As the Millennial Trains Project enters the two-week countdown for applications, the nation is responding to its provocative idea: Let’s use 150-year-old railways to inspire 21^st century change. Over the span of ten days, 40 Millennials will cross the country by train, each rider with a specific, crowdfunded project to help build a better nation. Riders won’t be alone: They will count on the dialog and involvement of onboard mentors and station-side cities.

We Millennials don’t have an easy future up ahead of us, and it seems that we’ve been dubbed with some tough-to-swallow labels, like narcissism and laziness.  25-year-old Patrick Dowd, MTP’s Founder and CEO, insists that the jury is still out on our generation – and that maybe Millennials are ready to step up to the plate.

In our conversation, Dowd shares about the challenges that Millennials face, the inspiration behind the project, and the stories MTP is uncovering through its applicants and stakeholders.

Your Huffington Post article suggested that Millennials may not be such a “Me Me Me Generation,” as TIME recently suggested.

I thought that the TIME article was, like many others, not that impressive or accurate. It takes a slice of data and makes sweeping generalizations about what that this generation is or isn’t.

I’m not saying that Millennials are one thing or another. I’m just creating a platform that will help people to explore their passions. Applications are proving that there’s a lot of talent in our generation. That’s a big asset.

MTP says that Millennials are living in a United States that is more divided that at any time since the Civil War. 

It’s true. Just look at the exit maps from the last election – Look at the red and blue states. There are a lot of disagreements, and a lot of polarizations. With the way the media has evolved, people can now build silos around themselves, surrounding themselves with information sources that reaffirm only their beliefs.

But there is no political litmus test to get on this train, and we are bringing really diverse people together. This is building new relationships based on shared aspirations for a better future – that aren’t constrained by existing political fault lines.

You’ve said that MTP was inspired by your similar experience in India with Jagriti Yatra. 

Yes. I studied Hindi and read and learned about India for three years, and I lived in India for five months – but traveling across the breadth of the country gave me so much more than what I could gleam from academic study or living in one place.

It also helped me to imagine what it’s like to do something on a big scale; to think of what the opportunities could be. You feel the diversity – the geographical diversity, the human diversity, and even the spiritual diversity as well. There’s something about feeling the bumps of the country as you go across it – highways and airplanes can’t offer that.

When I came back from India, I was working with JP Morgan when the Occupy Wall Street movement began to gain traction. I thought there was a better way to channel the frustration that my generation has with the challenges we face.

How does MTP’s compare to Jagriti Yatra?

They are both built on the concept that journeys build leaders, and they share the mission of building trans-regional perspectives and experiential learning.

The biggest difference is that MTP is very user-generated. Riders are designing their own projects, and doing their own crowdfunding. In India, we didn’t have the opportunity to develop our own projects.

An India-inspired idea, taking root in the United States. Any hopes it will continue to spread?

Expansion could happen. Maybe people will want to copy it – And that’s fine! We can help with capacity building if other people wanted to do this somewhere else. I think the most important component is that the location needs to have a geographically diverse innovation ecosystem.

You’re making a big bet on Millennials. Have you seen any adversity from that?

We had some surprising responses to my piece in GOOD. Some people from older generations were complaining about the project being only for Millennials, saying that older people shouldn’t be left out of the project. I certainly understand, but I think we need to create a safe space for our generation to create ideas of our own.

I was joking with my team that for every seat in Congress – which is making decisions that will affect our future – that’s occupied by a Millennial, we’ll offer a seat for older people on the train!

Ha! I bet the comment wouldn’t sit well with a lot of non-millennials. 

I don’t know about that. For every one snide comment I’ve gotten, there have been 100 people saying, “This is great,” “I want my daughter or son to get involved,” or “How can I support you…”

Older people are generally very supportive of MTP. People want to rebuild a sense of America, and that’s cross-generational.

What other stakeholders have been in dialog with MTP?

On one hand, we’re working with the entrepreneurial, design-thinking community – but it’s been fascinating to connect with the old school train community. The train guys are like land sailors. They have this amazing oral history about seeing cities being built across the country, but it’s not very well-documented or accessible online – you have to talk to them to discover their stories.

