Dr. A has quietly graduated thousands of cosmetology and barber students from her schools in Dallas, Houston and Oklahoma City. They go on, proper certifications in hand, to earn money at hair salons and parlors. They’re able to start over.
For the last decade, Dr. A has been secretive about the training network she has created. Dr. A, or Antoria Gillon, had to ensure that not a single one of her students would be found. After all, they came to escape.
Gillon runs From Ordinary to Extraordinary. It’s a nonprofit that empowers peoplewho have faced domestic violence by teaching them a skilled trade. “I really wasn’t big on trying to expose what we do if it were to bring about a hindrance to our mission,” Gillon, 37, said.
She wants to create pathways for people to reemerge from abuse into self-sufficiency — like she was able to.
The nonprofit is expanding from offering cosmetic training in the three cities to teaching a new fleet of students how to work as medical assistants, MRI technicians and phlebotomists. Depending on the specialty, some programs span two weeks while others require 18 months of training. The tuition-free programs are financed by the nonprofit’s sponsors and supporters, grants and as well as through revenue from hair and nail appointments.
At lunch hour Tuesday, a shopping center in Buckner Terrace was overrun by women in pink, blue and black scrubs bustling back and forth between their classes and shifts at Spa & Wake Med Spa, FOTE School of Beauty and the Global Medical Institute. They wanted to watch Gillon cut a ceremonial ribbon with oversized gold scissors from Dallas’ Black Chamber of Commerce.
Gillon was surrounded by students, board members and chamber president Harrison L. Blair outside the medical institute as she explained the importance of her leading the nonprofit.
“Those that look like me and come from where I come from are often overlooked and more so misunderstood,” Gillon said at the ribbon-cutting.
Elisa Granados, a cosmetology student since October, came from Houston to cheer Gillon on. When Granados started school, she was in a period of self-sabotage, she said. Gillon provided her with a different perspective: What if her time for change is now?
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Granados, 30, said. “They do focus on us, on our well-being.”
Gillon bought three buildings off Samuell Boulevard to house the training programs. She started with cosmetology because she knew firsthand how trades within the industry could be lucrative. In her first year braiding hair, she brought home more than $80,000 — a life-changing amount for a 20-year-old mom of two.
The expansion into medical trades came from an increase of women coming to FOTE looking for work that better aligned with their higher-educational backgrounds, Gillon said.
“Abuse is not only found in poverty,” Gillon said. “They’re not just individuals that have lived in low-income areas.”
The instructors at the medical institute are registered nurses like Laverne Nyaidho, who came out of retirement after a career at Parkland Health to train medical assistants at the school three days a week. After getting her hair done by Gillon for years, she wanted to get involved with FOTE.
“Classes are going great and they’re interactive,” Nyaidho said. “I mean, this is going good.”
To ensure the protection of her students, Gillon is in communication with different safety organizations and travels frequently to meet with lawmakers in Washington D.C. to obtain every resource possible for her students. She also works with future employers of her students to certify that their offices are properly secured and train employers on how to work with victims in their facilities.
“The workplace is very traumatic for anyone that has been through anything like that,” Gillon said. “Every time that door opens, they’re looking, ‘Is that my abuser?’”
For incoming students who are actively fleeing domestic violence, the nonprofit offers long-term housing for mothers with children under three and pregnant women.
“Any barriers that are in their place, we try to knock down all of those before even entering the program,” Gillon said.
The goal is for the students not to return to any dysfunctional relationship, whether it’s physically, emotionally or financially abusive, Gillon said. While some are seeking respite from across Texas, many women come from across the country leaving familial or spousal abuse. For some, the abuse ended decades ago. They’re all welcome with Gillon, she said.
The students can earn money while they attend school, working at the call center at the medical institute for various partnered doctor’s offices. At the Med Spa, employees, or former students, make at least $65 an hour.
Most, or 98% of the schools’ students, find work in relevant fields and the minority share find work in new careers, Gillon said.
The only debt students walk away with after attending these trade schools is the obligation to help another down the line.
Making tuition free was a conscious, principled, choice from Gillon. One she’s able to make as the sole owner of the licenses for the classes.
“I can choose to put a value and charge them, or, I can just choose to just give it away for free,” Gillon said. “I’ve been more big on how much I can give away.”
This story, originally published in The Dallas Morning News, is reprinted as part of a collaborative partnership between The Dallas Morning News and Texas Metro News. The partnership seeks to boost coverage of Dallas’ communities of color, particularly in southern Dallas.
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