Nicole Lynn Lewis founded Generation Hope a decade ago, and in the pandemic, its role providing emotional and financial support to young parents attending college has never been more important.

Washington, DC – October 29, 2020. Capital Area Asset Builders (CAAB) is proud to announce that CAAB has been selected for a 2nd year in a row by the Catalogue for Philanthropy as One of the Best Nonprofit Organizations in the Washington, DC metropolitan region.  

The Catalogue for Philanthropy’s vision is to transform the Greater Washington community — turning watchers into doers, and bystanders into givers — and make it a better place to live, for everyone. The Catalogue believes in the power of small nonprofits to spark big change. As the only locally-focused guide to giving, the Catalogue’s goal is to create visibility for its selected charities, fuel their growth, and create a movement for social good in our region.

Until March, Gabriel and Constancia Merrill had both worked to provide food to seniors, she preparing the meals and he delivering them.

But now, the couple has found themselves on the receiving end of food assistance after losing those jobs.

Connection. Belonging. A sense of community. These are critical to students feeling like they are a part of their college community. Yet, far too many parenting college students feel alone on their campuses. Generation Hope’s national student parent survey found that 40% of student parents felt isolated at their institutions. 

As colleges and universities work to enhance student success, they frequently use traditional outcome-based metrics—such as graduation rates, year-to-year retention, and post-graduation employment—to define that “success.” These measurements, which throughout this report we refer to as traditional metrics, are often prioritized across higher education given their impact on and consequences toward institutional decision-making, benchmarking, and most importantly, funding. While these quantitative metrics can provide a useful—albeit limited—view into student experiences inside and outside of the classroom, they often focus on first-time, full-time, degree/certificate-seeking students, who are more likely to be found at four-year institutions.

By 7:45 a.m., A’Ja Ross, 26, has helped her son, Ti’Andre Williams, log in to his fourth-grade class at Perrywood Elementary School in Largo, Md. She stays close by in case he has any trouble understanding an assignment.

Between his reading, math and science classes, Ross carves out time for her own homework from the five courses she’s taking at Prince George’s Community College. When the school day ends at 2 p.m. for her son, Ross dives right back into her assignments before starting work in the advising office of the community college at 4 p.m.

The first college in the United States, Harvard University (then Harvard College), was founded in 1636, and its legacy and history are bound up with the exploitation of slave labor. The College of William & Mary, founded in 1693, came next, funded in part by its own tobacco plantation. These early colonial colleges cemented the blueprint for the higher ed system that we know today. 

When I graduated with a bachelor’s degree from William & Mary in 2003, I desperately needed a job. I was the mother of a 4-year-old daughter, and I was consumed by worries about child care, the car note for my used Honda Civic and saving for my own apartment. In addition, I had $30,000 in student debt.

In recent years, as U.S. student loan debt climbed to $1.6 trillion, the country has finally begun to talk about the punishing financial costs of obtaining a college degree. But the singular toll on students like me — Black parents — continues to go largely unremarked upon.