By Tracy Peterson

Bushwick born and bred. A tough neighborhood, a violent family life. This tough-talking, spice-tongued Latina with the rancorous, nervous laugh and tender chocolate-brown pools for eyes that speak pain is Michelle Rivera.

The odds were against her from the very beginning and still are. But chances are she will become a speech therapist through a combination of grit and brains.

Rivera is a single mother of two: a son, Dezavon,7, and a daughter, Kylana,1. Now a junior at Hunter College, Rivera dreams of one day earning a Master's Degree in speech pathology and to provide a loving, stable and safe home for her children.

"I'm simple, I dream of a home where me and my kids are never in need of anything," she says. "I'll never forget as a kid, with my mom I'd hear the ice cream truck come around the corner and I'd beg my mom, just this once, could I get one? Sometimes my mom's answer was `No, we got no money.' This is a situation I would never want to be with my own children.''

Rivera grew up on welfare. Her mother just 19 when she was born. Her father wasn't in the picture for long and left before Rivera was a year old. With no job, no husband and no place to go, her mother turned to welfare.
 
 

Throughout Rivera's life, her mother struggled with powerful emotions and tough economics. Their relationship was often full of conflict. Rivera from infancy was shuttled between home and her grandparents’ apartment. "You know, I think back and try to remember when I was a kid,'' she says, ``and all I can think is, how could she (my mother) do that to me?"

However, Rivera does remember one thing that her mother did preach, and that was that education was important. Her grandparents just reinforced that daily. "It just always stood in the back of my mind,'' she continues, "I know I'm going to finish school."

At 16, Rivera was a year away from graduating high school and pregnant. She told herself just because she was going to have a baby, her life was not over. She was determined to finish school. And she did. She graduated in 1993--right on time with all of her classmates.

Even before she got pregnant, she began to dream about finishing her education at Hunter College, known to be among the most competitive four-year colleges in the CUNY system. A guidance counselor discouraged her, but an English teacher insisted she should try. "Don't give up," the teacher told her. ``Go for it. You have nothing to lose.''

While a sophomore, Rivera became increasingly concerned about her son's health. Dezavon, at age 3, still wasn't speaking clearly. Doctors assured Rivera that nothing was wrong, even after other problems appeared. She eventually sought out a specialist at New York University Medical Center. They said her son required emergency surgery.

During his slow recovery, Rivera held his hand through almost 18 months of exhausting therapy. She worked closely with Dezavon's speech therapist and began to desire to become a speech therapist herself.

When her child recovered and old enough for kindergarten, Rivera felt the need to leave her grandparents' home and establish her own household. She quickly realized that without job skills, she could not support herself and her child. Even though she had vowed years before that she would never travel down the same road as her mother, in 1995, she applied for federal Aid for Families with Dependent Children.

Rivera's welfare check came to a meager $109 every two weeks. She also received a monthly stipend in food stamps of $177. Nevertheless, she maintained her ambition to complete college and she enrolled in the pilot program run by the campus Welfare Rights Initiative.

Rivera continued to do well in school but money became increasingly tight. She couldn't afford the basics like food and rent let alone transportation to Hunter. Rivera grew increasingly anxious with her bleak situation. She even dropped out in the fall of 1996.

A month later, however, she was able to return after she got a call from the Welfare Rights Initiative offering her a job. In the fall of 1997, she was able to return as a full-time student. That semester, she became pregnant again, but continued her studies and her work at the initiative.

"`You know we're like a happy little family there,'' she says with a beaming smile taking over her face. ``I feel so happy when I'm here."

The happiness at work seems to be paying off elsewhere. Rivera recently was promoted to administrative coordinator at the initiative. Three weeks ago, her daughter Kylana turned one and Rivera's mother, much to her surprise, insisted on giving the party. Dezavon, who had been struggling with his homework earlier in the semester, now seems to struggle less thanks to Rivera's assistance and encouragement.

Her family is safe, loved and have pretty much all the trappings of kids everywhere else in America. Rivera says she now feels she is going to be okay, for all that phrase means to her. ``To be economically stable and to be a positive role model to my kids. That's