In 2012, I had the incredible opportunity to travel to New York City for the United Nations' Commission on the Status of Women. This annual event stems from a summit held in Beijing in the late 90s. At that summit, world leaders identified several platforms that highlighted the challenges faced by women and children around the world. In 2012, the focus was rural women, and I was asked to attend as a representative of Women of the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America). I was completely unsure what to expect. Throughout my time at the UN, I listened more than I spoke. I heard stories from women who know poverty in a way that I certainly don't. I heard from women who have studied and implemented programs, but I also heard from women who have LIVED it in the most remote parts of this globe. To say it was humbling is to say that winter in North Dakota is chilly.
One of the women with whom I was able to visit as a part of a small group was Leymah Gbowee who later was awarded a Nobel Peace Prize as recognition for her efforts on behalf of women and children in Liberia. Leymah, a Lutheran mother of 6, helped bring peace to her country in the midst of its civil war. She is a champion of education, children, and the church.
During our discussion, she talked about the educational opportunities for kids in Liberia, specifically girls. She said that girls in Liberia are very distinctly divided into two economic groups which, in turn, affect their access to school, health care, and even sexual safety. One of the things Leymah and her friends have tried to do is provide access to school for the most impoverished girls of Liberia. She spoke about how excited girls would be to be given a pencil and paper--tools to which they had no access. While her stories were inspiring, I couldn't help but wonder where that excitement and optimism had gone among children in our own country.
After several minutes, I finally decided I needed to ask the question: why do children in America seem so apathetic? They are handed opportunities from every direction, but those opportunities are ignored by the kids who need them worst. I will never forget Leymah's response (or her piercing look as she spoke): the children are not apathetic. They have lost hope. No child chooses to turn away from an opportunity for a better life. Those children have been taught that their hopes are irrelevant, so it is easier--safer--to give up and appear apathetic.
Those words echo in my head when I look at a student who doesn't seem to care. Poverty takes away that most basic element of hope as Jensen pointed out in the "Hope Building" section of the chapter. So what do we do about it? I think our words need to be consistent, strong, and clear from preschool through graduation: you can do this. One of the notes I wrote to myself while I read this portion of the book: don't become a teacher if you can't stand repeating yourself. Repetition is the only thing that combat the helplessness that Jensen mentions. And I think much of the repetition has to be personal. He lists several strategies that "build hope" on page 116; however, many are group or classroom based. When we just do these "blanket" responses, it is too easy for the marginalized kid to think, "That doesn't apply to me." What is wrong with identifying the kids who need us most? Isn't that our job? These kids can't afford our political correctness. Because if we are timid, they just become a kid that we see as apathetic and cycle continues.
And the message needs to be clear from a very early age. I can plainly see that most hopefulness is lost by the time kids are in high school. We have to figure out a way to influence kids sooner--to make the message clear when kids are younger.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Monday, February 2, 2015
How are we doing?
How is the Rugby Public School District doing with responding to the needs of its impoverished kids?
I think it is difficult to discern whether we do something for specific students or for all students. When our district chooses to enact a new policy or approach, we may have a target in mind, but I think our goal is to impact all students, not just a few. While some policies are designed with a specific subgroup in mind (e.g. attendance incentive policy), that decision still impacts more than just a few. It impacts all. Does it matter if our decisions affect a few or many? Of course it does. Our effectiveness is diminished if all we do is respond to the needs of a few.
But the other side of this begs us to examine what is being done for our most "at-risk" students--particularly those who are at significant risk of dropping out. And to this, I don't think we are doing enough; however, I think there are two ways of looking at the problem. First, are we merely admiring the problem without ever moving toward any solution? Second, do we have what we need to address the issues? The answers to these two questions are crucial because they really represent two completely different issues. Or do they?
If we merely admire the problem without really ever making any real headway into solving it, we could be stuck forever. At some point we have to move forward to something. Anything. No one solution will work for all kids, but we have to begin somewhere. If we try an idea and it doesn't work, it only fails if we learn nothing from it. So we make adjustments and move forward. Do something different. Think creatively.
But the real issue here is whether or not we have what we need to address the problem of poverty. If we speak in terms of community and school resources, I think we are lagging behind other schools in more populated areas. So instead, we have to find the creative solution. We need to try something--anything--then adjust as needed. (Sound familiar? Do you see how this is linked?) Our lack of resources is most noticeable when we consider Jensen's factor: support the whole child. Without adequate community resources and access to healthcare, both physical and emotional, we ignore a major issue associated with poverty. But I think the resources are there, we just need to make them more effective partners in the school system or the school system has to be more effective at partnering with the resources.