We also hosted a delegation of Native Americans that had gone on a walk from Kansas to DC. We both connected with the idea that journeys build leaders. We had a very long discussion about the history of their people, their beliefs, and what it’s like to be a Native American. The meeting was three hours long, and for the first 90 minutes, I just listened to the storytelling of their history and culture.

They reminded us that in popular culture, the idea of trains represents adventure and the pioneering spirit that we want to revive. But for them, it represents an instrument of extreme terror that was used as a vessel to desolate their populations. It was good to be made aware of that. They also recognized that we are using the train for a different purpose, and both sides hoped to see participation from their tribes.

Are you learning anything new about Millennials through this process?

Very diverse groups of people are gravitating toward the opportunity. It’s just this kaleidoscopic look at where the generation might be headed.  There are projects about alternative education, wearable technologies, music, poetry, computer science, health, local governance…

I’m learning about things I didn’t even know existed. There is one project about citizen science. They are using technology to connect outdoor athletes, conservation scientists, and policymakers. For example, a rock climber sees an eagle’s nest, takes a picture with her cell phone, tags it, and sends the data to an eagle conservatory.

Another project works with community wireless networks. They use free open source software to build community mesh intranets. One applicant, Stephanie, is using Google Glass to identify opportunities for wearable technology.

So are you seeing a tech-heavy balance of projects?

There are a lot of projects that are only possible because of new technologies – but it’s not really about technology. It’s about passion, principles, and ideas. Cameron wants to digitally share her street installations of poetry, but for her, [MTP] is about the magic and beauty of poetry. Stephanie is working with “techy” Google Glass, but it’s also about honoring and connecting with her immigrant parent’s pioneering journey to the United States. Lindsea from Hawaii is integrating technologies into local governance, but I think it’s also about being part of a country even when you’re from an outlying part of it. I imagine her connecting with inspiring friends from the mainland as a result of this.

At a time when we have so much ability to connect through technological innovations, we have physical connections that can be much more powerful. It’s worth the time and effort of people to unplug and connect in that way.

This will be MTP’s first trip. What are MTP’s expectations? 

This first journey is an experiment and we’ll learn from it. Some stops and forms of engagement will be more successful than others, and everybody getting onboard knows that. It’s the start of something great and a learning experience for everybody involved. We’ll reinvest that knowledge.

Does that mean we can count on more trips in the future?

(Laughs) Let’s just see how this goes. I think it’ll be great – and if that’s the case, there are more places to go.

Photo Courtesy of Millennial Trains Project

Innovation is an elusive ideal, prized as the secret ingredient in economic growth, social progress, and technological acceleration.  Unlocking American innovation is the first step to “winning the future,” according to President Obama.  The stakes are high.

The cross-sector scramble to out-innovate our rivals has given birth to an entire industry, one that breaks innovation down into its composite elements and analyzes them for clues and patterns.  Countless case studies, TED talks, and biographies point to a single element – individual creativity – as perhaps the most crucial in sparking innovation.

The connection to innovation has helped transform creativity into a commodity.  Soaring demand for creative talent has fueled the growth of the “creativity-promoting sector .” Writer Austin Kleon sums up the sector’s core message in his book Steal Like an Artist:

“Anyone can be creative if they surround themselves with the right influences, play nice, and work hard.”

It’s a philosophy that is appealingly accessible, and it leads to an exciting conclusion: if every individual is born with creative potential, then every individual is an asset in the race for innovation.

Therefore, every company, organization, and institution is doing all that is possible to harness employee creativity.  Right?

No, of course not.

My first job was with a non-profit that billed itself as a creator of innovative environmental solutions.  As a young graduate eager to change the world, I’d go into staff meetings brimming with new program ideas.  Though the higher-ups didn’t quite match my enthusiasm – “sure, feel free to do it on your own” was their standard response – I was determined to bring these ideas to life.

