Erin Gruwell’s contract was not renewed after her fourth year—the administration said she was “too intense.” But by then, she had already won. The students she was never supposed to save had saved themselves.
That’s when the idea was born. She asked the students to write—not essays, but their own stories. Anonymously. No grades. No judgment. They could write about anything: fear, love, violence, dreams. They could leave the journals on her desk after class, and she would write back.
They read Zlata’s Diary , the story of a girl surviving the siege of Sarajevo, and wrote to the author. She wrote back. They raised money to bring Miep Gies, the woman who hid Anne Frank, to California. When the elderly Miep told them, “You are the real heroes,” hardened gang members wept. the freedom writers
Two years earlier, Wilson High had been a prestigious, predominantly white school. But following a voluntary desegregation program, the school’s demographics had flipped. Erin’s “English 1” class was not the advanced placement track she’d expected; it was a dumping ground for students the system had already labeled “unteachable.” They were Black, Latino, Cambodian, and Vietnamese kids—gang members, deportees, refugees, and foster children. They hated school, hated each other, and were far more familiar with the crack of gunfire than the crack of a book spine.
Here is the complete story of The Freedom Writers . In the fall of 1994, a twenty-three-year-old idealist named Erin Gruwell walked into Room 203 at Woodrow Wilson High School in Long Beach, California. She was fresh-faced, wore pearls, and carried a trunk full of leather-bound classics she assumed her new students would love. She had no idea she was walking into a war zone. Erin Gruwell’s contract was not renewed after her
In their sophomore year, their journals became a book: The Freedom Writers Diary . In their junior year, they all passed the Advanced Placement English exam—a first for any “at-risk” class at Wilson High. In their senior year, every single one of them graduated. Many were the first in their families to do so. They went on to college, to law school, to teaching, to social work.
“Anne Frank hid for two years,” Erin told them. “You hide every day just to get home.” She asked the students to write—not essays, but
But the school administration was not supportive. The English department head told Erin she was “coddling” the students and refused to give her new textbooks. The principal was annoyed by her after-hours tutoring and her habit of taking kids to the opera or to see Schindler’s List . To pay for books and field trips, Erin worked three jobs: teaching by day, selling hotel switchboard equipment by night, and braiding rugs on weekends.