Nobody dont love nobody - Lessons on love from the school with no name

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Lessons on Love from the School \^th

/.„'/

/^

^-
^^-^ /y

No NaJb

^^.^..,. /Nobody Don't Love Nobody

didn't

want to take any joy away from

ing happily

up and down the

children. At the lives

end

of this

Karl,

Christmas magic

would be changed forever on both

and those

of these

who was wander-

aisles enjoying the toys I

and the

had no doubt

sides, Mr. Malone's

homeless children.

Christmas passed smd Alex's family was able to get into a

home through his men and women

father's efforts with a in

program that trained

practical construction skills such as

plumbing, wiring, and painting.

If

you made

all

it

way

the

through the course, you got the chance to work on a house for

your own

gram an

family. Alex's father

electrician's assistant,

had come out

of the pro-

and though the demands

of

him from being around much to give his boys time and supervision, he worked hard to meet his family's his job kept

needs. Alex attended his neighborhood school, but every

once

in

a while he would

"Karl

come to the

shelter to say

been back?" he would always

hi.

ask.

"No," told him one day early in May. "I did speak on the phone, though, and he wants you to come 1

to

him

to his

basketball camp."

"For reals?" screamed Alex. "He must have thought

1

was

real bad."

"For reals,"

I

assured him.

June couldn't come quickly enough for Alex that year. He

became a

weeks before the camp, remembered the date and that had volunteered to take him. picked him up at 7:15 on the first morning of the camp so that we would be sure to be there on time. He talked my ear off all the way there and forgot to regular at the shelter in the

checking to make sure

1

1

I

unbuckle his seat

As

belt before trying to get out of the

car

on the bleachers representing Alex's "mom," couldn't help but compare Alex to the other children. Most of

1

sat

them were

I

well dressed, right

down

to their

name-brand

basketball shoes. In contrast to Alex, they looked healthy 58

"Don't Be a Kid" Rules

and confident.

Alex's health

had improved

in

the time

I

K

had

known him; his eyes were bright and his skin clecir. But his hair hung in his eyes and his clothes and tennis shoes were hand-me-downs from his older brothers. His shorts, borrowed from

his eighteen-year-old brother, threatened to

right to his ankles with a

This vision broke

suddenly wondered.

more hard knocks As sat there 1

in

in

fall

sudden move.

my heart. Was this a dreadful mistake? I

I

didn't think that Alex could suffer any-

life.

sudden

despair, Karl

began to sternly

read the rules of the camp, which did nothing to soothe

my

already anxious mind.

The

Now

first rule:

Your shirt must be clean every day without fail.

who's going to take care of that?

I

wondered. Alex's

money for extra trips to the laundromat. The second rule: When addressed, you will respond with "yes, sir" or "no, sir "Players who forget will run laps. As the rules were read, Alex looked at me. He had struggled with rules ever since had known him, and despite the relationship we had developed over time, he still resisted family didn't have

1

rules, especially

if

he didn't understand why. To him,

would be another case

of "big people"

this

handing down "don't

no good reason that he could see. just pay attention, we'd talk about the rules later. As we drove home that day we discussed about demanding respect and earning respect. "Not all people understand that it takes time to build trust and more than one week to build respect," said. "Just be you and be be a kid" rules I

for

motioned to Alex to

1

polite. You'll

be

fine."

The next morning, Alex was none

at

all

—

He had to wear a it was that or

front

—

and he knew he was going to have to run

"Don't worry,"

I

As we arrived and took him

Karl,

petrified.

on the

shirt with a big chocolate stain

laps.

told him. at the

camp,

aside. "Alex

I

steeled

may

my

nerve, found

not always have a clean 59

^>Nobody

shirt,"

many

I

Nobody

Don't Love

told him.

"And he hasn't had the background that Respect for rules is harder for

of the children have.

him than others."

asked him please not to single Alex out

1

and humiliate him. He had had enough setbacks "You'll

be sorry

sweet smile on

you do,"

if

my

face,

1

said,

though

"and you'll have

He laughed and put an arm around my "Don't worry, relieved

make sure

I'll

me

in life.

said

I

to

he's OK."

1

had provided

for

new

this

shirt

him

of the

camp,

him work with the

to help

to."

walked away

knowing that we both wanted him to experience

Every morning

mined

with a

shoulder.

small success. By the end of the day, Alex had a Karl

it

answer

1

drove Alex there, deter-

rules

and to save him from

any possible humiliation. For every minute you were late, you ran a lap in front of the other children. If your shirt was dirty or untucked, that

was another

lap as an

example so that

the other kids could see that you chose to break the rules.

Alex faced other

difficulties as well.

ent that the other kids were ball.

Though he

to carry

it

It

soon became appar-

more competent

at

handling the

tried his best, the other kids didn't trust

down

the court. This frustrated Alex,

who

him

under-

stood that he wasn't as skilled as they were. But because of his experiences with poverty

survivor.

He

didn't

other kids, but he

and homelessness, Alex was a

have the finesse or polish

made

his

of

some

of the

presence known and demanded

He had an incredible hunger for that ball, a came from a lifetime lack of opportunity, and he

to participate.

drive that

was an aggressive player. His hands flew all over the place as he yelled, "Throw me the ball, throw me the ball. Let me shoot

it."

At

first,

the other kids ignored him and played

around him. But he kept

it up for the entire week of the camp. Aside from a few scuffles with other children, Alex worked hard and never complained. He was doing fine. While I

drove him home, he would share with

of offense 60

me

the finer points

and defense he had picked up that morning.

"Don't Be a Kid" Rules

K

how many points he would how many passes he would make, and

Together we made goals for score the next day,

how he would improve

his teamwork and sportsmanship. One day, halfway through the camp, came early to pick Alex up so could watch him play a bit before took him I

I

1

home. His coach approached

me as

1

walked

in.

What now? thought. 1

Alex had gotten a

little

"too aggressive" his coach said.

1

explained Alex's territory problem. like to be touched or bumped," said. some of Alex's background that he didn't have a mom, that he was raised with men as the baby of the family. He had been picked on a lot and had very little cuddling; he put up his defenses, but he was very hungry for the right

"He doesn't

I

I

—

described

kind of touch.

Then

coach said with great compassion, "He's

Alex's

nitely different.

1

talked about

the kind of kid you just want to ing Alex out laps,

but

still

on the

floor,

all

night to

calmed down a

yelling to get his

defi-

my wife. He's bring home." We were watch-

him

bit after taking his

hands on the

ball.

"What can do?" his coach asked, looking to help him. "He really hasn't been talked to enough," offered. "Just 1

1

yelled

at.

If

you

get

down

at his level to explain things, he's

a good listener." The coach nodded with

new understand-

and returned to the court. looked over later to see him on one knee beside Alex, talking to him, listening, nodding his head. could see Alex warming up to him. don't make a habit of kissing strange men, but could have run out and planted one on Alex's coach right then. That night Alex told me he thought his coach was one of the coolest ing

1

I

1

I

people he'd ever met.

On

Thursday, the second to the last day of camp, stood doorway of the gym feeling like a proud mom. At the same time was hurting from the scene before me. The kids were playing, and Alex kept screaming for the ball but the in

1

the

I

61

^8>Nobody Don't Love Nobody

kids

my

Still

weren't passing

when

cheeks, and

to him.

it

before he could see me. could control that day.

I

my emotions.

1

feel

the tears

I

1

me

a valuable lesson

Be tough, be counted, amd never give up. it was time to leave, stopped to buy a few 1

autographed shirts

was walking out

warm

1

Alex taught

When

Karl's staff

was

of the

selling for the kids.

As

1

Karl stopped me.

"How's he doing out there?" he "He's a fighter,"

several

could

was crying quickly left waited in the bathroom until

realized

1

1

said.

Then

told him.

handed me

Karl quietly

bills.

some new shoes and

"Please go buy Alex haircut," Karl said. "He'll

want to look sharp

get

for the

him a

awards

ceremony."

"Thank you,"

determined not to bawl

said,

1

in front of

Karl Malone.

"Now, buy the brand

represent!" he added, half joking.

I

Alex was thrilled and on the

way home we stopped

at a

sporting goods store to buy shoes. "It

would be nice

when we looked over

if

you bought

Karl's brand,"

1

said, but

the table holding that particular brand,

Alex pulled a face as he poked the shoes.

"Too

girly.

Finally,

Not cool," he

weren't Karl's brand, but his

said.

he spotted a pair of plain black ones. They 1

didn't think he

would hold us to

words. "Oh.

1

like these,"

Alex held them out for inspection.

know they're not Karl's, The selection at the

but

1

like

store

was

em."

"I'll

tell

promised.

the shoes and sion. 62

1

had to hands

cool."

Karl they just

We

and

in his

pretty limited,

agree that the pair Alex was holding hopefully

was indeed "way

"1

had

'girly'

colors

in his

brand." he

laughed over his purchase. Alex happy to have

me

They were

pleased with his power to make the deci-

his

new

shoes, and he

was proud

of them.

"Don't Be a Kid" Rules |€

When

I

dropped Alex

home,

off at

gave his father ten

I

dollars to get Alex a haircut. "He'll

be ready

you tomorrow,"

for

The next morning toward the shaved I

his

car, his

his father assured

was surprised

I

head hanging

shame. His father had

in

head himself to save the ten

told Alex

thinking that

didn't look too

it

it

was

me.

to see Alex walk

bad and

dollars. I

consoled myself by

his last day. He'd never

have to see the

other kids again.

coach was waiting

Alex's

for

him

inside the door as

we

"Come here, Alex," he called. Alex followed him into the locker room where his coach showed him a set of brand new clothes. Alex quickly showered and came out beaming in his new clothes, his problem haircut forgotten.

walked

in.

look good, don't

"1

1?"

"You certainly do,"

1

he declared.

agreed.

For the awards ceremony, the children were seated according to their teams on the

gym

floor,

while the proud

parents sat behind them on the bleachers with cameras

Awards were given to kids who showed the most who had the best attitude, who showed the greatest hustle on the court. know that Alex was not counting on receiving an award because he was bugging the kid next to him. When his name was called out as the child who had shown exemplary skills in not giving up, learning, and ready.

improvement,

I

improving, he looked at

He pointed up." He ran up ing at the I

me

to himself to the

sound

in

complete astonishment.

and motioned, 1

podium

"Yes, you, Alex. Get

to accept his certificate,

took Alex out for a

exploits of the last week,

would never

influence choices he of the School

and as him recount his

late breakfast to celebrate,

sat across the table from him, listening to

that Alex

beam-

of applause.