Unfortunately, every attempt I made to do so ended in failure.  With no guidance or feedback, I grew discouraged.  As time passed, my new ideas withered in numbers and ambition until, eventually, there were none left.   In this office, creativity was the private domain of managers and directors.

Why would any organization ignore an asset – the creative potential of its staff – instead of leveraging it?

Sure, you could chalk it up to ignorance.  If a company is unaware of the link between creativity and winning the future, it wouldn’t know the first thing about channeling its team’s innate potential.

But with management sites chock full of articles like “5 TED Talks Every CEO Should Watch,” the ignorance excuse is a shaky one.  And if you think laziness is a factor, there are plenty of consultants eager to transform any business or organization into a place of great creativity.  They’ll do all the hard work for you.

So what really stops a company, especially one that brands itself as innovative, from making staff creativity a top priority?

The answer is fear.  Many people and institutions are afraid of widespread creativity.  After all, creativity subverts the status quo, which makes it seem like a threat.  For a company averse to uncertainty, weaving creativity into the organizational culture might seem futile, distracting, meaningless, or destructive.

Treating creativity as a threat instead of a key to innovation can severely limit profit and impact.  Thankfully, though, for every point of resistance, there’s a logical rebuttal.  Here’s how it all breaks down.

#1.  Only Management Knows Enough to Be Creative

The Fear

When critical decisions are handled exclusively by managers, giving creative leeway to non-managers is pointless.  Only the [CEO, executive director, agency head] understands the operation from every angle; inviting uninformed people to contribute outside of their areas of expertise is not helpful.  Asking junior staff to come up with new ideas would be an exercise in futility.

The Reality

In its book Creative Collaborations, the Helsinki Design Lab explains that, when “you gather together the very best experts in a given field, they are likely to share roughly similar assumptions, methods, and goals—because they will typically share the same training, experience, and social identity. This commonality can be a weakness that blinds the homogenous group to other possibilities.”

However, “a group of diverse individuals—all intelligent, but with different backgrounds, perspectives, and ways of working…will search more expansively for possible solutions, and if the best solution is to be found in an outlying area, one of them is much more likely to discover it there.”

Zahra Ebrahim, founder of think tank archiTEXT, relies on diverse perspectives as a critical part of her work.  “We look for divergence – I want the person whose opinions couldn’t possibly be more different than my own,” says Ebrahim.

She means it, too.  When the Ontario government contracted archiTEXT to co-create policy on poverty reduction, Ebrahim gathered a group of politicians and at-risk youth to hammer out the legislation together.  “Bringing together the unusual suspects” was a strategic way to build robust policy.

When you treat diversity of opinion and experience as an asset, it becomes one.

#2.  Creativity Is the Enemy of Productivity 

The Fear

Companies and organizations are hard-pressed to be as effective and efficient as possible.  This means doing more with less.  When you’re dedicating all of your limited resources to the (single, double, or triple) bottom line, there’s not a lot of wiggle room for experimentation.  Giving staff space to be creative would only distract them from their targets and muddle everything up in the process. Besides, if you have a proven business model, why deviate from what works?

The Reality

When a company has a system in place for activating the creativity of its staff, its productivity goes through the roof.

Take a look at MyVoice AAC.  The tech start-up makes apps that give people with speech disabilities a customizable voice.  Because the company must deliver innovation in order to survive, it utilizes a straightforward, three-phase system for harnessing staff creativity.

When faced with a creative decision, the entire MyVoice team immerses itself in the subject matter, spending dozens of hours interacting with people who have speech disabilities, pouring through relevant articles, and analyzing competitor’s products.

CEO Alex Levy says, “during the immersion process, it’s important for everyone to capture all new ideas without judging them.  Whenever a new idea comes up, even if it’s on the road or late at night, we note it down without censoring it.”

Ultimately, this triggers what Levy calls “an explosion of ideas.” The team now has access to hundreds of new ideas, which could focus on anything from product design to organizational structure.

“Once we have our explosion of ideas, we begin a process of ruthless distillation and crystallization.  Everyone – the team, collaborators, users – critiques every single idea.  The heartiest ideas survive.” Those are the ones that Levy’s team brings to life.

