me when we learned I was accepted into both Fordham University and New York University with almost full scholarships. I chose Fordham because it was close to home.

Comras was the sole college counselor for nearly 400 high school juniors and seniors like me. But he changed my life.

Recent data about underrepresented high school students suggests success is possible with the proper support. I am living proof of this. Counselors make the difference.

I implore students and parents to spend time not only with their classroom teachers, but with counselors, who are tremendously valuable, often underutilized resources.

I implore counselors themselves, some of whom have fallen into old routines, to not only ask students about their goals and dreams, but to stay on them to ensure they’ve taken the necessary steps. Let them know they’re not alone and ensure they understand how these moments will shape the rest of their lives.

And I implore our city’s leaders never to underestimate the power of personal connections in students’ lives.

Take it from someone who’s lived through it. Your background doesn’t have to be your destiny. There’s a way to create a better future.