February 23, 1995: Vol26n28: Law students from inner city 'beat the odds' with help from EOP By STEVE COX Reporter Staff Lourdes Ventura and Rob Ramphul have a lot in common. They arrived at UB as freshmen in 1989, Rob from the Bronx and Lourdes from Queens. Products of single parent homes, public assistance and "awful" neighborhoods, both are first-generation Americans. Each had just become the first child from their family ever to go to college. And, both have beaten the odds. Today, Ventura and Ramphul are members of the UB law school class of '97. They made it through their undergraduate degree programs and earned a place in law school due, in large part, they say, to the aid and support received from the Educational Opportunity Program (EOP). The EOP, which offers support services to 15,000 students with academically or economically disadvantaged backgrounds throughout the state, has been targeted for elimination by Gov. Pataki. Ventura and Ramphul, like many students who feel they owe their success to EOP, are very troubled by that. "Pataki just saw this thing called 'EOP program' and said 'Cut it.' He didn't consider that it involves people," claimed Ramphul. "There are plenty of kids who just will not be back to finish college if this happens. It's tragic." Through financial assistance and special admissions criteria, EOP reaches out to students who, due to barriers in their educational, economic or personal background, might otherwise be unable to pursue a higher education. Students admitted to UB through EOP attend special summer sessions before school begins to polish skills needed for success in college, skills they may not have received in school. Ventura and Ramphul believe in EOP. It works, they say, because it offers opportunities to students who would otherwise "just end up out on the street." And, says Ventura, EOP is not just about money. "There is tutoring available, and the counselors are great. They really know you and you feel like you are part of a family. They check up on you and are really there for you." They concede that "college isn't for everyone," but, Ventura and Ramphul argue, eliminating EOP would mean eliminating the opportunity for many kids who do want to try college. "These are inner-city kids from poor schools, where maybe they weren't that well prepared. Maybe they had to work 30 or more hours a week to support their families while they were in high school," Ramphul explained. "That says something about their sense of responsibility. EOP students are not 'lazy.' That makes me really angry. Most people I know work two or three jobs once they do get to college just to survive." Ramphul's mother and siblings still live in the Bronx. His family emigrated from Guyana when he was nine years old. Graduating from Brooklyn Technical High School, Ramphul came to UB with his eye on an engineering degree. He ended up earning a degree in Political Science and Legal Studies. Many of his friends, though, remained in the Bronx. "When I talk to my friends at home, I sound like a parent. I'm always preaching education to them." Like too many young people from urban neighborhoods, both Ventura and Ramphul, though only in their early 20s, have already buried close friends who were victims of violence. "My best friend didn't go to college. Now, he's dead. He got in a fight at a club and some kid just shot him. "Without an education, all there is to aspire to in my neighborhood is being toughest. It becomes a big turf thing." Ventura has now moved her whole family from Corona, Queens to Buffalo. Her younger brother, also an EOP student, is a freshman at UB. Her mother came to New York City from the Dominican Republic in 1967, Ventura said, and, for virtually her whole life, her mother has been insisting that she would go to college. "But, nobody in my family has ever done this before. It was kind of intimidating at first," she said. Ventura picked UB because it was the only SUNY school that offered architecture. Last May, she earned a bachelor's degree with majors in Health and Human Services, specializing in Early Childhood, and Spanish. A sophomore year trip to a Latino conference in Albany changed the direction of her academic career, says Ventura. "It was like, I realized then how much I wanted to help people." She has since given of herself to the Latino community of Buffalo's West Side, volunteering through her sorority and working at the Boys & Girls Club, one of the three jobs she held during college. "Even if I become a whatever someday, I don't think I'll ever forget where I came from. I want to be able to help my community." The battle to save EOP is being waged now in the state legislature. "At least one Assemblyman, Sam Hoyt, has really gotten involved," said Ventura. "He didn't think anything about EOP until he found out that two of his aides were former EOP students. Now, he's really fighting." Last week, in testimony before the legislature's joint fiscal committees, Gov. Pataki's own Social Services Commissioner, Mary Glass, called the elimination of EOP unwise. Former SUNY Chancellor D. Bruce Johnstone, speaking at an education school alumni event, faulted Pataki's call for EOP's elimination, calling the program "one of the glories of the university system." Johnstone called EOP an easy target for Pataki. "It is a heavily minority program, but by no means exclusively minority. And, Pataki owes nothing to that constituency politically," he said. Johnstone was clearly troubled by policy decisions which, he said, "make job training for minorities okay, but not higher education. It is a type of 'sort and stream' mentality that is very dangerous. Ironically, opponents of EOP cite the notion that only 31 percent of EOP students graduate in five years, versus 39 percent of students overall, as evidence of its failure," he continued. "To me, if EOP brings graduation rates of substantially disadvantaged students that close to overall graduation rates, I'd say it's a huge success, but what do I know?"