Creativity, therefore, can be structured – and a company that has a creative system in place is actually able to do more with less.  For proof, look to what the small team at MyVoice has achieved.  With thousands of users around the world, the company has become a major player in assistive technology in less than three years.

#3.  Inspiration is Fickle

The Fear

Ideas are like bolts of lightning; they strike entirely of their own accord.  If, by some divine inspiration, you come up with a great idea, you’re lucky.  You can’t force creativity, so don’t count on it happening again.

The Reality

“Artists don’t have the luxury to wait around for inspiration.  There are bills to pay,” says Toronto-based musician and artist Michele Kaye.  Like any professional artist, Kaye’s career depends on the control of her creative ability.  “People view creativity as something that you turn on and off, but if you’re producing art as your job, you need your creativity to be constant and free-flowing.”

The ability to tap into personal creative potential – instead of passively waiting for inspiration – is a skill accessible to us all.  It requires training and dedication, but it’s something anyone can develop and master.

One of the great barriers to being actively creative is a fear of being vulnerable.  Subjecting something you’ve created to the judgment of others is a frightening endeavor.  That’s why Alex Levy strives for “a hippie commune vibe” during idea generation.  “When people feel like anything goes, they are comfortable channeling creative ideas,” he says.  And fortunately, according to Michele Kaye, the more often you share what you’ve created, “the easier it becomes to be vulnerable.”

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Creativity isn’t a science, but it’s no longer a great mystery, either. There’s enough knowledge and expertise out there to transform any workplace into a creative one.  Too many companies pay lip service to creativity while neglecting the creative potential of their own people.

For a company to be truly innovative, it has to actively translate the creative ideal into reality.  Creativity is fun – let’s take it seriously.

Photo Courtesy of OpenSourceWay (Creative Commons/ Flickr)

Rural issues dominate the discussions regarding India’s development. Without a doubt, the needs of rural India are great.

As per the 2011 Census, more than 833 million people live in rural areas. This is a staggering statistic because of the challenges and needs it implies.

What is even more startling is the fact that approximately 7.2% of India’s rural population – so-called tribal communities – fare worse than the other 92.8% because of its official government classification and colonial legacy.

Under British rule in India, the Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 pronounced (or “notified”) people from certain tribes as “criminal” from birth – a lifelong stigma to a person’s identity. This Act was repealed in 1952, five years after Indian Independence. It “denotif[ied]” these same tribal communities. They were no longer criminals.  Demographics show that there are 60 million people that fall under the category of India’s 315 nomadic and 198 denotified tribes.

Though more than 60 years have passed since the Criminal Tribes Act of 1952, India’s nomadic and denotified tribal (or, NT and DNT) communities still face tremendous developmental, economic and social challenges to catch up with the speed of India’s modernity while achieving sustainable livelihoods. Some of these challenges, it can be argued, are even greater than their rural counterparts.

Even within Indian government and society, there is little knowledge of tribal communities. Schoolchildren are not taught the particulars of how, when and why certain communities were singled out and granted a second-class citizen’s status.

Vinod Jhunjhunwala, executive vice president of the U.S. chapter of the Ekal Vidyalaya Foundation, notes that there is a real disconnect between mainstream society and tribal communities. Typically, tribal peoples are only acknowledged during election time, when politicians come to their communities to make promises and get votes. But once election time has passed, tribal communities and promises made are long forgotten. It is out of this fact that Ekal was founded, to make sure tribal peoples do not remain invisible in India’s landscape.

Vimla Thakkar, administrative chief at Vicharta Samuday Samarthan Manch (VSSM), clarifies that the term “nomadic and denotified tribes” is to be understood as wandering communities, moving from one village to the next, in search of a livelihood.

Thakkar says, “Popular belief is that their lives would come to a halt if their wandering had to cease. As a result, they never became part of any village or a rooted society.”