I

knew

forget,

this

I

would be an experience

one that might shape him and

made later He never did get kicked out Name for not obeying all the "don't be

With No

— ^s*Nobody Don't Love Nobody

a kid" rules. This gave him the chance to lecim a

number

of

things from the school and his experience with Karl, includof the rules were for and how they can work He got to learn that if you work hard you get paud, that honesty can bring greater rewards than theft. Most

ing

what some

for you.

important, he learned that there are people

who even

love kids, no matter if

how

in this

they look or where they

they sometimes break the rules.

«3>

world live

r^

What Dana Gave

Nine-year-old

Dana was another Christmas story. She pouted one November day with her seven-year-

into the classroom

They had moved into the family Head hanging, eyes

old brother, Jesse, in tow.

shelter with their father the night before.

on the led

floor,

him

Dana held

tightly to her brother's

hand while she

to a seat then slunk into her own. She sat

slumped

in

her chair the rest of the day, mute and unresponsive, speaking only

when she

couldn't answer with a nod.

week

Dana hid behind her lift her head for even a moment to look at me. As the din and chaos of the classroom swirled around her, she sat unmoving and unwillDuring her

tousled

mop

first

at the school,

brownish-red

of

hair,

unwilling to

ing to participate, everything about her announcing: "I'm

powerless. I'm nobody."

wounded

child and

1

felt

made

a strange affinity with this

a pact with myself to break

through her protective wall of isolation and help her see

she was

at first

it

seemed

that Dana's wall

She refused to be reached.

steel.

time

—but

I

tried,

1

failed.

Like

I

1

knew

did on the day

this 1

who

was made

of

because every

tried to invite her

to play Scrabble.

Jared was in the fourth grade with Dana, and

been

battling

all

"Would you

on

morning over

my help?"

like

his cheeks. "I'd

Would a spoonful

1

teased placing

be glad to do a dance

of sugar

we had

his spelling test.

my cold hands

for

you or

sing.

make the medicine go down?"

my

1

The boys at Jared's table laughed. Dana did nothing. Jared's eyes opened wide. He giggled, blushed, and finally begged me to quit. danced,

1

pranced,

I

belted out

song.

67

^•Nobody

Don't Love

"You can't

Nobody

spell, neither,"

Spelling wasn't always

catching thing

we

my

my

he retorted. He was

strong

half right.

and the kids loved told them it was some-

suit,

mistakes on the board.

1

could work on together, and

catch the misspelled words, at least

it

1

figured

if

they could

meant they were

learn-

ing something.

can spell better than you,"

"1

1

challenged.

"Nah," Jared said, folding his arms and leaning back

hooted and egged him on.

his chair. His buddies

It

in

was time

to bring out the big guns. "All right,"

said, digging for the

1

Scrabble game

cupboard, "bring your butt over here so 1

was on a

game,

I

roll,

thought

1

brush the strands under there?"

1

and while the boys

would

invite

grown round with

can kick

1

in

the

it."

up the Scrabble

set

to play.

I

of hair out of her eyes.

teased. Gently,

chin, tipped her

Dana

1

reached out to

"Can you see

placed a finger under Dana's

head up, and looked into huge blue eyes terror as she jerked back as though were 1

going to strike her.

I

quickly dropped

my

hands to

my

side

and knelt down beside her. "It's okay," said. "You don't have to look at me." backed off and watched from a dis1

1

tance as she finished her spelling

test.

Nobody

else in the

up or noticed. Because Dana wasn't cute, cuddly, or even attractive, both adults and peers found it easy to ignore her. She moped around on the sidelines of every activity, lonely and withdrawn. She interacted with the other children only class looked

when they made tears. Tears

fun of her, and then her only defense

had been

my

was

when anything

recourse, too,

in my growing up years. For the longest time. would stand and cry rather than fight. ached for her. remembering this, and became more passionately deter-

went wrong

I

1

I

mined

to reach out to the child behind the wall.

After several frustrating days spent trying to get past the ratty hair hanging in her eyes 68

and her

refusal to talk,

1

finally

— What Dana Gave

came up with an

"Can you come

idea.

in early

K

tomorrow?"

I

asked Dana as she was leading her brother out of the classroom. Dana didn't

I knew she listened and seemed what she was asked. She nodded me. "Good," said. "Wash your hair before

but

talk,

to be in the habit of doing

without looking at

1

you come."

The next morning

way in rolled

at eight-thirty,

a grungy, lime-green

t-shirt

Dana stood

in

my door-

and baggy corduroy pants,

up so they wouldn't drag on the floor. Her hair, clean known her, hung in damp tangles. found something for you that think is recilly cool,"

for the first time since I'd "I

said,

I

motioning for her to come

in,

1

"something that

will

make

you gorgeous and help you see to do your work." reached into my purse and came up with a hairbrush in one hand and a mcirbled-green headband in the other. I

Dana

sat stiffly while

snarled layers as best hair

was

and

ears.

thick

breathed

it

1

carefully tugged through the

could. Her ragged, home-barbered

and hung unevenly around her freckled neck

made some

in the clean

small talk, mostly to myself, and

scent of

shampoo

as

I

sat

behind

her.

wondered how had been since she had had a mother to sit and talk

Dana was long

1

I

living

with her father now, and

with while she brushed her daughter's

I

hair. After

1

finished

and slipped the headband behind her ears to gather the hair out of her eyes,

and found a

we searched through

the science drawer

mirror.

"Don't you look way on her own image in the

cool,"

I

mirror,

grinned. Dana's eyes locked

which

reflected a rare, genu-

ine smile.

With

me reminding

mornings

after that,

her,

Dana came

confident enough and willing to do a

little

in

before school most

and I would brush her it

hair, until

herself.

It

she was

was a

start

step toward the goal of helping Dana to have pride in

who she

was, to hold her head up.

1

wanted her to

feel

good 69

^Nobody

Nobody

Don't Love

enough about

herself that she could look at me, talk to me,

and face her peers with some degree

Dana could value learning

don't you stay and talk for a while while

she looked up and asked

Startled,

clean

I

one afternoon while she headed out the door

invited

I

and

would be overcome.

"Why up?"

When

of confidence.

herself, the biggest barrier to love

in

amazement, "How

come?" I

shrugged. "Just to

What do you

talk.

usually

do

after

school?" "Nothing," she glumly retorted.

too cold, and Dad says with her there, but class I

1

it's

"We

invited her to

go outside.

can't

too dangerous."

keep

It's

couldn't argue

I

me company

after

whenever she wanted.

knew

that her wall

began hanging around

When

was beginning

she learned that

just a little older

I

crumble when Dana

me on

her own.

had a daughter, Nichole, who was

than she was, Nichole became one of Dana's

favorite subjects. With her

often pepper

to

after school to talk to

me

newfound courage, she would

with questions. "Does Nichole have home-

work? Do you help her with

Does she

it?

having a

like

mom

who's a teacher?"

Laughing

at

her sudden inquisitiveness

"Sometimes she doesn't

like

me

I

responded,

reminding her about home-

work when she has so many other things she wants She's busy

all

"Like with Sciid,

details

to do.

the time."

swimming lessons and student

council?"

Dana

she had stored away from earlier conversations.

"You have a good memory," said, while took the books Dana handed me and slipped them into place on a shelf. "I wish you were my mom," Dana sighed. "And you could help me do homework." The longing in her voice surprised 1

I

me, though not as much as when she took tightly,

and wouldn't

let

go

for

some

K 70

time.

my

hand, held

it

What Dana Gave

K

began seeing a lot of progress with Dana, Just when December came and had much less time to devote to her. I

I

Overwhelming doesn't begin to describe the Christmas season at the shelter It hits us like a tidal wave, causing panic

and

and we are inevitably knocked

frustration;

the whole range of emotions

left in its

The pressing awareness

of the differences

haves and the have nots settles on us

dimming the glow

we unwrap in

for a

like

between the

a gloomy cloud,

of this bright season. At the shelter school

before they are assigned to the children

all gifts

order to avoid the problem of well-wishers providing

worn-out toys, even used pencils and crayons, as obviously used toy from Santa just doesn't cut

how poor you

are.

It

making sure

it,

chil-

of, we who have

the shelter children are taken care

all

those

An

else. In addition

also try to set aside gifts to share with children just left or

gifts.

no matter

makes yet another statement to the

dren that they are worth less than someone to

loop by

wake.

who come

in after

the holidays with the

heartbreaking announcement: "We didn't get anything for

Christmas because

we were

living in

our

car."

The year that Dana and her brother, Jesse, were at the shelter was the year of the Santa Claus train. Santa was coming by train into the station just down the street with gifts for the underprivileged children. On the morning he was to make his appearance, the announcement blared over the intercom: "Santa will arrive at 10:00 a.m." The children cheered. "Teacher, isn't it time to go?" Jesse pleaded. Dana looked up, brushing her hair out of those big blue eyes open wide with excitement.

"He won't be here

for

another hour,"

I

explained, but rea-

son was useless. The whole class fidgeted and griped

we

finally

gave

in.

until

We got the twenty-or-so children paired up,

rounded up some parents to help chaperone, and walked the

two blocks

The

December daylight. station rang with the chatter and shouts

to the station in the bright

train

of 71

«B»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

dozens

of children as

we

zigzagged through the crowd. With

impatience and anticipation bursting from them

in giggles,

the shelter children shifted from one foot to the other, but

managed

to be generally polite as they waited for their turn

on Santa's knee. A convincing Santa with a real beard talked to each one then handed each a wrapped gift. This was Christmas,

I

thought.

1

was as excited as the

rest of

them and

ordered every one of the children to bring their presents after

they opened them to show me.

Dcina tore the red ribbon and green paper off her present

then paused and slowly face

fell.

wove her way through to me.

I

a Barbie bed out of a box. Her

lifted

With her eyes on the ground, dragging her asked her what Santa had given

up, she held the

feet,

she

the other children until she got back her.

Without looking

bed up to show me. She didn't say a word,

but she didn't have to. knew she didn't have a Barbie, and knew she knew her father had no money to buy one. My heart sunk down into my shoes. Suddenly the station was just noisy and crowded; all the cheer was gone. Unable to find words, put my arm around Dana and held her tightly, 1

1

I

wondering where Jesse was. operated

toy. Pulling

work. He drew his

it

lips

I

spied him opening a battery-

out of the box he tried to get together

in

it

to

a tight line and squinted

his eyes. Finally Jesse realized the toy

needed

batteries, but

He bravely fought to hold back the tears. So did but it was no use. They started rolling down my face. Nobody had meant to be unkind when they gave their gifts. Who ever remembers to buy the batteries? But people who have never been in a situation of deprivation sometimes don't recognize how many toys can be useless in the vacuum of poverty. had plenty of kids at the school who toted their Walkmans around and always had spare change for video games or a yellow canister of the nasty chili spices my sixth-grade boys bought at the Mexican store as a snack. there were no batteries in the package. I,

I

72

What Dana Gave

Dana and Jesse weren't part

of this group.

old indignation stirring in me.

