A Framework for Understanding Poverty by Ruby K. Payne, Ph. D.

Well, I am beginning a professional development workshop tomorrow at school in which we will discuss the book that shares the title of this post by Dr. Payne. I'm usually not one for research, statistics, etc...but recent observations have piqued my interest in this study.

When you grow up in a teaching family (10 teachers in the extended family and immediate family), school is VERY much a part of your life. You are expected to do well in school, you are basically blessed with an expert in every subject if needed, you probably don't HATE school as many of today's youth do. In my personal household growing up, my dad taught high school math (yay Algebra Zealots across the nation) and held a principal's license along with his master's degree. My mom held a variety of positions in the education world including classroom teacher, principal, college professor, and now she is an administrator in the corporation office in a large school system out west. The only thing that separates her from being called "Dr. Michelle's Mom" is basically a signature signing off on her doctorate.

Although my brother and I didn't have ALL the latest in toys and clothes, we did quite well. I do remember a particular night when my dad came in to say prayers with me as he did every night, when he was so upset that he cried by my bedside because he couldn't afford a new pair of black pattened leather shoes for church for me. I'll never forget it. I was so confused at the time. As a parent, I understand completely.

I went to college in a town where the local public high school is averaging about 20% poverty levels, but my college built a new building every year and still continues its growth. The facilities were great (with the exception of Teter...ah...remember Teter's squeaky floor boards and voice lessons upstairs?...memories...the numerous signs on the door that Prof was gone again and couldn't teach my voice lesson...hehe). Student teaching was done in this town, and I experienced a lot of different socio-economic levels with those experiences....but to be honest, I was really thinking of my upcoming wedding date when I student taught so not EVERYTHING sunk in....

Teaching at my school corporation didn't really strike me as unusual based on my experiences in my farming community, educational-saturated family. After all, when I started my teaching career I was pretty optimistic. I taughth the kids that WANTED to be there becfaues 100% of my classes were electives. For the most part, I didn't realize that there were too many economic differences between the students I taught. In those rose-colored eyes, every student was the same, no matter what they wore, how they groomed themselves...the only thing that mattered to me was their commitment to singing and their vocal quality (aside from those relationships I cultivated because I wanted to be their friend, too).

It wasn't until I decided the elementary music classroom would be easier on my busy, large family that I really noticed the profound difference between some kids...and some classrooms. It seemd as if some classes were full of those less fortunate. Then all of a sudden I became all to familiar with the "free and reduced lunch" label. This phrase kept popping up in the teacher's lounge, the faculty meetings, the research and goal writing. I began to take notice of the profound difference between students who looked like I would have at that age and those who didn't.

Then one day, I was conducting what I thought to be riveting lesson complete with instrumetns, listening activities, singing, dancing, movement...it had it all! And the flow was great, and the correlation between activities and the standards being taught was impeccable, if I do say so myself. Yet off to the right side of my room, there he was, ASLEEP! I couldn't believe he could nod off with the drums and Orff instruments clamoring beside him. Of course, I did what any self-respecting, well-prepared teacher who was impressed with her excellent planning would do. I asked why he was sleeping in my class. The fourth grader replied that he was out really late the night before because his parents had taken him grocery shopping. I said, "When did you get home?" He answered that it was somewhere around 1 AM. Shocked and appalled that any responsible parent would have their children out so late to do something like grocery shopping, I asked why on earth they would have gone in the middle of the night like that. I should have dropped it. I should have left it alone. I should have reported it to his teacher or counsellor. What was I thinking? His answer changed my views on teaching altogether.

He put his head down and quietly said, "Because that's when the grocery stores throw out their old meat and there is one that leaves it on clean cardboard for my dad to get every week."

Thus, my enrollment in this workshop a year later.

Chad and I are definitely not rich. We struggle more than most in our town, I would say. When you have 4 kids and they all need diapers/pull ups or they are all in some kind of child care during the day, and when half of a paycheck pays the sitter, you're bound to struggle. And although we have been close to running out of food, God provides. We have had our electricity turned off, our heat, our water, our phones....we've done without...but never for more than 2 days at a time (well, with the exception of the phone).

We're in a particularly rough time right now, and it has been really easy for me to look at God and honestly, openly, and emotionally express my raw emotions. Why do we struggle like tihs? Don't we serve? Don't we work hard? I have two jobs, for goodness' sake! I'm tired of my boys sharing a tiny room and not having places for our clothes in our drawers and the one closet that we have. I'm tired of this...I'm sick of that... And then, God's perfectly timed finger taps me on the shoulder and I turn around to face Him and realize:

Things could always be worse. My kids could lack role models, Christian role models. My kids could have to learn to defend themselves on the streets to establish their turf. I could feel like my only option was to steal or cheat. I could feel like my only option was to...well, let's just say they could always be worse. And for Kyle and Daniel and Joe and Brittany and Jack and Dylan and...things are.

God, thank You for the opportunity to be reminded of Your provision, Your blessings. Forgive me when I lose sight of reality and the way You always answer prayers. God, make me an instrument that helps these children as long as I come in contact with them. Help me not to turn away. Show me what I can offer them...even if it isn't financial. Continue to help my family and provide for us. I am amazed by Your grace and mercy. I'm humbled by Your love and generosity. Amen.