In a time of frequent budget cuts to music and arts programs, many schools might resign themselves to thinking “that's the way of the world.” But come “September,” Erielda Casaya-Wright will choose the “shining stars” at local schools who will receive new instruments or funding from the Verdine White Performing Arts Center’s music foundation, turning their classrooms into “boogie wonderlands.”

Casaya-Wright, MSW ‘08, is making this difference in local communities as a coordinator for the performing arts center’s music foundation, a nonprofit organization cofounded by Earth, Wind & Fire bassist Verdine White that helps underprivileged and at-risk youth by offering music lessons, scholarships and grants.

With her help, the foundation raised more than $20,000 in the past six months to help fund music programs at schools such as Washington Irving Middle School and Diego Rivera Learning Complex high school in South Los Angeles.

“I started getting letters from teachers such as Mr. [John] Balbuena from Diego Rivera explaining their struggles with not having instruments and budgets being cut,” she said. “That’s where our focus has been concentrated—helping the schools within South Central Los Angeles—because there is a huge need. It’s a lot.”

Humble beginnings

 

Casaya-Wright knows what it’s like to feel a need. A product of Thousand Oaks, California, Casaya-Wright was born in Managua, Nicaragua, a war-torn city she and her family escaped when her single mother took her and her two brothers to the United States.

 

A proponent of hard work and dedication, Casaya-Wright’s mother often worked multiple jobs just to make ends meet for the young immigrant family.

“My mother worked two or three jobs to help us get to school. My mother did the best she could to raise my brothers and myself on her own,” she said. “She worked as a nursing assistant while going to school [and] learning to speak English. She cleaned houses. She did everything she could to meet our needs. I remember waking up at five in the morning, and my mother was out to another job and would never stop.”

Growing up in 1980s Los Angeles, Casaya-Wright lived in an era of social turbulence, characterized by rising gang activity and social unrest. Her brothers and schoolmates were in gangs. But Casaya-Wright affirms the impact her childhood environment has had on her life today.

“I can’t change [or] wish [that] I was born or placed in a different setting. I wouldn’t because all of that environment and everything I saw, the choices I made, shaped me to who I am today,” she said. “It had a big influence in choosing my career in social work.”

Defying the odds

 

With help from a high school counselor and four years at California State University, Northridge, Casaya-Wright graduated with a bachelor’s degree in sociology.

 

Inspired by her work with psychologist Jose Corena during her time as an undergraduate at CSUN, Casaya-Wright had a dream to attend graduate school to obtain her master’s degree in social work.

But after getting her bachelor’s degree, she faced many obstacles in attending graduate school, from a strong language barrier to the responsibility of raising a daughter on her own. She met opposition from not only a prominent graduate school but also from her friends and family.

Despite this discouragement, Casaya-Wright was accepted to the USC School of Social Work to pursue a master’s degree.

“That was a tough process. Hearing a lot of people who are supposed to be supportive say, ‘You’re a single mom. You’ve got to work now. Forget about school. That’s not your priority,’ you start asking yourself, ‘How are you going to pay for gas? How are you going to pay for rent?’” she said. “Next thing you know, I got a letter [from USC], and I cried and cried and cried [because I was so happy] that I was accepted. I decided that I was in it and that nothing could stop me.”

Her dream of earning her MSW at USC was eventually realized in 2008 thanks in part to the understanding of professors and administrators at the School of Social Work.

“There was a lot of mutual respect between my professors and a lot of understanding,” she said. “My experience with the School of Social Work is that they make the time. When I first started, I was so nervous … [but] my professor was always available through phone, email and office hours. Some [of the professors] go out of their way to help their students. The support is always there to accommodate to your needs.”

Building the foundation

 

Originally a social work clinician, Casaya-Wright’s unique connection to Verdine White gave her the opportunity to effect change with the foundation.

 

Casaya-Wright’s husband, Warner Wright, is not only one of the center’s main partners, but he is also White’s son. With Wright’s encouragement, she started out as a volunteer in 2011 and began working at the foundation full-time in 2014. And although Casaya-Wright’s job with the foundation is primarily administrative, she utilizes her social work skills every day, working toward the foundation’s mission to “keep music alive” in Los Angeles schools by visiting local music programs and understanding their specific situations.

Many Los Angeles Unified School District music programs are either massively underfunded or have been cut completely due to budget constraints.

“Some of these kids have so much potential and so many talents, but they don’t have the instruments or the resources to be a part of a band or to go out to perform anywhere,” she said. “That’s the dream—that every kid has an instrument in their hands, that they’re not stopped by funds being cut in our school system and that we meet those resources as a community.”

She has since made visible changes to local schools in South Los Angeles with $10,000 each going to Diego Rivera for its music program and to Washington Irving for instrument repairs.

Throughout her five years with the organization, the most rewarding moment for Casaya-Wright, the mother of a now 14-year-old daughter, occurred at Diego Rivera after the check presentation. A little girl eagerly asked one of the music teachers, “Does that mean I get to play?” After a subsequent “yes,” the little girl proceeded to jump up and down in utter joy.

“That was the reward right there,” she said.