VSSM is a grassroots organization working for the empowerment of NTs and DNTs in the state of Gujarat, India, with programs that address livelihoods, housing, education and the acquisition of official documentation. VSSM was launched and grew from a seemingly simple question: where were the Vaadee-Madaree and gypsy communities? These communities were once symbols to the outside world of an exotic India populated by snake charmers and colorful caravans. This search led the VSSM team to learn more about the plight of Gujarati NT and DNT communities.

In its research, VSSM has found that NT and DNT settlements are usually 1-2 kilometers away from the nearest village’s boundaries, and that the most immediate needs of these communities are social acceptance and sustainable employment with a stable income. Though the Ekal team works with tribal communities throughout India and not necessarily just NT and DNT communities, their findings echo VSSM’s.  For instance, they also stress the importance of access to clean water and reliable energy for these communities.

VSSM’s research in Gujarat has shed light on the degree to which NT and DNT communities are overlooked. In 2005, it found that schemes by the Developing Communities Welfare Board had reached no more than 500 families over the previous five years. One particular oversight was the fact that NT and DNT populations did not have the legal documentation (i.e., birth certificate) required to vote, get food from public distribution centers or purchase land. VSSM lobbied the Board to design more inclusive, effective schemes. As a result, the Manav Garima Yojna scheme was born to the benefit of below poverty line NT and DNT communities. They were granted voter ID cards, ration cards and residential land plots, as well as school scholarships for their children.

Both VSSM and Ekal have taken pro-active approaches that involve working alongside tribal communities. The numbers tell a story of holistic impact that started in one place but has had far-reaching effects. VSSM has reportedly reached more than 22,500 families from more than 1,000 settlements in nine districts with its bridge and government schools, home constructions, provision of voter ID and ration cards, and access to water and electricity. Ekal estimates that with its education, healthcare and farming programs, it has reached over one million people.

What organizations like VSSM and Ekal have achieved highlight the weak political will to empower tribal communities. Strides have been made though: in 2005, the Government of India established the National Commission for Denotified, Nomadic and Semi-Nomadic Tribes to study the country’s tribal communities.

It is too easy to group tribal communities, particularly those falling in the NT and DNT categories, with the rest of rural India. But the daily lives of these marginalized tribal communities indicate that their status and needs are not in the public spotlight, and cannot be classified as the typical rural Indian experience.

All photos are courtesy of rajkumar1220/Creative Commons.

Hop, skip and jumping along one of the water pipes

“There’s so much poverty to be seen here and at the same time so much joy and happiness.” This is how photographer Rob van Kessel describes his two-day journey along the giant pipes that supply the growing metropolis of Mumbai with water. From lakes high in India’s Western Ghats, these water mains snake their way down into the city like steel-encased rivers, impossible not to notice.

By the time these kids grow up, the pipes will likely have been replaced.

The pipes provide the slum dwellers living along their flanks with water, a road, a playground for children, and sometimes just a place to hang out. Soon these pipeline settlers will be relocated, however – indeed, many have already been evicted, their huts demolished – as the government attempts to overhaul a water supply system that has failed to keep up with the times.

A good place for some quiet contemplation

Most of these water pipes – or “trunks” as they are sometimes referred to – are old and corroding. Some are relics of the British, who laid them down around 100 years ago to provide for a very different city than the one that exists today, massive and teeming with people.

Taking the high road

The water pipes wind their way through countryside, fields, suburbs and shantytowns. According to one source, Mumbai’s pipelines cover an area of 2,400 kilometers (1,491 mi), above and below ground. And, on their way to the sprawling metropolis, the main pipes, like the seven seen here, run for 160 kilometers (99 mi) and range between 24 and a gigantic 108 inches in diameter.

Crossing the water

Most people in Mumbai don’t have the luxury of taking water for granted. Even when the monsoon season provides enough rainwater to fill the reservoirs, the supply, which is regulated by the municipal corporation of Mumbai (the BMC), is rationed. This is mostly due to deficiencies in the supply system, with leakages in the old pipe system a major issue. Taps that rely solely on this official source only run for about six hours a day (much less, it’s said, in some areas).

(Photo: Esha Chhabra) 

Once you see the Himalayas, you’re hooked.

