Inner City School Experience

Halloween usually passes by without much consequence for me.  Not having kids and living in a primarily retired area of town makes it fairly seamless for us.  Although, this year has turned out a bit different.

I was given the opportunity to bake cookies for and help in the delivery of goodies to an inner city charter school. 

Let me tell you, I was a little nervous prior to arriving and in such self centered ways.  Even though my friend teaches there, my white-girl-from-small-town-Kansas-totally-suburbanized self was admittedly hesitant about spending the day in an inner city school.

Granted, times have changed and school security is much tighter since I went to school, but I was still a little taken aback by the doors being locked at all times.  Walking in the door, a mix of sweat, children, mold and dirt smacked me in the face.  That isn't an insult to anyone or anything, but the first thing to really grab hold my senses and make me seriously open my eyes.

 My husband and I have traveled to poverty stricken nations for vacation.  Before you judge, those areas survive off farming and tourism.  Since we go in fall or winter, we always see kids going to or leaving schools.  We've seen the schools.  They are old, dirty and usually small.  Often, if they are lucky enough to have windows and doors, they are covered by bars.  The kids all wear uniforms and all look very happy. 

Statistically, in the poverty stricken areas, it is a privilege to go to school.  In most areas, schools only go through 8th or 9th grade.  Only the elite are able to go onto high school, especially women, and even less go to community colleges. 

As I walked up the three flights of stairs, I felt as though I was walking through one of those schools we had seen in another country.  Again, not judging! 

Outside the classroom was a variety of buckets sitting to catch the water dripping from the leaky roof.  Inside the classroom, another bucket was set up to catch water.  The ceiling tiles had either already collapsed or were bowing every so close to falling to the floor.  Electrical wires to the overhead projector were catching some of the leaky rain water while a light fixture held another giant puddle within it.  Talking with the teacher and another person later in the day, I found out that these conditions were wonderful compared to the building they had been in last year.

I hate to overly stereotype anyone or anything, but on the surface the kids and school were much like you would see on television.  Even the neighborhoods are a lot like you would think of inner city.

As you drive to the school, you see dilapidated houses with bars and boards covering the windows.  They are tiny and old and many have junk or old cars or trash in the front yards.  My simplistic, naïve heart wants to believe these are uninhabitable, yet I know that they are the most substantial thing most of these families own. 

When I watch the news night after night, the murders and violence and gang activity all seem a world away.  But this school sits amidst it all, 30 minutes from my front door.

Completely on the surface, the children seem explosive and very rough.  In the yelling and fighting and attitude, it is difficult to the innocence at first. 

These kids were all middle school age.  I didn't think for a second that they would be excited about a pipe cleaner candy spider, pencils and cookies.  Boy was I wrong!  The minute I began to hand out the goodies, I was completely overwhelmed by the childish innocence that I never expected to find.

The kids were all so thankful and delighted by the goodies.  They were excited over plain, yellow pencils.  When was the last time that you were excited over a pencil or anything that small?  It broke my heart to repeatedly hear from the kids how badly they needed pencils. 

The teacher had to tell the kids that they couldn't do their homework assignment on the computer.  She couldn't allow it because not every child has access to a computer.  This is 2013 and I can't wrap my head around that.  We live in a house full of electronics.  We each have a laptop.  We each have ipads, iphones, ipods, etc.  So much we take for granted.

As we left, there were two older guys waiting for one of the kids I had seen that day.  They yelled and talked about shooting someone as they walked down the block after school.  I think that is when it really sunk in.  These kids are still babies in this big mean world.  They are so young and yet live in a time and place that causes them to grow up too fast. 

My broken little heart wants to rescue them all.  I want to whisk them away to a loving, safe home that is bright and clean and warm.  I want to shield them from violence and gangs and the ways of the cold, unforgiving streets.  I want to tuck them safely into bed at night and send them off to clean, updated schools every morning.

I applaud my friend for what she does and does well.  I couldn't do it.  I'm appalled that in this day and in this country, that we have living and school conditions like this.  I cannot believe that our government; federal, state or local, is ok with this.

There is little that I can do outside of praying.  The problem is too big for me.  I will certainly be more committed to praying for the children, the school, the community and for my friend.  I will be praying that she can be a positive influence and a light to these children who so badly need it.