Some

I

could

feel

K

the

kids couldn't get a

break, not even at Christmas.

As

1

stood there feeling helpless, angry, and unbecirably

woman approached me and you here with the children?" them at the homeless shelter," replied.

sad, a professional-looking inquired kindly, "Are "1

teach

some

of

I

"I'm a reporter, here for the train," she explained.

We

began comparing notes.

predicament, and ness, as

I

we shared

found out

1

explained Dana and Jesse's

a bittersweet

this reporter

moment

of one-

had been noticing the same

disappointments.

"Everybody means understand what "Here,"

my

well,"

1

said.

"They

just don't

always

it's like."

reporter friend said, reaching in her purse.

Her cheeks were as wet as mine now. "Please go buy batteries,

or anything the children need." That tender

moment was

the beginning of a wonderful friendship between us and

proved a bright spot

in

Dana and

Jesse's Christmas.

As the Christmas chaos wore on, Dana faded into the background, quietly observing while the schoolroom became a bustling clearinghouse filled with gifts and treats to be sorted and distributed as fairly and sensitively as possible no easy task. The visitors and calls from local businesses and civic groups wanting to provide parties and receive an updated wish list for the children came nonstop.

—

I

loved this aspect of the Christmas season.

who

gave.

We

vital

resource to the children, but

more than once wanting

alone for a while so

I

had

filed in

exasperation,

"I

I

to shout, "Just leave

did

me

can teach!"

Always, the children were visitors

loved the people

never wanted to turn the community away,

because they are a find myself

1

and out

feel like

in

all

the middle.

One day

after

morning, David burst out

in

a fish in a fishbowl, and everybody 73

^s»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

is

looking in to see what a homeless kid looks

"You're right, David, you're not a fish,"

Dustin giggled zoo." said,

like.

in

response,

"It's like

Then he and Monroe went "Feed me, do tricks."

to

I

assured him.

we're animals

work making

1

had

his treat or

gift

made

sure her

little

before she got her own. She was extremely

me

fearfully,

"How

Suddenly every child

tables

was

"Santa live,"

1

all is

Santa

will

at

the

know

first-

One day

my answer

the middle of December, Dana waited for

Jesse asked

1

brother got

protective of Jesse, and fussed over him constantly.

you

the

extra time to concentrate on Dana,

little

did notice that she always

ter?"

in

signs that

I

Although

in

I'm not a

a person."

fish, I'm just

I

as

live in a shel-

and second-grade

eyes and ears.

magic, Jesse, he knows

assured him, floundering

who you are and where my own faith in a soci-

in

ety that forced a child to grow up so fast he couldn't experi-

ence the magic of Santa Claus. Judging from the quiet around

more assurance was

order To make

Jesse's table, a

little

doubly sure

Nick knew these children's whereabouts, for

St.

in

we wrote

our writing project that afternoon

letters to Santa.

A few minutes into the exercise, walked up behind who was showing his sister what he had written: "I HOPE YU DUN'T KARE THAT WE AR HOMLES."

Jesse,

somber

voice.

I

"He

likes

us anyway," Dana declared

in

a

"Don't he teacher?" she asked, looking up at

ance with hopeful eyes. "All

1

me

nodded.

children are important to Santa, Dana.

where they

for reassur-

No matter

live."

Aaron, a third grader whose family had been

at

the shel-

ter before, interrupted, "What's the use of writing a letter?

Santa never comes, and

if

he did he wouldn't get us what we

want anyway."

When Dana saw whispered to him, 74

the look of distress on Jesse's face, she

"//e

doesn't know."

What Dana Gave

|€

Jesse seemed satisfied and went back to work on his letter,

pausing only to ask

In reality,

Santa would

as he had every year

1

how to spell Nintendo. come to the children in

had worked

at the

the shelter,

School With No

Name, because of the generosity of so many people in the community. The shelter families are grateful for the help, but no matter how destitute they receiving end.

When

are,

not easy to be on the

it is

they lose self-reliance, their sense of

pride and self-worth

is

feelings of gratitude

and resentment, hope and

shaken; they experience conflicting self-doubt,

expectation and humiliation. The painful question, "What's

wrong with me that can't take care of my own family?" surfaces over and over again. Organizations who want the media to cover their generosity add the shadow of public scrutiny and pity to the shelter families' own introspection. Year after year the whole scenario leaves me torn between gratitude and guilt for the comfort and abundance go home I

I

to each night. for

them

When

the holidays are over,

am

1

usually ready

to end.

Two days before Christmas break that year, Dana overme discussing with the other teachers my upcoming

heard

visit to

the hospital for radiation treatment.

nosed with cancer toward the end at the school. I'd

a class,

well cards, hugs, tears,

My

last

I

first

had been

disease, hospitals, their love

on

me

and predictions

for

and being

afraid.

in a torrent of get-

my speedy recov-

surgery for thyroid cancer had been a couple of

years ago, but

I

was going

over Christmas vacation for

in

any active tissue that

another series of treatments to

kill

might

a scary word and

still

diag-

term teaching

shared the experience with the children. As

we discussed

And they had unleashed ery.

my

of

be growing. Cancer

want Dana to be frightened, so

is I

previous surgeries then showed her the scar on

She reached up and

I

didn't

explained to her about

my

my

neck.

softly ran her finger along the scar. 75

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

"When they cut into your neck did it was comin' off?" she asked. "1 was asleep, silly," laughed, "so I

feel like

your head

really didn't feel

1

anything."

"Were you very scared?" she asked next, peering closely at

my neck. "When they

first

told

me had I

cancer,

I

was

frightened,"

1

know a lot about this kind of cancer." Immediately she jumped in, "Were you afraid you were

said honestly.

gonna

"1

didn't

die?"

"Only at

first,"

1

said.

"I

was lucky

that

it

was a very slow

growing cancer and the doctors found out about "1

was

afraid

it

early."

would die once," Dana almost whispered,

1

moment to stay behind that protective wall. "When was that?" asked. didn't know much about Dana's past, only that she and her brother now lived with their forgetting for a

1

father,

1

although custody had originally been granted to the

mother. Instead of answering me, Dana changed the subject.

"Are you coming back?" she asked with real concern

in

her voice. "I'll

be back,"

1

promised. This sad child seemed to have

an uncanny understanding of fear and pain, but where had

it

come from? The following day was preparing to close the school down for Christmas break. As the children made a mad rush for the door sighed with relief had made it through 1

—

1

another holiday season. Working still

milling

at

1

my

desk,

1

noticed Dana

around the room; good-byes are hard

for the kids,

and assumed D2ma wcmted a private one. After she was sure 1

the classroom would stay empty, Dana front of the

made

her

way

to the

room, hiding something behind her back.

"Are you going to the hospital soon?" she asked, keeping her hands behind "Yes,"

1

said.

"Are you scared?" 76

her.

still

What Dana Gave

"Not particularly,"

my hands

and eyes

I

still

gone there before and

I

She stood watching

want to know

"1

really

l€

answered, not really looking at

her,

my desk.

"I've

occupied with clearing

know what

to expect."

for a minute, then pressed if

me

harder,

you're afraid to go the hospital."

stopped to ponder what she was saying and

1

finally

I

gave her

my full attention. "Yes,"

I

said, "I'm a little afraid.

don't want to be sick

1

anymore." "Is

Nichole afraid?" Dana intently probed, not knowing

that she

had struck a tender spot. The

wouldn't be around to watch

my

possibility that

I

children grow was, in fact,

and my eyes began to fill with tears. Dana placed her gift on my desk and took a step back.

my greatest fear,

have something that

will

was a black-and-white stuffed bear. "This is Bear and he's my friend. hospital, It

and when your tummy

helps to hold him tight

"I

help you," she said. "Something"

when

He'll

go with you to the

starts to hurt,

you're afraid.

It

squeeze him. really works,"

she promised. Speechless,

I

watched as she presented a second

"Do you know who

this is?"

gift.

she asked as she held a

pic-

ture toward me. I

nodded.

"Who?" she questioned. "Jesus."

"When

"That's right," she said.

helped me, and mirror,

you

he'll

and when

it

feel better. He'll

almost

all

been scared, he's

gets really

bad you can ask him to help

whisper

your

in

ear,

'It's

okay, Stacey,

it's

over.'"

Totally overcome,

to her,

I've

help you too. You can put him on your

I

couldn't speak, but opened

and she shyly returned

my

embrace.

All

my arms

the warmth,

the love of the holiday season seemed to gather around

the two of us in that room.

I

doubt

I

have ever been given 77

«3*

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

more

meciningful

gifts;

how

so powerfully reach out to so great,

1

little

person could

need when her own was

couldn't begin to fathom.

"Thank you, Dana," was

all

During the next few weeks, quite regularly. Every time

amazed

wounded

this

my small

finally

1

1

1

thought of Dana.

the love and strength of this

at

out.

found myself squeezing Bear

did,

1

choked

little

1

was

nine-year-old

still wondered what experiences had left her with such wisdom and empathy. When got back to work, became obsessed with learning more about her background. What learned made her gifts even more precious. Not long before met Dana, the sheriff in a small town in another state had received an anonymous phone call from a

child, yet

1

1

1

1

I

woman who said she hadn't seen the neighbor chilWhen the sheriff and a deputy knocked on the

worried

dren

in

days.

door, they discovered Dana's

couple

first

mother and her boyfriend. The

claimed that the children were visiting an aunt,

but the officers played a hunch and pressed them with ques-

mother admitted that the children were The boyfriend insisted the children were fine, they had simply been "bad" and needed to be "punished." The sheriff descended the stairs into an unlit, windowless room to find Dana and her brother crouched in a corner on the damp, dirt floor. They had been given no tions until the

locked

in

the cellar.

food or water and were very weak. With one hand, the

was holding onto her brother, and

girl

clutched a

dirty,

in

little

the other she

black-and-white stuffed bear.

have Dana's "Bear," and her picture of Jesus is hanging on my mirror. Now and then, when am tired and wonder where can get the strength to face another day or I

still

1

1

reach out to yet another child,

I

squeeze Bear and

pain

will

go away. With her

gift.

me

1

can hear

and the Dana gave me more than a

Dana's childish voice promising

that the fear

picture and a bear. She also shared a portion of her innocent 78

What Dana Gave

|€

child's faith in the gentle voice of a higher power that comforted her during those dark days locked in the cellar—the voice that whispered, "It's OK, Dana, it's almost over."

