Scholarship can mean a new life;
A former
gang member talks about what it means to win a Page Scholarship.
BYLINE: Lucy Y. Her; Staff Writer
BODY:
For Cher Her, a college education means a second chance at getting a normal
life.
In 1990, he was thrown from a stolen car during a police chase. He lost some of
the mobility of his right side. His right arm now is shorter than his left, and
the fingers curl in.
But the impact was much more than physical.
"After that, I changed my life," the former gang member said.
"I never went back to the gang. I will never go back."
Today, he's looking forward to a future made brighter when he found out that he
was one of 535 winners of a Page Education Foundation Scholarship to help
students of color go to college.
On Wednesday, the students were honored at a ceremony at the North Star
Ballroom at the University of Minnesota-St. Paul campus student union.
Of the 535 recipients, 260 are first-timers like Her. The others are repeat
winners. Scholarships range from $900 to $2,500 a year, depending on the course work.
"This means a lot to me, because I cannot afford to go to college without this
scholarship," Her said.
The scholarship was established in 1988 by
former Viking, university regent and current Minnesota Supreme Court Justice
Alan Page. Since the first year's group of 10 recipients, the number of Page
scholars has grown to 1,660 students. They have completed more than 100,000
hours of community service in return.
"Those of us who are a part of the Page Foundation are extremely proud of you," Page said during the ceremony.
"You young men and women are the future."
To get the money, each scholar must agree to work with elementary- and
middle-school children as mentors, role models or tutors for at least 50 hours
during a college year.
Her, of St. Paul, said he won't mind the work. He said he already spends
several hours a week at the St. Paul Hmong Alliance Church in Maplewood working
as a volunteer and mentor.
"I teach the kids about
God, songs," he said, and added that he would love to be a role model.
"I share my testimony with everybody that I can. Those who believe me, I
believe, their lives will prosper."
Her, 25, graduated from high school in 1994. At that time, he said, he never
considered going to college. But after seven years of failing to find a good
and stable job, he decided that college was his only option. He plans to attend
Crown College in St. Bonifacius, Minn., and study to become a youth counselor.
He said his dream is to work with other young people to help them realize that
a gang life is not a life at all. If not for the accident, he said, he would be
dead or in jail for the rest of his life.
After the accident, Her was in a coma for two months.
"They said that if I awoke, I would be
mentally retarded, but God helped me and God just made me a little bit disabled."
Her said his mentors are his parents, who continue to inspire him. They brought
him to America from war-torn Laos in 1980 when he was 4.
He said they do not speak English, but they have always supported his education.
"We thank God," his mother, Seng Kong, said in Hmong. Her smiles added more wrinkles to her
round face.
"We are very happy."
_ Lucy Y. Her is at lher@startribune.com.