Youth plans for a future in computers, despite hurdles
-
Teacher Susan Guggenheim oversees David Dunbar as he pursues certification in computer repair in a training room at NTR. -
David Dunbar performs the final inspection of a laptop that will be sold by Nonprofit Technology Resources.
Share with others:
PHILADELPHIA -- If 15 of his classmates had come to school on the last day of class, they would have seen David Dunbar get a 6-year-old Compaq laptop. They'd have heard him ask how good its hard drive was and then describe his plan to give it to his girlfriend as a Christmas present.
But there's a reason most of his classmates weren't there.
"They don't come to school when it rains," said his teacher, "Miss Susan" Guggenheim.
And on this day, it was pouring.
So an audience of five students sat under a broken chandelier and watched David get his congratulatory laptop, the room brightened by heavy industrial lights plugged into the wall. He accumulated the most bonus points in this computer course, answering questions like, "What is a CRT monitor?"
That would be one that uses a cathode ray tube to display images on a screen, and now David, 19, has a hand-me-down Christmas present for his girlfriend: a laptop that Ms. Guggenheim first got from her partner but doesn't need since picking up a used Hewlett-Packard for herself.
When he heard a reporter would sit in on the class, David thought there would be cameras and a news crew to watch the handover.
He would know what to do. He'd put down the hood that always rests on his head and play the "underprivileged black kid:" He'd smile with a thumbs-up and say, "Miss Susan gave me a chance!"
Then he'd go on with his day. The performance would be "the price of getting a laptop."
David's commute to class at the Institute for the Development of African-American Youth is 45 minutes from the Germantown apartment he shares with his brother.
For coming to class, he gets $6 per day and makes another $30 a week at a computer-refurbishing internship Ms. Guggenheim got him. They're both nonprofit programs trying to raise access to high-speed Internet in Philadelphia, the nation's fifth-largest city and one targeted with federal aid as a result of its shockingly low broadband penetration.
He's eating a chocolate energy bar for breakfast while Ms. Guggenheim returns graded finals to the class. David only missed question No. 41 on how to create a slide show display in PowerPoint (hit F5, not F7).
Taped-up pieces of paper with quotes on them line the walls: Henry David Thoreau telling them to sail confidently in the direction of their dreams, Vince Lombardi preaching the gospel of hard work.
There are no mortarboards or "Pomp and Circumstance" here, but the mood is light and laughs are easy as Ms. Guggenheim hands back the tests.
It's a parade of activity compared to the building's first floor, which was once home to an office for Democrat Joe Sestak's failed Senate bid and has the tattered campaign posters to prove it.
Ms. Guggenheim came here with her partner in 2002 after real estate prices in their Texas town went sinking alongside Enron. They now live in a 126-year-old home with two chimneys, six bedrooms, wooden ceilings, a secondhand commercial fridge and a fireplace overrun with used keyboards ready for donation.
When applying for grants to teach a new class or start a new program, Ms. Guggenheim has been unafraid to go after the big-ticket items. She asks for individual netbooks that her students could carry home in a backpack.
And she's always met with the same criticism from the grant givers: What if it's stolen?
First Published May 23, 2011 12:00 am