For example, public health departments can do a great deal to educate young people about birth control, communicable diseases, vaccines, and child health. But without a partnership between the two agencies, nothing will change. We need (actually the kids need) the bureaucracy to be diminished. This takes a concerted effort, a real change, and creativity. All the policies and programs in the world can't change anything if we are still willing to be dismissive. "I don't know what I can do to change this" has to be replaced with "We still haven't figured out the right cocktail of solutions, but we are learning."
I think it is difficult to discern whether we do something for specific students or for all students. When our district chooses to enact a new policy or approach, we may have a target in mind, but I think our goal is to impact all students, not just a few. While some policies are designed with a specific subgroup in mind (e.g. attendance incentive policy), that decision still impacts more than just a few. It impacts all. Does it matter if our decisions affect a few or many? Of course it does. Our effectiveness is diminished if all we do is respond to the needs of a few.
But the other side of this begs us to examine what is being done for our most "at-risk" students--particularly those who are at significant risk of dropping out. And to this, I don't think we are doing enough; however, I think there are two ways of looking at the problem. First, are we merely admiring the problem without ever moving toward any solution? Second, do we have what we need to address the issues? The answers to these two questions are crucial because they really represent two completely different issues. Or do they?
If we merely admire the problem without really ever making any real headway into solving it, we could be stuck forever. At some point we have to move forward to something. Anything. No one solution will work for all kids, but we have to begin somewhere. If we try an idea and it doesn't work, it only fails if we learn nothing from it. So we make adjustments and move forward. Do something different. Think creatively.
But the real issue here is whether or not we have what we need to address the problem of poverty. If we speak in terms of community and school resources, I think we are lagging behind other schools in more populated areas. So instead, we have to find the creative solution. We need to try something--anything--then adjust as needed. (Sound familiar? Do you see how this is linked?) Our lack of resources is most noticeable when we consider Jensen's factor: support the whole child. Without adequate community resources and access to healthcare, both physical and emotional, we ignore a major issue associated with poverty. But I think the resources are there, we just need to make them more effective partners in the school system or the school system has to be more effective at partnering with the resources.
For example, public health departments can do a great deal to educate young people about birth control, communicable diseases, vaccines, and child health. But without a partnership between the two agencies, nothing will change. We need (actually the kids need) the bureaucracy to be diminished. This takes a concerted effort, a real change, and creativity. All the policies and programs in the world can't change anything if we are still willing to be dismissive. "I don't know what I can do to change this" has to be replaced with "We still haven't figured out the right cocktail of solutions, but we are learning."
Monday, January 5, 2015
What do we do next?
I am watching a train wreck in progress, and I cannot do anything to stop it. The wreck is in ultra-slow motion; in fact, it has been developing for years. I can see what is likely to happen, yet there is nothing I can do. I am watching three students fail. Fail to the point that they will likely drop out before their senior years. All three are children of poverty. All three have been given numerous opportunities to "turn things around" over the course of years, but all three seem powerless to turn away from the wreckage. As I read the book, I see these faces in my mind's eye. I have never had any of these students in my own classroom, but they are the children I see when I read about all the facets of poverty.
I think our district is beginning to understand the crucial importance of addressing its understanding of and response to poverty. I think there are several teachers who are waiting for the next steps to help them do what they cannot do alone or in isolation: help the kids who do not or cannot respond to other offers for help. We are hungry for solutions for the three. But we are lost. At least I am.
When I read this book, I see the successes of other districts with much larger problems than ours, and I wonder what we are doing wrong. But I am beginning to think that we are doing many things right, for if we are reaching 268 kids with only three students failing to the point of dropping out, we are clearly doing something right. But what about the three? I feel as though they need something--desperately--that we cannot offer.
Look at it this way: from the list of resources to provide on pages 72 and 73, I count only four that our district can offer every day. Other resources are be available periodically, while other are not available at all through the district. That isn't an excuse, but it is our reality. So what can we do within our reality?
That's what I haven't figured out yet. None of us who discuss these things on a regular basis have figured that out yet. But I maintain the hope that we are getting closer. We have to.
I think our district is beginning to understand the crucial importance of addressing its understanding of and response to poverty. I think there are several teachers who are waiting for the next steps to help them do what they cannot do alone or in isolation: help the kids who do not or cannot respond to other offers for help. We are hungry for solutions for the three. But we are lost. At least I am.
When I read this book, I see the successes of other districts with much larger problems than ours, and I wonder what we are doing wrong. But I am beginning to think that we are doing many things right, for if we are reaching 268 kids with only three students failing to the point of dropping out, we are clearly doing something right. But what about the three? I feel as though they need something--desperately--that we cannot offer.
Look at it this way: from the list of resources to provide on pages 72 and 73, I count only four that our district can offer every day. Other resources are be available periodically, while other are not available at all through the district. That isn't an excuse, but it is our reality. So what can we do within our reality?
That's what I haven't figured out yet. None of us who discuss these things on a regular basis have figured that out yet. But I maintain the hope that we are getting closer. We have to.
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