image

Britney Foster, MDiv ‘19

Britney Foster is a second-year master of divinity degree candidate from Los Angeles. She is a social worker, an educator, and a minister.

“Recently, when I was looking for part-time jobs to help pay my rent, my friend had an idea. She was like, ‘What if we started a business together, working on discipline outcomes for black boys?’ Now we’re using the Innovation Lab at Harvard to create a consulting firm.”

Answering the Call

I feel like God, in his perfect will for our lives, sees things we don’t. The choice for me to come to HDS was a huge sacrifice. My friends and family were like, “That’s awesome that you got into Harvard, but you’re in your 30s. You’re on track to move up in your career. For three years, you’re not going to take a salary? And you’re going to take out another loan? You already took out loans twice.” But now they see how doors are being opened. It’s humbling to see their faith grow because of my obedience to God’s call.

Black Boys in School

Before coming to HDS, I worked in L.A. as a dean of students—basically an assistant principal—for three schools, kindergarten to sixth grade. I worked with a lot of students of color in the inner city. They were smoking weed on campus, bringing BB guns, knives, blades, or brass knuckles.

I saw the trend of black boys getting sent out of classrooms and being suspended at a higher rate than other boys. I wanted to know what to do to provide alternatives. My first year, we did a lot of suspending. But my second year in the position, we significantly reduced the amount of suspensions by implementing alternatives like Saturday school and also providing more education for teachers.

Here in Boston, I work at a high school. Getting here was very spirit-led. I applied to 10 jobs, and this was the only one that I interviewed with. I have felt close to God here because I’ve been stretched in this job. I do individual counseling and I also run a group for a few black and brown boys who were caught smoking weed. I created the curriculum for the group. I’m doing drug counseling with these students. I’m able to talk to them and say, “The real reason I want to talk with you guys is because you’re smoking a lot, and this means there are some other things going on under the surface. You’re trying to avoid some stuff, you don’t want to feel some stuff. We don’t have to rush into those conversations, but that’s where this group is going. I want to get to know you. What’s going on under the surface?”

The boys have all dramatically reduced their amount of smoking, and some have committed to not smoke at all, and a lot of stuff has come to the surface. One of the boys fought with his dad because of the way the dad was treating his mom. He said, “I’m smoking because I don’t like the way my dad and mom are and it makes me feel better.” Another student came up to me and said, “You know, Miss, I think I’m depressed and I would like to talk with you individually.” And so I visit with him after school one day a week to get to the bottom of what’s causing him to be depressed.

Over winter break, one of my student’s best friends was murdered, and I talked to him over the phone. These boys deal with some heavy stuff. While I’m at Harvard I need to get out to remind myself why I’m here. I’m here for them. I’m here for those conversations where they’re like, “Wait, Miss, you go to Harvard?” And I’m like, “Oh, yeah, I go to Harvard,” and they’re able to see what going to Harvard looks like.

My vernacular changes with them. I can speak their language and say, “We’s cool,” or, “Oh, like, you smoke wit’ your bros? What’s up?” I can say that and then immediately switch my conversation to a different, professional conversation.

Black Leaders

Recently, when I was looking for part-time jobs to help pay my rent, my friend had an idea. She was like, “What if we started a business together, working on discipline outcomes for black boys?” Now we’re using the Innovation Lab at Harvard to create a consulting firm. 

I’m taking a class called Black Business Leaders in Entrepreneurship at Harvard Business School. It’s the first time HBS has had a class focusing on black protagonists. It’s phenomenal. Being able to build up an amazing network of black students at Harvard is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. To be in a room with black educated people counters what the media says. It counters what I actually believed myself. It’s empowering.

It’s humbling being here at Harvard. I’m constantly reminding myself that I’m not here just for myself. I’m bringing with me so many people from back home, from D.C., from Chicago, from Cleveland, from L.A., my nieces, my nephews, my god kids. They’re with me here, too. I use Snapchat with them so they’re constantly watching what I’m doing.

Education & Divinity

When I visited Harvard for the first time, I was looking into a doctorate program in education. Walking on campus, trying to find where to go, I kept telling people, “I’m looking for the school of education,” and people kept pointing me in a certain direction. Before I knew it, someone told me, “Honey, you’re far from the school of education. It’s on the other side of campus.” I said, “But people literally pointed me right here!“ Then I thought about how I’m involved in ministry, so I asked, "Where’s the school of divinity?” She said, “You’re next door to it.”

When I walked into Andover Hall, Professor Click walked by, and we started talking. She said, “You should consider applying to the School.” I said, “No, I already have a master’s degree. I don’t need another master’s. I want to get my doctorate. I’m involved in education.” She said again, “You should consider applying here.” I kept thinking, “No. I don’t want to apply here.” I knew I wanted to find a way to bring together the study of education and ministry, because I’m a minister. I lead a Bible study in my house. I helped start a church. I helped start a Bible study ministry in college. But professionally I’m an educator, and so it made sense to get a doctorate of education.

Professor Click was persistent. I thanked her, but in my head I was thinking, “I’m not applying here.”

After talking with her, I went over to the school of education, had a conversation with the admissions staff, and it was great. But on my flight back to L.A., I felt some wrestling going on. I felt God saying, "The divinity school is where I want you.” It didn’t make any sense to me.

In the end, I trusted. I applied to divinity school with no background in religious studies. I had majored in sociology for my undergrad, got a master’s in social work, worked in social work and in education. Yes, I did ministry, too, but I had no theoretical or philosophical background. Coming to divinity school took a lot of faith and trust. Things have been unfolding every step of the way.

For the last ten years I’ve actually dreamed of opening a Christian nonprofit after-school program. At HDS I want to take courses in education and really hone in on the faith component. I want to know what drives people’s faith.

My Faith

God is the reason I wake up. God is the reason I go to sleep, the reason that I have a life. God is my hope. God is the reason why I took a huge leap of faith leaving my full-time job and benefits, retirement, and to step away from my career and to go to divinity school. God is my peace. God is my therapy. He is my therapist. I find the most comfort in Him.

Lots of things that I would do in L.A. to cope and destress have been stripped from me since moving here, and so, God is the only one left. I feel very dependent on the Lord, and that’s the reason I’m here at Harvard. I’m here because I felt called by God to come here and because, out of obedience, I came.

Photo: Laura Krueger