^

79

That Can Be Yours

All

Math was first on the agenda the day Jenny called me at the had begun a fun lesson had been using for a cou-

shelter

1

1

ple of years.

Each child received a bag

problems that related to the colors

by

subtract, classify the candies

of

color,

lems that encouraged sharing. Then with a snack. As ing,

1

it

M&M's and

a

list

We would

of

add,

and create story prob-

we

could finish math

began to introduce the lesson that morn-

the phone rang.

quickly picked

of

M&M's.

was the only adult

I

in

the

room so

I

up.

"Stacey?" a breathy, female voice on the other end of the line said.

"Yes, this

"Stace,

is

it's

Stacey,"

Jenny."

1

said.

My heart raced.

"How are you, Hon?" thought should tell you "I don't have much time but before someone else does," Jenny said. "I'm going to have a baby." felt my stomach drop like someone had opened 1

1

1

a trapdoor There was a long silence before

Out

of the

corner of

ing through the air

my

eye

aimed

I

saw a handful

I

of

could speak.

M & M's

fly-

right at the fourth graders' table.

Warfare. "Jenny, are

Jenny was

still

you

all

right?"

1

felt

panic surge through me.

just a child, only fifteen. "Let

me come and

get you."

"No," she replied, "everything's okay.

1

just

thought you

should know. I'm not having an abortion, but

I

haven't

wanted to give her decided if should raise some counsel, but had no prepared speech or sure-fire it

I

or not."

I

1

81

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

advice for unexpected pregnancies.

Jenny would do whatever she

"Keep

in

touch. Let

"And remember

I

Icnew that strong-willed

I

she had to do,

felt

me know how you

love you." After the

call,

are,"

in 1

any case. urged

stood a

I

her.

moment

without moving and gave a silent prayer while the class

descended

anarchy around me. "Please, God, go with

into

all those talks we had. Help her to make good choices." was no stranger to the fear that Jenny was to face. remember the terrifying reality that a child was growing inside of me at the age of sixteen. was drowning in a swirl of hopelessness and fear, with my hopes and dreams shattered, but can remember my mother's words when broke the news to her. "I love you, Stacey. Just come home and we'll work this out." had Greg, too, who insisted he was madly in love with me and would never leave me or his child. He had gone on insisting the same thing now for ten years. He was the

Help her to remember

her.

I

I

I

1

I

I

grounded person tic,

our relationship, always calm and

in

and he always believed

in

me.

receive any of the support that

But

at

the moment,

dreds of at

M&M's

my third "I'll

"At five

I

was going floor.

who had

started the

I

left

said, putting

see every single

M&M

off

it

M&M fight.

on

my

best

stem

face.

the floor and into the

They scrambled at the warning. didn't even tell was gross when they stuffed handfuls into their

garbage."

them

eyes watching

the phone amd glared

over the

I

of

to respond to the hun-

all

five,"

realis-

Jenny would

if

had been given.

graders

count to I'll

wondered

had twenty pairs

I

me and wondering how

1

I

I

mouths, chewing quickly then swallowing, unable to bear throwing the treats away. >^

Jenny had come along early

my young and should be. Her 82

in

my

career.

She didn't

fit

naive stereotype of what a homeless child silky,

black hair hung past her shoulders, and

All

she carried herself with an

air of

That Can Be Yours

confidence and

style,

K

even

for

an eleven-year-old. She wasn't sluggish or out of shape as

so

many

of the school children were.

She smiled easily and

danced when walking would do. Jenny and learning

1

filled

became

me

up,

instant pals.

Her energy and love

and her innovations

proved invaluable. Being a new teacher,

was going garten to

in

my

for

classroom

had no idea how

1

1

to handle thirty children from grades kindersix.

With that many students

in

room, there were just not enough desks

me

Jenny told

my for

little

class-

each

child.

she'd be right back; then she went out and

gathered nightstands from the trailers so that each child

would have something to write on. As the children worked, she walked up and down the aisles and tapped each paper. "That's a beautiful A," she'd say to

one

child, or

"You do that

so well" to another.

When the class got so large that it became completely unmanageable, Jenny went to the shelter dayroom and recruited mothers. "My teacher needs help,'* she told them. When no one was quick to respond, she took one of the women who had "Come "I

tant

a

little

boy

in

the class by the hand.

on," she urged.

don't

know nothing about being a

teacher," the reluc-

mother responded.

"You just need to

sit

with Davy while he does his work-

sheet. You, too," Jenny said over her shoulder to another

mother who had three daughters between kindergarten and the third grade at the school. Jenny hauled them in and sat

them

at

two

different tables

where groups

dren were gathered and supposed to be

of five or six chilfilling

out work-

sheets on everything from colors to the parts of speech.

1

heard Davy shouting, "Where does yellow go?" and his mother saying, "You show me." Jenny introduced me to the fact that the mothers and fathers of my students were often as hungry to regain their childhood as their children were to 83

— «»»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

experience

it

in

the

first

place.

was the beginning

It

of a

very

long and loving relationship between the shelter school and the parents.

Watching Jenny work with the children and the parents at the shelter

me

gave

a better understanding of our purpose

The focus on academics became secondary love of learning was primary. If couldn't teach the parents to value education, then the love of learning was trying to at the school.

1

1

teach the children would not be kept alive after they

And

if

1

their shoes

and get

my

rid of

had gotten where they were, stcind their plight,

I

how

stereotypes about

if

I

to listen to

—dipping my toes

them and

learn from them. Jenny

say. Or, "Don't

one day

in

they

1

in

the

needed

encouraged

mother about

to take the plunge. "Go talk to Amy's

So.

me.

were ever going to under-

couldn't be timid

cold water of their world and quickly pulling back.

would

left

were ever going to understand the parents, walk

her,"

me she

you know Lois?"

after class, instead of hurrying

home

1

took

a deep breath and walked into the dayroom, where the

mothers congregated with

on me as

1

began to speak,

their children. All eyes focused "1

thought

I'd

home to face the mob." Two mothers shifted over to make a filthy couch and sat down beside them.

say

hi

before head-

ing

place for

me on

the

I

"I'm Lois, Ted's mother." shook her hand, which was chapped and rough from the harsh weather "I'm Connie. You got my Jackie in there. How's she doing? 1

I

worry because she's been out

of school for

months.

I

hope

you can help her" "Jackie's a great kid."

confidence. Give her

Connie handed

1

some

me

responded. "She

half her

with our kids you gotta eat."

84

want to touch, much

needs a

little

sandwich.

"Eat this, honey. You're too thin.

didn't

just

time. She'll be fine."

I

If

you're gonna keep up

stared at the food

less eat.

I

knew

I

That Can Be Yours |€

All

"Thanks,"

said with a sigh as

I

I

took the sandwich, "I'm

starving."

Each night room, say

school for those few months, no matter

after

how exhausted

I

was,

took some time to drop

I

in at

share a candy bar, drink a Coke, and

the day-

Jenny would come with me sometimes and give the mothers an animated recap of the day's events, always making a big deal of hi,

their children's

talk.

accomplishments. She knew everybody's

name, who belonged to whom. With Jenny parents learned to trust

me

as

at

my

side, the

held their babies, changed

I

diapers, sat with the mothers, and talked with the fathers

about the job market, the economy, and hobbies shared some

in

which we

common interest.

These were the most unusual parent-teacher confercould ever have imagined, yet the bond that was being created gave both the children and me the parental support we so desperately needed. Our talks confirmed my ences

I

people — regardless of eco— hope, hurt, and worry about essen-

underlying conviction that

nomics or environment tially

the

same

all

things.

As we watched the children play one Tuesday during recess, Margy, Jason's mother, smoked a cigarette and shared with

me

a lesson that

have never forgotten as we sat

I

on the cement curb.

"My old man and old lady, they were both alcoholics," she said, resting her arms that were skinny as chicken bones on her knees. "We never knew when we were gonna have a meal 'cause

my

all

the

oldest,

and

on me,

cryin' to eat. I'd

little

money went

for booze.

1

was the

brothers and sisters would be hangin'

go to

kids are hungry,' cind she'd

my mama

tell

one meal a day around here.

1

and say to

me, 'You know

got no money.'

we

her.

The

only eat

Then she and

the neighbor lady'd get their pennies together for a bottle of

wine and

sit

sippin'

on the

front

porch

all

afternoon."

Margy

took a long drag on her cigarette. 85

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

Jenny was one

my

of

lessons with this particular

first

complexity of working with people and deprivation. into

my

profession believing

if

I

came

could just explain to people

I

how

to accomplish a task that was for their benefit, show them a better way, they would be able to see what was offering was good to see it my way and act for them1

—

selves.

1

—

didn't believe in the quick

fix,

—

but

believed fixing

1

was possible if could just teach them, share with them what knew, love them enough. learned quickly that just telling someone doesn't work. You literally have to take them by the hand and work at tasks with them. You have to be mentor, boss, cheering section, mother, drill sergeant, whatever it takes and somethings and people

I

I

1

—

times this doesn't work, either. hours, even as intense as

many

the out.

1

1

was, could not compensate for

my students,

years Jenny, or any of

could help

—

1

also learned that a few

1

had gone with-

could teach, support, and love

—and

people would change, but they would change themselves. Karen, who had begged my mother to adopt her baby girl. had eventually. She was enrolled in the community college now, and my mother received a letter from her every now

and then. Maybe Jenny would do the same.

^ called Dr.

I

Samuels when

1

got

home

the night Jenny

phoned me about the baby. "1

know," he said. "She told me."

"Do you hear from her much?" "Not regularly." he said.

1

could hear him settling back

into a chair.

"How's she doing? Do you know?" "1

made an appointment

checkup.

I've

met the

for her

father. He's

tomorrow

for a prenatal

about twenty-one. He's a

nice enough guy. says he wants to marry her. but Jenny doesn't want him to just because of the baby." I

94

remained quiet on the other end of the

line.

That Can Be Yours |€

All

"She'll "I

do what she wants

know,"

to, Stace.

She's

still

a good kid."

said quietly. "Tell her to call me."

I

A month or so later, Jenny did call again. "I need to work ," she paused, then spoke, some community hours for. "for a crime did." It was clear that she didn't want to elabo-

off

.

.