The sheer immensity of nature is awe-inspiring, to say the least.  It also puts a lot in perspective, including my miniature 5’8” (1.5 m) frame against the backdrop of peaks at 7,000 meters plus.  Here, however, nature will always win.  The odds are well against us.

At the base of these beauties, the nature is foreboding, majestic, and spiritual.  Perhaps, it’s also where they’re located, wedged between Bhutan, India, Nepal, China, and Pakistan, that makes them so exotic and intangible.

But 60 years ago, Edmund Hillary, a New Zealander, decided to challenge nature.  With a local climber, Tenzing Norgay, and a team of more than 360 porters, 20 sherpa guides, a dozen climbers, and 18 tons of food and equipment, he was able to climb the tallest of the Himalayas.

And they succeeded: Norgay has been photographed at the summit of Everest holding the flags of the UN, the UK, Nepal and India.  They climbed 8,848 meters together – a feat of humankind and of friendship.

A sign of power, heroism, and aspiration, some have dismissed the efforts of mountaineers to reach the summit of Mt. Everest as simply selfish. And the 60th anniversary has sparked a debate about our relationship with nature – should we let it be or should we continue to fight it? But, as humans we want to dominate, we want to challenge ourselves, and we continue to leave our mark in the most remote places.

Images have surfaced in National Geographic of a line of mountaineers crowding the route up, leaving behind waste, tools, and trash.  The Indian and Nepali army reportedly removed more than 4 tons of rubbish from the mountain – just this season. Other local mindful mountaineers have begun the Eco Everest Expedition, which cleans up trash from base camp to the summit.  They’ve gathered 13 tons of garbage.  That includes frozen human waste.  As we’ve learned, nothing really decays up there.  They’ve also discovered frozen corpses of unsuccessful missions.

It has become such a popular quest that the Nepali government will have to reassess their system.  Should they grant everyone access – everyone who can pay the $10,000 permit to try the ascent?  Should they distinguish between those truly skilled and physically fit to those simply trying to defy the odds? And have the local Nepali people truly benefitted from this tourism?  There are no simple answers -especially when you’re working with government officials.

It gets better.  Now, there is talk of putting a ladder at the final steps of the ascent.  Referred to as the Hillary Step (after Edmund Hillary), it’s a sheer vertical killer of 40 ft. of rock at 29,000 ft.  It’s a bit inconvenient.  So why not add a ladder to the mountain?

Yes, the anniversary of man’s first successful ascent up Mt. Everest should be celebrated.  It was a climatic moment – literally.  But it was also the beginning of a wave of tourism that is questionable.  We share an odd relation with nature – we admire it, yet we also harm it.  So, why not use this anniversary as a turning point?

Why not admire its beauty from afar, from the base.  Why not live in harmony.  Why not simply have respect, and not the greed to dominate.

Edmund Hillary passed away in 2008.  The mountain still remains.  That will be the story for all of us.

Given the other reports of shrinking glaciers in the Himalayas, the result of climate change and greater pollution, why not we celebrate the beauty of the mountain by letting it breathe freely.

After all, we can’t breathe up there for very long.  So, let it breathe – free of our waste and our invasion.

This originally ran in the Ventura County Star. 

by David Bornstein, Fixes

When Parker Sheffy, a first-year teacher in the Bronx Leadership Academy II, a high school in the South Bronx, talks shop with friends who are also new teachers, he often hears about the problems they are facing: students not showing up to class on time, not understanding their work, not doing homework. “I’m thinking: I don’t have that problem… I don’t have that problem…” Sheffy recalled. In his ninth grade integrated algebra class, he estimates that 80 to 90 percent are on track to pass the Regents exam, more than double last year’s figure.

“But I have to remind myself that this is not just because of me,” Sheffy said. “I’m one of six people who have created this class.”

Sheffy’s school is one of three New York City public schools working with an organization called Blue Engine, which recruits and places recent college graduates as full-time teaching assistants in high schools, helps teachers shift to a small-group classroom model with a ratio of one instructor for roughly every six students, uses data tracking to generate rapid-fire feedback so problems can be quickly addressed, and provides weekly instruction in “social cognition” classes, where students are introduced to skills and concepts — such as the difference between a “fixed” and a “growth” mind-set — that can help them grasp their untapped potential.

