Alumni Profile
Jerry Nowell
Jerry Nowell graduated from The School in Rose Valley in 1938. He was a member of the second class to graduate and sent his three children to SRV as well.
It is difficult to know which of the myriad of events and people making up one's life have a lasting impact. I am convinced, however, that The School In Rose Valley has played a major role in forming my interests, attitudes and values.
A member of the second class to graduate, I went on to attend Swarthmore High School, spent two years in the Navy during WWII, and received three degrees from Temple University. I then had an eventful career in public education as a teacher and an administrator, in Philadelphia and in the suburbs.
My approach to all of these experiences was grounded in the philosophy of Grace Rotzel and the life skills I learned from teachers like Eloise Holmes, Sherwood Norman and Mr. Rawson. Much credit is also due to Margaret Rawson for helping me overcome dyslexia.
Our parents not only sent my brothers and me to Rose Valley, but were themselves an important part of the school's early years. My father, Foster, helped build the Main and Rawson buildings, and was the school's handyman after he retired. My mother, Peg, was the secretary and then taught the Oldest Group for seventeen years. My children all attended The School In Rose Valley and went on to successful service careers: Nancy teaches sex education to individuals with developmental disabilities; Connie works with special needs pre-school children and their families; and Paul teaches art in a New York City charter school. As for my nephew Mike, also a Rose Valley graduate, his accomplishments as a teacher at the school are legendary.
All of this provides some context for why I landed in prison. It was 1989 and I was about to retire from the Rose Tree Media School District. I was looking for invigoration rather than vegetation when an announcement soliciting volunteers to teach prisoners caught my eye. After working with middle school kids most of my life, I figured this would be a "piece of cake."
At a training weekend I learned the program was called Thresholds because its goal was to open doors to a new way of life. A former inmate, Milton Burglass, devised it as his doctoral dissertation at Harvard. While a prisoner "Micky" observed that the greatest failing of his fellow inmates was their inability to make sound decisions. His system is aimed at helping clients to think, not react. It consists of six steps: understand the situation, set a goal, think of possibilities, evaluate them, pick one and act on it.
The program consists of ten weekly, one on one, sessions lasting about two hours. Concurrently the clients come together for classes designed to reinforce skills and promote interaction. Over the years variations on this theme have been used to accommodate different situations.
Started in Bucks County in 1972, Thresholds has spread to many prisons in the Northeast including Chester County and the State of Delaware. Volunteers introduced the program at the Delaware County Prison in 1975 and it has been taught there continuously ever since. When the state prison opened in Chester in 1998 it was designed to help rehabilitate men with addictions (drug and alcohol related crimes are the most common). Thresholds was a natural fit, and we began teaching there in 1999. Last summer we brought our program to the Delaware County Juvenile Detention Center, adapting methods and materials to serve these teenage boys and girls.
In the past fourteen years I have had clients who were businessmen, con men, swindlers, singers, lawyers, pushers, politicians, prostitutes and an airplane pilot. The vast majority of these men and women have been respectful, receptive and grateful.
An essential element in our success is that both clients and teachers are volunteers. People who want to teach in a prison tend to be unique, eclectic, independent and a little nuts. Many are retired but some are fresh out of school. They include a spectrum of religious, political and philosophical persuasions. We have a common purpose, however, to provide prisoners with a tool whereby they can make sound judgments and become productive citizens.
What then does Thresholds have to do with my roots at The School In Rose Valley? It was there I learned, among other things, to think for myself, care about others and have fun. Teaching in prison has built on, and extended that knowledge. I have crossed my own threshold from a hectic career to retirement, from telling others what to do to helping them decide for themselves, from putting out fires to igniting hopes.