I

rate so

didn't ask

1

any questions. Instead,

spend the following day with us on a

1

invited her to

field trip to

a local his-

toriccd farm. "It

be

will

muster.

fun,"

"It will

give

I

much

said with as

casualness as

you a chance to see one

And besides

you can bring your baby to

after she's born.

miss having you around as

my teaching assistant."

At the farm,

we walked

children explored.

warm days

was

It

side

1

could

of the great places

that

I

by side along a path while the

late spring,

one

of the year. Jenny's beautiful

of the first really

round belly and the

of my own first pregmy experience when was young, hoping

glow about her brought back memories nancy. that

I

told her of

1

my own trials would not

help Jenny.

1

in

told her that her fears

reminded her gently mitted

vain if they would would be normal and the responsibility she had now com-

have been

of

to.

"You come second now. The baby's needs are

first,"

1

said

was nothing new to her. had known her; her needs

before realizing suddenly that this

She had been a caretaker since

had always come

I

last.

The children responded wcirmly to Jenny as they always had when she was in the school with me. While she helped pass out lunch sacks, they mobbed around her trying to describe the old machines they had seen and

tell

her about

the horses. She promised the sixth-grade boys that as soon as lunch

was

finished she

old steam engine. While

gered the

large,

would go with them

we

ate,

she took

to

examine an

my hand

and

fin-

"diamond" ring was wearing. 1

"Where'd you get this?" she asked. "It's

my engagement ring.

Curtis,

one

of

my third graders, 95

^s»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

gave

me

to

it

me when

going to

last year. He's

come back and marry

he's eighteen."

"What does Greg think?"

good

"It's

him

for

me

He's got to treat infectious,

bubbly

know

to

competition.

little

giggle.

want to teach some

"1 still

there's a

now." Jenny laughed, the same

right,

day,"

she

said, a little wistfully,

watching the children eating and roughhousing on the grass. I

gave her a squeeze.

"Anything enough,"

1

you did

"If

so can

it

that confidence

A

possible, Jenny,

is

fell in

I

few months

just as

1

for

body. She doesn't

if

badly

when we

first

met.

1

held her baby

in

girl,

my arms

both mother and child. Since that

Samuels and

to her about her

It's

it

Jenny gave birth to a beautiful

I

prompt Jenny from time

asks

you want

said, smiling with a flash of

love with

later,

and quietly prayed to

she

1,"

had ten years before.

time, both Dr.

if

her

told

have been waiting

in

the wings

when she needs somebut when she does, talk

to time

come by often, baby and her plans.

1

Dr.

Samuels always

she wants to hear the things she doesn't want to hear.

not a lecture, just hard questions about where she

where she wants

He sees

to be.

mechanic: Jenny checks

in

his role as

is

and

something

of a

with him, and he gives her a psy-

He is still committed to her welfare and her success, still knows that real help is not a one-shot deal. still face the frustration In my work of wanting to do more. It would be more accurate to say that want to dictate more results. want homes, food, education, and security

chological tune-up.

1

I

I

for

my

children.

stop drinking;

1

I

want jobs

husband anymore; and But one. 96

we

can't im|X)se

We

for their parents.

1

want Dale to

want JoAnn to not have to be afraid of her I

want Aaron to do

his

homework.

our own goals, wishes, or help on any-

can only teach, support, and love.

We

give

them

All

That Can Be Yours |€

more opportunities, more choices. Then we love them regardless of the choices they make, hoping that they will learn to mcike better ones in the future. 1

want good things

for

Jenny and so does

Dr.

Samuels. For

now, we'll have to wait; but we'll be there when she wants

them badly enough

for herself.

«^

97

K

LESSON PLAN

'Wo^

'Ti^tn^ Materials:

Object:

A wok.

To help

and adult

paper, pencils, scissors

kids learn to differentiate

between

kid responsibilities

responsibilities. (Underprivileged kids often

burden them-

selves with worries about responsibilities that should be their parents'

or situations that they cannot control.) Activity:

wok on a table.

1.

Place a large

2.

Ask the children responsibilities.

you come up with a

to help

For example: Rights are things

Responsibilities are things 3.

4.

definition of ng/jAs

we have

we

and

deserve.

to do.

Brainstorm for ideas on what rights kids should have. For example: security

the right to be heard

education

food

love

Continue to brainstorm and create

lists

of responsibilities pertaining

to children and adults. For example:

Re sponsibilities

5.

Responsibilities of adults

qI kids

keep our bodies clean

provide security for kids

help tend brothers and sisters

provide food

do homework

pay

bills

Have the children write down ten worries they have.

Close:

been

Have the children cut amy worries from

Identified as

their

list

which have

grown-up responsibilities or things they cannot

change and put them

into the wok. Invite

before he or she puts

it

each child to read the worry

into the wok.

Help the children see that they are not alone

In

things they worry

about and that many adult responsibilities are beyond their control.

Decide with the students to

let

go

of these worries so that they

centrate on their responsibilities as children.

K

can ccmv

Blowin' Sugar

Anne Johnson snuck

into the

back

of the

classroom as

I

passed out an egg carton and a handful of small pom-poms to each student. While

away and

asked the class to put their books

1

get ready for math,

behind her

own

children

Anne

quietly took a seat

—Angel, David, and Marcus. This

particular arithmetic lesson

was aimed

at helping the stu-

dents understand that fractions are merely parts or portions of things.

pom-poms

We used

egg cartons as apartment buildings,

worked with concepts such as: If one person is home in a building that has twelve apartments, it means one out of twelve or one-twelfth. Most children don't understand something as abstract as math unless you connect it with something they can already relate to. Apartment buildings and people were a common thread, so

as tenants, and

we

started there.

"Remember the

rules," reminded the class. "Give everyone a chance to find the answer before you call it out." I began with a simple story problem and enjoyed the look of concentration on the children's faces as they worked toward a solution. As understanding clicked for one student after another, the excitement mounted. At the head of the rally was Anne Johnson. She couldn't keep from smiling, anxiously fidgeting as if she had uncovered a magic pebble that had to be kept secret. grinned, knowing she couldn't hold back I

1

much

longer

"Go ahead, Anne.

Tell

us the answer" "Three-twelfths or

one-fourth," she burst out proudly, while her children

cheered

wildly. 99

sfeJ'Nobody Don't Love

Nobody

As we ended our lesson, Anne asked, there

is

"That's

The Wow,

it,"

that

it? Is

that

all

time

first

this

responded, smiling.

1

woman

1

saw Anne Johnson,

thought to myself.

I

could be a movie star or a model. She was a

fine-featured black

tall,

"Is

to fractions?"

woman, who smiled shyly

as she

introduced the three children she guided into the classroom in front of her.

When,

after a

at a

invited her to

sit in

school,

1

few weeks, she confessed that

young age and was

she had dropped out

terrified of

with her children.

"I'm too old to learn nothin'," she said, flashing her infectious,

shy smile.

"You might be surprised,"

I

replied, grinning.

You couldn't

help but smile back at Anne.

"You really think so?"

"Come and see." think it was more than just math that Anne started coming for. As we talked after class, got a glimpse into the tragic life Anne had lived, a life her children seemed destined to inherit. No one had taken the time when she was younger to show any interest in her education, to help her develop her I

1

beautiful voice, to offer her

she was young, and

some

ately to gain

now with

is

bits of

success to build her

1

to be a child

when

could see that she was trying desper-

of that

childhood back

in

the classroom

her children.

Anne was on the

little

Anne had missed the chance

confidence.

many of the homeless and others When you grow up in poverty, often childhood

typical of so

streets.

stripped from you. Your playgrounds are drug-infested,

who

your nights

full

times. Since

most constructive

ties cost

100

people

money and you

lot of time.

effective

of

If

don't offer you positive pasleisure

and educational

don't have any,

you tend

activi-

to waste a

you are raised by people who don't understand

problem solving or

critical thinking,

you don't learn

— Blowin' Sugar |€

the skills you need to make it in this world. No one teaches you to develop your talents, and without encouragement you grow up with wasted potential and little self-esteem. Anne could have been a model or a singer or done any number of positive things with her

but no one had taught her to

life,

recognize her talents or to believe in herself.

you have grown up with men who beat women, too you marry a man who beats you. Or someone who hooks you for drug money because you have too little selfworth to say no. Maybe someone who eventually lands in prison or leaves you, or who you are left to run from if you can. Nobody teaches you the dangers of drugs or what alcohol can do to a baby in the womb. Nobody tells you why you If

often

should stay

in school.

The cycle can be unending. Those who come from generation after generation of people who have never owned land or a home, never earned a high school diploma or had fostered in them a sense of hope for a brighter future, find it nearly impossible to pass these values on to the generations that follow them. When a family doesn't have what it takes to give the kids positive experiences,

source

if

an outside

—a church group, the school system, the courts

doesn't step in to help, odds are heavy that the children will

continue the pattern. Little

family, a

ness

by

little

I

learned of the domestic violence in Anne's

tragedy that

among

is

children.

I

one

of the chief

causes of homeless-

learned of the substance abuse, the

heavy dependence on alcohol and drugs, which

mon among

this population.

I

is

too com-

didn't understand the reasons

behind the widespread alcohol and drug use among the very

poor and the homeless ed by parents

who

for a long time.

themselves and their families? instead of food?

Why was

loved their children but

Why

as the years passed,

I

Why

didn't treatment

saw

that

who

did they

1

surround-

destroyed

buy drugs

programs work? But

when people have so

little

to 101

«^*Nobody Don't Love Nobody

look forward lose,

much

so

to,

pain to cover up, and so

little

to

easy to take the quickest and easiest high. And after

it's

living for

years on the edge of their world,

them anymore. This was Anne's

story, too.

1

couldn't blame

She was the product

of genera-

were better off than and had clothes, and when Anne was

tions of hopelessness. Her children

many

—they were fed

sober, they didn't lack affection. But they

school and a

lot of

childhood. They had

had missed a

come

to rely

lot of

on each

other because they couldn't always count on their parents.

They

didn't Wcint to lose their

knew

care before and

mother

their

were careful not to arouse suspi-

again, so they

cion. But they

were

mom; they had been in foster away from

that they could be taken

tired of playing the role of protector to

mother when she was drunk,

their

and forced to cover

for

tired of being

embarrassed

her And even though Anne Johnson

loved her children deeply, that wasn't enough to help them until

she could help

herself.

>?

Anne had alluded

to needing to

make some changes

in

was walking down the hall, overheard her talking with her caseworker about starting her

life,

and one day as

1

1

in-patient treatment for her chemical dependencies. willing, but

sent to different foster families. if

She was

she was concerned that her children would be

A

judge had warned her that

the state took custody one more time, she might not get

them back.

my babies," heard her cry. at me as passed, and saw

"They're

1

Anne glanced her eyes.

down

1

waited

1

I

until

in

the hall and into her caseworker's office.