Blue Engine also targets algebra, geometry and English language arts in the ninth and 10th grades because performance in these so-called “gateway” courses is associated with college success.

Despite its modest size and short track record, Blue Engine has already seized the attention of educators and attracted notice fromPresident Obama. Last year, in its schools, as a result of the program, the number of students who met the “college ready” standard — scoring above 80 on their Regents exams in algebra, geometry or English language arts — nearly tripled, from 49 to 140.

Katherine Callaghan, the principal of the Bronx Leadership Academy II, who has worked in the school for more than 10 years, said: “Blue Engine has moved a huge number of our students in a way that nothing else that we’ve ever tried has been able to do.” She added: “Last year we had a 44 percent pass rate on the integrated algebra Regents, with two kids scoring above an 80. This year, we’re on track for 75 or 80 percent passing, with 20 kids hitting the college-ready mark. We’re close to doubling our pass rate and multiplying by a factor of 10 our college-ready rate.”

Gains like this are not often seen in education. So it’s worth taking note. What’s happening?

Blue Engine was born in the wake of a disappointing eight-year educational intervention led by its founder, Nick Ehrmann. And it shows. There is a refreshing humility baked into its model — particularly in the core idea that teachers need lots more support than they are given to do what they are expected to do. Ehrmann got his own start in education as a Teach For America corps member, teaching fourth and fifth grades at Emery Elementary School, in a tough neighborhood in Washington, D.C. He wanted his students in class 312 to make it through college, so working with the “I Have a Dream Foundation,” he raised over $1 million to provide them with tutoring, mentoring and scholarships over several years.

After he left teaching to pursue a doctorate in sociology at Princeton, Ehrmann’s Project 312 became the basis for his thesis. For years, he tracked the students’ progress against a comparison group from the same school. “I fully intended to arrogantly study what our nonprofit was getting right,” he recalled. “After six years, I found that our work had not had a shred of impact on academic achievement.”

Half of the students went on to graduate from high school; almost all of them enrolled in a higher education program; to date, not one has earned a bachelor’s degree; only one has a certificate from a vocational program.

That experience led Ehrmann to redouble his efforts focusing on a question of paramount importance for social equity and the long-term economic health of the nation: How do we help low-income students succeed in college? The current unemployment rate tells a powerful story: it’s 4.5 percent for college graduates, 8.3 percent for high school graduates, and 12.4 percent for those without a diploma. Now consider: only 8 students out of every 100 from the bottom income quartile in the United States earn bachelor’s degrees by their mid-20s (pdf).

There are many causes. But in recent years, researchers have come to agree that a big one is a lack of rigor at the high school level. “The most important pre-collegiate indicator of your success in college is the academic intensity of your high school curriculum,” says Clifford Adelman, a senior associate at the Institute for Higher Education Policy, who has conducted seminal research on the issue (pdf). “One step beyond Algebra 2 in high school will double the odds that you will finish college.”

David Conley, Director of the Center for Educational Policy Research at the University of Oregon, adds that the key is not just mastering material, but taking courses that teach you how to “organize and integrate information, think deeper and take ownership and control of learning.”

How could we make traditional high schools more academically rigorous places for many more kids? Ehrmann researched a number of models, including the Match High School, a charter school in Boston that gets impressive results by providing two hours of tutoring in small groups each day. In 2010, Blue Engine began working to see if a similar approach could be integrated more broadly into public schools — to close the gap between students being college eligible and college ready.

“The biggest open secret in American education is that we are shoveling kids off to higher education without preparing them to succeed,” Ehrmann said. Indeed,three quarters of students attending the City University of New York in 2011 required remedial instruction in reading, writing or math. That translates into a lot of dreams deferred, because students who are assigned remedial coursework in college — for which they earn no credit but pay full tuition — rarely complete their degrees (pdf, p. 63).