Elliot Washor's TGIF 06.06.2025

“Are You With Me Now” – A.J. Ryder

This past Saturday, we held our first Harbor Freight Fellows (HFF) Summit in Los Angeles, hosted at the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California. The setting couldn’t have been more fitting. Metro Water is facing a growing urgency—not only in meeting the region’s ongoing water needs but also in addressing a looming shortage of trades and technical workers. Nearly 40% of their staff are skilled tradespeople and technicians, many of whom are nearing retirement. This is high-priority work.

It was inspiring to be welcomed by Metro Water and to see both current and former Fellows, along with their mentors, show up and stand behind the HFF mission. Their presence alone demonstrated the commitment and potential of the Harbor Freight Fellows program—and what’s possible when we take real-world learning seriously.

Just a few days earlier, our visit to Model Z Housing in Watts connected us with yet another industry in crisis: housing. The need is immense, yet countless barriers still prevent young people from accessing work they’re eager to be part of. I can’t quite wrap my head around it—why do we make it so hard for youth to engage meaningfully in industries that so clearly need them and that they want to be part of?

Here’s something that’s been on my mind lately. The next time you're out driving, take a look around. You might be sharing the road with a 15½-year-old. That’s right—in California, teens can get a provisional permit at 15½, and a provisional license at 16, often without an adult in the car. By 18, they’re fully licensed. So here’s my question: If we’re comfortable letting young people operate two-ton vehicles on busy roads, why are we so hesitant to let them into real-world work environments—especially when they’re guided by adult mentors?

Where’s the greater liability? Cars are incredibly dangerous. And yet, somehow, we’ve normalized this risk while sidelining opportunities for meaningful workplace learning. It’s nonsensical. As adults, we create laws and systems that send contradictory messages to our youth. Our education policies often reinforce a lack of trust in young people rather than creating pathways for them to learn and contribute.

If we want different outcomes, we need to change the system—not the students.

So next time you’re driving, glance to your left and right. That young person behind the wheel might be the same one we’re telling is too inexperienced for a shot at the real world. Maybe it’s time we rethink who’s actually ready—and who’s holding them back.

A few more things about our Harbor Freight Fellows who showed up at the Summit

Both current and former Fellows in attendance—young women and men—shared candid reflections about their journeys. Some had gone to college, only to regret their decision. Their engineering courses turned out to be all theory and book learning, with little to no hands-on experience. Disillusioned, they were now eager to pursue trade schools that offered practical skills and real-world learning.

Others had already found meaningful employment. These individuals were hired by employers who valued their skills, character, and passion for their work. HFF Fellow Huayo exemplified this path—earning a permanent position through demonstrated competence and love for the job.

Then there was Dominic, a student who openly disliked school but found fulfillment in his Harbor Freight Fellows work, which allowed him to be entrepreneurial outside of the traditional classroom. He had even started his own motorsport company called Stanick. When I asked if it was his last name, he laughed and said, “Nah, I made it up. It just sounds good.” My kind of kid.

Later in the week, I attended other events where “real-world learning” was the buzzword. But something was missing—students. They weren’t there. And the so-called real-world learning programs? They were mere add-ons, not integral parts of the educational experience. And therein lies the problem.

A TYBO moment

One of the most rewarding outcomes of The Year Before Opening (TYBO) retreat for emerging principals at Dennis’s “Cabin in the Sky” was an unexpected invitation from Carrie to visit Edgecombe County this past February. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why I was going—but the best part of the visit came as a complete surprise.

Fast forward to yesterday: Carrie sent Chris, Mayra, and me a video about Jess Parker, a Jeanes Fellow I met during that trip. As I wrote months ago in a TGIF, Jess is incredible. Through our conversations, I learned about the historical connection between Jeanes Fellows and Rosenwald Schools. That connection sparked an idea: What if we could reimagine Rosenwald Schools through the lens of B-Unbound?

The video Carrie shared is a powerful piece on Jess and the work of the Jeanes Fellows. I tend to be critical—not only of work beyond the BPL network but of our own efforts as well. So when I say there’s something truly different and deeply important about what the Jeanes Fellows are doing, I mean it. Their work deserves serious attention.

Our Board member David Gersten continues to align and iterate Arts, Letters and Numbers this summer as a B-Unbound Hub. Great stuff.

“Personalized learning experiences that connect youth with professional mentors in fields such as the arts, trades, and design. Programs like B-Unbound and Harbor Freight Fellows pair students with working practitioners to support project-based learning, career exploration, and personal development. These relationships are often long-term and grounded in mutual trust and collaboration.”

I’ll be there in June/July.

“The score never interested me, only the game.” — Mae West

I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of discovering the lowest common denominator that could drive the most significant changes in educational practice and policy. I’m not sure if such a universal key actually exists—but the pursuit, the game, keeps me engaged and alert.

Recently, I had a conversation with John Fischetti, who floated a compelling idea: what if we focused solely on integrating Youth Voice and Leaving as core measures? Neither of these is commonly tracked, and both are deeply qualitative. But maybe that’s the point. By centering our research with youth on these dimensions, we might finally get closer to identifying what truly matters—meaningful measures that reflect lived experience rather than abstract data points.

One more thing about the score and the game.

Last night offered a perfect illustration of Mae West’s words. In Game 1 of the NBA Finals, the Pacers trailed on the scoreboard the entire game. Not once were they ahead—until there were just 0.3 seconds left. Then, Tyrese Haliburton nailed a 19-foot jumper just before the buzzer. They won.

Mae has a point and if you carry it to the limits of its meaning, who cares about the score. Somehow, they won the game.

Plenty, plenty, bye, bye