"What's up with Anne?"

I

"She's finally asking for closing a

file

on

his desk.

asked.

some

help,"

Shawn

explained,

"The window's open. She's sched-

uled to check into the center on Monday." 102

the anguish

she was gone, then slipped back

Blowin' Sugar |€

"What about the kids?"

said.

I

some arrangements." "Who's going to take all three of them? And they're black," added, knowing we simply didn't have a large black "We've

still

got to mcike

1

population in Salt Lake "We're working on

—

help

that's a

good

City.

Shawn

it,"

said.

Anne knows she needs

start."

For the rest of the day

1

kept hearing Anne's plea for help,

her plea to keep her family intact, her children together. That night

went home and told Greg the

I

beautiful family. Half-joking,

bring 'em

home and

save her

started a thought that

That night

1

tragic story of this

said, "Gosh, all

I

wish

I

could just

My statement back of my mind

that trauma."

hung around

through the evening as kids with their

I

in

the

helped Greg with dinner and the

homework. 1

couldn't sleep. Over and over

panic, thinking of Angel

1

Johnson and her brothers

woke

in

a

—Marcus,

the responsible oldest child, and David, the class clown.

David used jokes and laughter to hide his embarrassment at

One of his favorite jokes was about was about one inch long and very brittle; it never seemed to grow. In a melodramatic voice, he would describe how rats had eaten his sister's hair. Then he would put on this mournful look and pat Angel's head, while she laughed right along with the entire class. They were wonderful kids, all three of them, and they shared a special closeness. They covered for one another and stayed close in class, often standing in a kind of chain, touching, making not being able to read.

Angel's hair, which

sure they were always near each other.

As

1

thought about them,

1

caught myself wondering,

was in treatment? Could they just stay here with us? kept pushing the thoughts aside, trying to go back to sleep, until finally I decided needed to listen to that tiny voice inside me. The next morning at breakfast told Greg how felt. "We Could

1

take Anne's children while she 1

1

I

I

103



143

Hungry Eyes

was the middle of the night. was twelve years old. My mother woke me as she tucked a beautiful Hispanic child with long, curly brown hair cind huge, hungry eyes in my bed. It

I

"This

is

Charlotte Marie," she said.

"Hi, Charlotte,"

three. Shivering

whispered.

I

1

thought she must be about

and wide-eyed, she snuggled up next

we both

to me,

The met her two older brothers. They were sitting at our kitchen table shoveling down cold cereal as though this were their last meal on earth. Both had ragged cigarette burns on their hands and arms, and the oldest's left eye was swollen almost shut. The boys seemed more wary than little Charlotte Marie, but all three were frightened and hungry for and

I

whispered to her

next morning

until finally

fell

asleep.

1

security.

My

mother worked

amd was young, our home often served as an emergency shelter for children who ended up in the custody of the state and who needed care at a moment's notice, day or night. It seemed like most of them did come in the night, kids who had been in immediate danger and were taken from their parents. They ate at our table, slept doubled up in our beds. None of them stayed long. They were all quickly placed in permanent foster homes. It wasn't until was an adult that realized what the experience had done for me, how deeply had been affected. At a very young age, watched my mother reach out and provide security for one frightened child after cinother, with no questions asked when it came to loving. No child was too she loved troubled

kids.

1

for a juvenile detention center,

While

1

1

I

1

145

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

dirty, too poor, too far gone. Perhaps couldn't help but grow up to do what I'm doing today. Most of the children came and went without leaving the impression on me that Charlotte did. She was so elegant and dainty, and so receptive to kindness, that her image never I

left

my memory. 8€

Fifteen years later,

lobby of the

shelter.

1

1

saw Charlotte's

was running

to

face again in the

answer a phone

caught myself just before crying out, "Charlotte, It

is

call

and

that you?"

couldn't be Charlotte. Charlotte would have been older,

but as

1

watched

the phone,

1

this

young

girl

from where

stood talking on

1

could see the same elegance, the same dainti-

in the lobby, the same hungry eyes. From the boxes and black trash bags surrounding her, it was evident that she was living in the lobby of the shelter, which was opened to families at night during winter months. Her hair, long and wavy and brown, tumbled around a sad face that looked up at me as approached. "My name is Maria," she responded as introduced myself and held out my hand to her "Are you on the waiting list for a room at the shelter?"

ness about this child

I

1

I

asked.

she whispered, glancing over

"Yes,"

the

at a

man

asleep on

floor.

"I'm a teacher here,"

come down

1

whispered back. "Why don't you

to the classroom with

me where we

can

talk

and

have a snack." She glanced

at

the sleeping form again.

your father?"

"Is that

She nodded. "I

think

he'll

we're going

While

be OK,"

I

said.

"I'll tell

case he wakes up.

we munched on

that Maria 146

in

was

living

them

We won't

crackers

in

at

the desk where

be gone long."

the classroom,

1

learned

with her father and his girlfriend, Alice,

Hungry Eyes f^

after being

passed back and forth from relative to

They were staying

climb the long waiting

to get a

list

room

in

the family shelter.

Her father and Alice had picked Maria up last

fall,

and the three

his or in

new

wrote

had a

them had been

until just after

bus depot

at the

living

with friends of

New Year's.

was noth-

It

to Maria.

was here once

"1

1

of

cheap hotels

ing really

relative.

the lobby at nights until they could

in

down

before," she said shyly,

"when was 1

a few notes to myself after she

left.

twelve-year-old child streets or

among

who

this

has spent most of her

is

yet.

A

on the

way

of

sometimes hard to cure. They

sense of hopelessness, a feeling that

matter what they do right because nobody But Maria was different. Talking to her was innocent

life

street people usually develops a

thinking and living that

/

Maria

gentle, positive nature that wasn't typical for her age

group and experience. Poverty had not destroyed her

adopt

little."

is

it

doesn't

going to notice.

like talking to

an

little girl.

want her in

A week

my class

or so

at the shelter,

later,

1

wrote.

Maria and her father got into a room

and Maria started attending the School With

No Name. She took over the classroom almost immediately, carving out her own space here where she was safe cind life could be predictable. She tidied up library books on the shelves,

and each day as she came

in

she would erase the

old date in the corner of the chalkbocird and write the one, trying out

some new handwriting

stroke. After

new

watching

Maria draw, one of the teaching assistants gave her a sketch pad, and Maria carried

or twice a pictures:

it

around everywhere she went. Once

week she would stay

after class to

show me her

houses and families surrounded by birds and

ani-

The faces she drew were always filled with sadness. As the weather turned warm in early spring, the salsa music started up outside our windows. We had moved to the mals.

147

"^Nobody

bottom

Don't Love

Nobody

floor of the shelter

sidewalk

started, Lori

began to

and

I

looked

The

daince.

started jumping

do a couple

about a year before, and here, on

When

the music was loud.

level,

up

at

first

kids shrieked with laughter; then they

to

dance themselves.

quick steps with

of

the rhythms

each other across the room and

me

I

up to headed outside

pulled Maria

before

I

men on the sidewalk to turn it down. The whistles and catcalls started up as soon as stepped

to ask the

1

out the door. "Hey, I'm trying to teach inside,"

I

said.

"Ooo mamacita. Come dance with me." "Hey, I'm only twelve, can

1

come

what can you teach me?" they were saying in Spanish. "Hey,

A group

of Hispanic

I

to your school?"

could only imagine what

men always gathered around

flower box outside to dance cind holler and sing.

I

liked

the

them.

They were happy, never seemed down or depressed, and they were polite in their own way. In the summers they would be out here

all

day

in

thongs amd

"You've got to turn

it

Levi's,

down,"

I

crooning and joking.

said again, smiling

and

pointing to the window.

More Spanish. them to quiet down their boom boxes a few decibels, turned and there was Maria. "Do you know what they were saying to you?" she said "No

hablo!''

When

1

finally got 1

with a sly smile as

"Was

it

we walked back

naughty?"

I

asked as

I

into the school.

threw an arm au-ound her

shoulder.

"Mmmhmm,"

Maria affirmed, and we both broke into

laughter.

Maria was the brightest spot that whole spring, classroom where she was free to be her best During the time she spent

at

148

makeup

of this unit that

the

the shelter, Maria's family

consisted of Dad, his girlfriend Alice, and Maria.

design or

in

self.

bothered

It

me as

wasn't the the weeks

Hungry Eyes |€

passed;

was the distorted

it

member

roles each

played.

Maria helped with the laundry, cooking, and housecleaning,

which wasn't so unusual, but she also shouldered the and worry

responsibility

but-going-nowhere In

an ideal

protect,

for

two adults

family, parents

and provide security

make

a

commitment

for the children

parent to two adults

role, trying to act as

take care of themselves or their

Maria's case, the welfare to help care for Maria

and binges.

When

money they

was

little bit

of

money.

In

received from the state

on parties became her job to

regularly squandered

her father was drunk,

it

warm enough and had someplace

see that everybody was sleep.

to love,

they bring into

assumed a reverse who didn't know

this world. In Maria's family, the child

how to

living a fast-paced-

lifestyle.

She lived with two constant worries: what

if

to

they lost

because her father showed up

their place at the shelter

drunk, and where would they go in three months

when

their

time at the shelter ran out? Each time the family came close

money saved

to having

ously disappear.

If

would blame the other's habit.

Maria was caught

truth from the

lies,

Their lifestyle nights as father

1

and

left,

1

for

an apartment,

you confronted

would mysteri-

and drug or alcohol

irresponsibility in

it

either of the adults, each

the middle, unable to discern the

unable to help herself or her father left

Maria alone

much

of the time.

saw her just standing around, waiting

his girlfriend, doing nothing

Many

for her

because there was

when her dad and his girlfriend She was alone when they were high. Even loved her, he was too consumed with his

nothing to do. She was alone

were out drinking. though her father

own needs

to

meet

hers.

Substance abuse the families that

I

is

one

serve.

of the

It is

most

critical issues facing

true that insufficient housing

a problem, as are insufficient education and a

nomic

factors, but

number

is

of eco-

people can't take on housing or any other

serious, long-term issue

if

they are dealing with a chemical 149

^i*

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

dependency. And the greatest tragedy with substance abuse is

that people lose their connection to their children.

