Educational Leadership

I ended up writing the school newspaper’s sports section. The changes were dramatic—and threatening. My homies were threatened by my new vocabulary, and many times I was chastened for “wanting to be white.” George Williams College enrolled me under probation through the National Defense Student Loan program. But because of my low fluency rate, it required Herculean effort to complete the required course reading and graduate.

—Lemarr Treadwell, 5th grade teacher, Calwa Elementary School, Fresno, California

Homeless and Unmoored

A number of years ago, I taught a 4th grade boy who lived in a car with his brother, mother, and father. To avoid the park rangers, they parked each night in a different place at our local state park. Each day, he devoured his free school breakfast and arrived in my class to enjoy the warmth and comfort of our room. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep, catching up on the sleep he hadn’t gotten the night before when he shared the back seat of their car with his brother. Despite his lack of food and rest, he longed to be a good student and worked hard to keep up with the other students. I made sure he knew that I was proud of his efforts. But after about three months, he moved. His parents had decided that by moving 70 miles south to the big city, they could live under a bridge and not be confined to their car. They saw this as an upgrade! His new school would be the 3rd one that year.

—Sarah Swicegood, lecturer, Sam Houston State University, Huntsville, Texas

Poverty Is Not the Problem

I grew up in a rural area in the Midwest. I had
nine brothers and sisters, each born one year
apart. My father worked, and mom stayed home
and raised the kids. I went to a small Catholic
school, and we were very poor. I don’t think
the school charged anything for tuition at the
time. Everyone was poor in that area. We had
to wash dishes in the cafeteria to pay for our
lunch. My education was not affected by our
poverty. I didn’t have anything to wear on the
days we could wear something other than our
school uniform, but the education I got in that
small school carried me through high school
and beyond. I don’t think it is poverty that
puts children at risk—it is ignorance and the
breakdown of the family. Our nation is full of
success stories in which poor children become
great leaders.

—Mary Lou Gamache, principal, Diocese of Savannah, Albany, Georgia

Bringing Pop Around

In 1964, I was 10 years old and lived in Atlanta’s West End, a rough inner-city neighborhood. Twelve of us resided in a two-bedroom, government-subsidized apartment. The fence just outside my front door separated the black population from the white. My parents were too proud to accept government cheese or powdered milk but grateful indeed when the neighbors offered them. Biscuits and powdered milk for

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““No amount of poverty can compete with an informed and determined parent.

breakfast and dinner made school lunches seem
special. School was the only place where I felt
equal. My grades were all As and Bs, and I only
missed two days of school in 12 years. Mama
was the reason—the glue, the security, the
sheriff, the psychologist, and the ER nurse. Her
word was the last word, and I never knew her
to be wrong. We were clean and followed her
orders: “Don’t embarrass me with your actions.”
Eventually we moved to rural Cobb County,
Georgia, where we rented a weathered shack
and 62 acres for $100 a month. I was hesitant to
drink water from a hole in the ground and hated
the bugs, spiders, and snakes that seemed to lurk
everywhere. But I grew into my teens, got a job,
and entered high school. Again, I blended in
well. I made friends and got good grades. I was
elected to class office, named a Senior Super-
lative, and had my own radio show. I never
dated. I couldn’t imagine my friends finding out
about my life of poverty. I was ashamed of where
I lived, how we lived, and my large family.