Meeting their need for

father.

it

than meeting the needs of their children. they don't love their kids,

be good parents, but

it

And

necessity.

and

fill

let

her

would

doesn't

mean

don't want to

that they absolutely cannot

not a choice for them

—

it's

a

1

watched Maria's

beautiful,

hungry

with tears as her adult role models would screw up

down

"Your dad I

It's

It

mean they

the children suffer.

Time and time again eyes

doesn't

means

without their drug.

live

it

hap-

It

was happening with Maria's the drug becomes more critical

pened with Anne Johnson, and

again.

will just

tell her,

have to learn from his experiences,"

wishing

in

my

heart that for her sake he

would hurry up. Maria's fear and disappointment caught

day

in

an entry

comments that

her writing journal.

1

me

off

guard one

usually write brief

to the children in their journals, a response to

their thoughts

know

in

and feelings to validate them and

someone

is

let

them

listening to them. Ideally the writing

serves as a daily source of therapy. Everyone needs to allow feelings to escape.

and the

If

these children keep the anger, the

loss inside, they

fear,

would become another generation

of nonfunctioning people. If

the children want to keep what they have written

vate, they put a star at the top of the page,

and

I

pri-

don't read

drawn rows of stars across was evident that she didn't want me to miss the huge, bold letters she had written in response to the question of the day: "What could happen that would make you the happiest you've ever been?" Maria had written just four the entry. Although Maria had

one page,

words:

"I

it

WANT TO DIE."

The next

day,

I

was alarmed when Maria was not

"Where's Maria?" a volunteer asked, 150

it

wasn't

in class.

like

her to

Hungry Eyes |€

miss school. Fearing the answer,

A hush came

students.

we

pened, guys. Should

I

over the

talk

about

cautiously asked the other

"Something's hap-

circle. it,"

suggested.

I

One student blurted out, "Her dad and his girlfriend got in He got drunk and hit someone and they got

trouble again.

kicked out of the shelter."

"Have they already

1

leapt to

my feet.

left?"

"Her dad has, but Maria slept here

last night. She's

pack-

ing their stuff now," another child said. "Tcike over,"

room

yelled to Lori, as

I

to find her.

1

sprinted out of the class-

could hear the thudding of objects being

1

shuffled around and the stifled sobbing of a child

Room

approached

11.

old tennis shoe so

stuck

1

when

The door was propped open with

my

head

inside.

Maria looked up

from the garbage bag she had been stuffing

Her eyes were red and her face naked with

I

cin

of clothes.

full

grief.

She rushed

to the door

and wrapped her arms around me, choking back

her tears.

took her

against

1

in

my

arms, and she leaned her face

my shoulder.

"What happened, Maria?"

"We got kicked "Why?"

She didn't answer, but

said.

I

and a humanitarian should

"I'll

street, yet

be

fine,"

They'll find a

I

be.

I

couldn't leave Maria to live

couldn't take her

away from her

Maria reassured me,

"It's

not the

way to make money so we can

"You can't stay

more

knew why. Holding

I

1

confusion

on the

said.

who reminded me so much of my own young could feel my growing anger at Maria's father. My mounted as wondered what my role as a teacher

this child

daughter,

I

1

out."

in a

to myself than her.

first

time.

stay in a motel."

motel again, honey," "It

father.

1

said, talking

won't be safe there, and you've

got to stay in school."

Maria pulled away and wiped her eyes.

my

dad's real mad.

If

I'm not ready to go

"1

have to hurry,

when he

gets back,

I'm dead." 151

^»»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

"Tell

me when you

and she nodded.

I

where you're going,"

find out

I

said,

pulled her close and hugged her tightly

one more time before walked away. 1

schoolroom rehearsed my resigwas worth another year of teaching in an environment so filled with loss and pain. The children have the

All

way back

to the

I

nation speech. Nothing

cilready lost their

homes.

When

they

move

with their families

to their cars or a shelter, they face losing friends

and

pets,

schoolteachers, pride and self-worth. Their greatest loss

is

was headed back to a harsh, drugs and violence, a world where she would

the chance to be children. Maria dirty world of

watch the adults around her providing shelter or a high.

enough

to

selling

themselves

Though knew 1

know he wouldn't

in

the

name

of

Maria's father well

barter his daughter to survive,

others weren't so lucky. Perhaps her journal entry was not an

uncommon As tion to

As

thought for children

walked.

I

where

1

1

wallowed

who

lived as

in self-pity.

I

was going and stumbled over tell him

bent over to pick him up and

1

she

did.

wasn't paying attena I

young child. was sorry, I

noticed Maria's father standing outside the shelter, trying to sell

a few things that would bring quick cash for temporary

shelter.

I

saw

that Maria's

boom box was up

next,

cmd

all

the

anger flared up again.

As

I

stormed out

of the building,

1

father complaining loudly to the small

about the callousness

could hear Maria's

crowd around him They didn't

of the shelter workers.

They had kicked him out for no reason, just because like him. They always had their noses in business where they didn't belong. had no business doing what did next. But my body went on automatic pilot and walked straight up to him. "Maria isn't going with you. The streets are no place for that child," told him. was still a little teary from my meeting with Maria, and could feel the anger and the fear comcare.

they didn't

I

I

1

1

I

1

peting in me. 152

Hungry Eyes

"Just like

I

told you," he bellowed, working the crowd.

"Going to try to

When he

tell

"I'm taking her

back any

home

can have her back," tears

me what

to

do with

my own

daughter"

turned and started to get nasty with me,

my angry tears

hold

%^

with me.

managed

1

I

couldn't

longer.

When you

get a place

you

My

between sobs.

to get out

shook him, and he realized how serious

I

was.

completely broken down, and he stood staring at this

had

I

woman

him on the sidewalk. "What do you want to do that for?" he said, mildly subdued. couldn't talk. He hung his head a minute, and the men standing around him on the sidewalk fell silent. "1 heard you've got kids of your own. Ain't you got enough to worry about?" shook my head yes, then no. bawling

in front of

I

I

"You mean get settled a self.

1

nodded

it?

little bit?"

again.

just a

little

while, just

till

I

he asked, starting to choke up him-

He put a hand up

to bring her things to

my hand

keep her

You'll

your room," he

on the boom box, and he

to his eyes. said.

let

it

"I'll

tell

"Thank you."

I

her put

go and turned into

the shelter. 1

is

hurried to

Greg

Maria's

in

my own

office

a good mood?"

I

boom box around

and dialed

my husband.

"Pam,

asked his secretary, while I shoved to

make space

"1

think so," she responded. "Why?"

"I

need to bring a child home to

live

could hear her sigh as she paged him.

I

for

it

on

my desk.

with us for a while."

never seemed to

I

call

him to pick up a gallon of milk on the way home or to him he'd left his paperwork home on the bed. "Hi, Hon," said as Greg came on the line. "I have a really tough situation here. may need to bring a child home for a to ask tell

I

1

little

while."

"Only one?" he joked. "Sure, bring him home." "Her,"

1

said. "You're a

good man, Greg." As hung up the loved to tell him how much

made a mental note him when he got home. phone,

I

I

1

153

^•••Nobody Don't Love Nobody

Back

the classroom,

in

found the kids mesmerized by

I

wanted to so

utes,

had

I

sit

on the rug and be anonymous

his subjects in his totally naked).

The children broke

beautiful sound,

watched the door

(but in reality

the rest of the afternoon.

thought to myself.

I

for Maria.

she could appear to be

down around

reached 1

for her,

It

was another hour before

body

until

Even with her world tum-

she wanted to appear calm. As

she could no longer

held her trembling

fell

in control.

her,

is

into uncontrolled giggles

she entered the classroom. No doubt she had waited bling

I

few min-

where the emperor parades before

handsome new robes

we would be contending with

What a I

Clothes."

for a

knelt quietly just outside the circle of children. Lori

just started the part

that

New

"The Emperor's

Lori's enthusiastic reading of

until

back the

fight

I

tears.

she collapsed on the rug and

asleep.

The other children were curious, compassionate, and envious that she was going to cind

I

live

with the teacher. Both she

knew, though, that there was no reason

envy the

life

Maria was

the world to

in

living.

That evening, as we pulled into the garage,

1

warned

her,

"Our home gets crazy. The kids are coming and going every minute." "1

won't get

in

the way," she said.

"No, of course you won't,"

I

chided, as

the shoulders. "You're going to be right

Maria seemed pleased with the

used to

it

— hurrying dinner,

settling

was an easy thing,

down

child to

fast

the middle of

it."

pace once she got

racing back and forth to the

local high school to haul kids to

and then

hugged her around

1

in

and from swimming lessons,

to the nightly

homework

time.

She

have around. She didn't demand any-

and she enjoyed being part

of a structured

and put her things away

in

the corner.

We

and

child-

make her

bed,

teased our

own

oriented environment. She would get up early,

daughter, Nichole, about being able to learn a few things 154

Hungry Eyes |€

from Maria. Maria did prefer chips and a Coke

for lunch,

habits you learn living in hotels and on the streets, and

it

was too compliant, too anxious to please. found her following me around picking up behind me as though she were brought to our home to work. Both irritated and saddened by her inability to be a kid, tried to convince her that she didn't need to earn her keep. My kids spent days coaxing Maria to shoot hoops with them or jump on the trampoline in the early spring weather started to bother us that she 1

1

But Maria didn't know

have come to her

how

naturally.

to play, something that should

She wanted

to,

but the concept

was more comfortable following me around the house, asking me what she could do to help. Finally, had had enough. gently took her by the hand and went to my closet to find my roller blades. "I can't skate, Stacey. Please don't make me," she pleaded.

was so completely

foreign to her that she

1

But

1

caught a

"It's

little

1

half smile.

time to learn,"

1

told her firmly.

Maria giggled at the strange design of the skate with the wheels in a

cill

line.

"How do you stand up?" she asked while

1

helped her

buckle up the boots. "You'll

do

great,"

1

assured

her.

"Don't laugh," she warned me.

We

my

wcdked carefully to the door. Then, holding

tightly to

arm, she began. With her inborn grace, Maria was a nat-

ural.

As she stretched out her arms

down

the driveway,

afternoon, she

we

all

cheered

for

balance and rolled

her.

was ready to proudly show

By the end off her new

skating on one foot and turning a figure eight

wide I

of the tricks:

made up

of

circles.

cheered inwardly as

I

watched Maria and Nichole

sitting

with their heads close together as they planned trips to the mall or the movies.

They

talked for hours, especially after

the lights were out. Nichole

showed Maria how

to enter the 155

'S'

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

childhood world of a young

happy dreams. Maria

still

clinging to her overalls

s

dresses

like

and Raiders

cover her vulnerability. But

Nichole

a world

girl,

dressed

full

of youthful,

a hardened street kid,

would

jacket, things that

persuaded her to wear one

1

when she went with

of

us to church, and

Maria slowly came to accept her femininity, too, and recognize that she

was

a beautiful

ing for the

first

girl.

1

was seeing a troubled

young woman who was

child turning into a confident

realiz-

time that she deserved to be happy.

checked every week with Maria's father to see what come up with. He didn't appear to be making much progress. found myself torn: wanted to I

kind of arrangements he had

I

teach him to

time

own up

wanted

I

I

to his responsibilities,

to save his child from his

and

at

the

same

bad choices. The

contrast between the two lifestyles was starkly evident to Maria. Here she enjoyed security cmd constant activities as a part of a family instead of the hours of standing around out-

side the shelter and worrying about whether they would

have one more day in their room. knew she loved her and missed him, but sometimes still caught myself I

father

1

wishing he could just continue to fade further and further away.

But the inevitable

call

did

come one day

in

got us a place," Maria's father told me.

"1

early April. "1

need to

talk

to Maria."

From across the room, phone.

1

wanted

to get

1

watched Maria

back on the

line

talking

on the

and demand some

answers. Where was this place he'd found? What was he doing for work?

1

my stomach

felt

knot as Maria wrote

down

an address with a pen. She was going. I

was

sick. That's

the only

way can I

think to describe

wish you could stay for Easter,"

"1

1

it.

told her. trying to

sound cheerful while helped her pack. What wanted to say. wanted to shout, was. "I'm not finished." What kind of I

what

Easter 156

1

!

was she going

to have

on the streets with her father?

Hungry Eyes

I

didn't trust

him

to provide for

anyplace for them to

live

lier,

^

didn't believe lie'd found

where she ought to

be.

did say

1

all

and more to Greg.

this

"You're not her mother," he reminded me.

1

knew, too,

that Maria missed her dad. 1

kept leaving the

room while she packed,

When came

myself together.

1

clean clothes, Maria confided

in

trying to keep

one time with an armful

softly, "1

miss

miss you and Nichole and being here."

my

dad, but

of I'll

reminded myself was taking the initiative of finding a home for his family. This was an important step. "We're going to miss you, too," said, while she sat on the bed, looking at the floor and spinning the wheels on one of 1

that at least her father

1

my skates. We

were

silent during

our drive to the west-side address

was not sure exactly where I town was not for young girls. There were too many bars and too few homes. The flashing pink and blue sign reading "Zodiac Motel" told me that we had found Maria's new home. Maria's father

was

had given me.

going, but

"Oh,

hang out

I

get

knew

1

Maria said

it,"

1

this part of

in disgust.

"My

dad's friends

up into the parking lot and stopped the engine. About thirty people stood in the parking lot, here."

1

pulled

laughing, arguing, drinking. Not daring to look at Maria,

looked instead

accompanied Dressed

shopped

at

us.

in

my

fearless sister Stephanie,

She looked worried.

the new, brightly colored clothes

for together,

Maria climbed out of the

car.

we had While

helped her with her things, her clean, wavy hair glistened

the sunlight. Nothing about her belonged here. Maria's father hugged her tight, face.

I

who had

1

could see the joy

Still,

I

in

as

in Maria's

Maria started chattering away, and he stood back to

admire her clothes. ings, trying not to

1

found myself fighting

be hurt that she was

down hard

feel-

really excited to

be 157

— ^Nobody

Don't Love

here with her father

Nobody

dump

in this

after

she had enjoyed the

new nice clothes, stability, and play. waved back to them as they stood in the parking lot together, waving to us as we drove off. Stephanie and cried all the way home. The whole way fought the urge to security of a home, I

I

I

go back and get

her, to bring

things she needed to be a child ful adult.

Firmly

home and

her

give her the

—and to grow to be success-

told myself, "Maria has a child's love for

I

her father. You can't take this love for her daddy away from

her own flesh and was not her mother even if wanted to be. But it made no sense to send this beautiful, talented child to live how she would have to live her."

I

understood that he was her

blood, and

1

father,

him as a person.

liked

I

1

in

an environment

One

of the

like that.

hazards of

my work

that aches at times like these.

have to leave the

shelter,

and

It's I

the

pit in

my stomach

hardest

when

the children

is

know they

are not going any-

More than half of the families at the shelter leave more stable environment, but many just repeat the cycle. They wind up back in the shelter, back in my classes, back in the same rut of poverty and bad luck or bad habits that keep them down. It's gotten harder every year, as more and more families come to the shelter not because they are chronically tranplace better. for a

sient, but

because the parents have

find housing. Today,

the shelter leave every day for work, they are less. is

One

they can't

lost a job or

even though more and more people

of hardest things

still

at

home-

about working with these people

not that they are difficult to love or to understand.

watching them doing the best they can when their best

good enough. Our house felt empty when

It

is

still

isn't

I

returned.

The gloomy

ing lingered like a ghost for weeks. Every time

feel-

someone

would find a trinket or sock that belonged to Maria, we remembered how it had been when she was here and where 158

Hungry Eyes |€

she had gone. This was always the hardest part of bringing children

home

—having them leave.

The Saturday before Easter the shelter to pick up

some

and

1

stopped by

We knew a family that had who wouldn't have a visit from the Easter

had brought to the school.

teers

just left the shelter

Bunny, so the kids and

my

my children

extra Easter baskets that volun-

classroom,

didn't

I

1

were going to

substitute. Hurrying to

even see the small

girl in

the lobby

who was at that moment trying to telephone my home. "Mom, Mom, look," Nichole whispered. looked across I

room and saw a

the

familiar face with

hungry eyes.

Maria hurtled herself across the room and into

"Oh

Stacey, can

my arms.

come with you? My dad got arrested last didn't come home." Maria had spent the

I

night and Alice

night alone in the motel and walked for miles to the shelter to call me. "Let's

go home,"

I

said as

we hugged each

other.

That

evening the Easter Bunny raced to put together one more basket of goodies and to find an Easter dress for Maria to

wear to the family brunch. Maria's father agreed, again, to until

he could provide a decent place

later

he

hit

was

rock bottom. His

let

Maria stay with us

for her, but a

money had run

few weeks

out and his

girl-

him and their downward-spiraling life together. She blamed him for wasting the money and he blamed her. They were both sick and sleeping outside in the weather that had turned wet and cool. He was finally ready to admit that he had a problem, and he realized that unless he made some radical changes he would end up dying and he would lose Maria for good. One afternoon, he called and friend

tired of

—

asked

we

if

We

could get together.

talked for hours. Like

had been caught

window

in

many substance

a cycle of denial.

of realization opens,

It

isn't

when they

abusers, he

often that the

are able to admit 159

"i^

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

that something

and ask

lives

"You know," beautiful "1

wrong with the way they are handling their He was ready to listen to the truth.

is

for help. 1

said bluntly, "you are destroying a very

little girl."

know," he said humbly.

"In fact, that's

about

all

1

know

right now."

become more

continued. "Your need for a high has

I

important than your daughter." Again, he nodded.

These were harsh and angry words, but

knew wasn't was a man who, in spite of anything else he may or may not have been, was kind and bright when he was sober. 1

1

dealing with a stupid man. This

"I

love your daughter,"

person into

in

who

the world

my home

to play

1

told him. "You might be the only

loves her more.

1

didn't bring her

games or manipulate you.

Just to pro-

you got your act together." "1 know it," he said. His eyes glistened with tears. reached out and hugged him. "Then let's get you some help," said.

tect her while

1

1

The help we back to

settled

on was getting Maria and her father

his family in the

Midwest where he had a support

system. There he could get a job, and hard

in

life

wouldn't be so

the small town where his mother and sister would be

waiting with open arms for Maria.

We rounded up

travel

funds through a volunteer group and an emergency assis-

tance fund. Rescuing a father and child from their drug-

was a good enough emergency for me. tickets on Greyhound, and spoke to Maria's aunt over the phone to reassure myself that the family would work together to raise this beautiful child infested environment

We purchased two one-way

I

to reach her potential.

>

When records,

I

a request

came

in a

few weeks for Maria's school

couldn't help but call the school in her

explained Maria's situation to a counselor 160

new town.

who had

I

heard the

Hungry Eyes 1^

whole story before

then begged her to look out for this

cind

particular child.

"She's pure,"

I

found myself saying. "She's something

special."

"She's

coming

to school

on time. She's well dressed,

happy, making friends," the counselor assured me. "Don't worry, we'll keep a good eye on her." 1

hung up and

good-bye

settled

back into

we

at a little party

night before she

left.

I

reed

hard. Then, after she

I

had told Maria

excused myself from going to the bus

station to see her off

engagement. The

my chair.

held for her at the house the

by saying

1

had a public speaking it would have been too

reason was that left,

I

spent a quiet evening reminiscing

and thumbing through the photographs we had taken while she lived with our

femiily.

They were

wanted to remember

her, as

1

as

1

and

full 1

of her

pictures of Maria

thought of her now, smiling

of hope.

love you, hungry eyes. «^

161

o

Now Josh, They're Waiting

Against

my

better judgment

my

"boy-girl" party for I

was

I

consented to

finally

a

daughter Nichole's twelfth birthday

about allowing her to grow up and

feeling anxious

had not talked to her enough about the values hoped she would take with her into young womanhood. struggling with the fear that

1

1

"Fear not," she said, assuring

me

down

party wasn't going to start her

and that she would always be

tion

that her

my

little girl. Still half-

and half-curious about her peer group,

afraid

prepare the guest

list

and plan

pop and sparkling

pizza,

boy-girl

first

the path of destruc-

1

helped her

for the big event.

Deep-dish

Mom

water, videos, with

and Dad

confined to the kitchen.

The party was a I

not remembered

hit as far as

my own

the kids were concerned.

pre-teen experiences

1

Had

may have

challenged their concept of a successful party. Success to a twelve-yecir-old isn't It's

like

good food, good conversation, and

having the courage to invite

all

the boys that

the

all

fun. girls

so they can steal peeks at each other from across the

room. The

girls, all

twelve of them, sat body to body on the

couch scarcely looking ate, joked,

night

were

1

learned that

still

at the

boy

guests.

The boys,

in turn,

and horsed around loudly among themselves. That

my

twelve-year-old

was

young. Their conversations were

safe.

still

The

kids

about sports

My daughter was glad to just be twelve. weekend as we planned the party beforehand

and French braids. All that

and then shared the

satisfaction afterward,

1

pondered the

very different experiences two twelve-year-old children 163

^s»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

could have

—

for

example,

my

Nichole and Josh, a student at

No Name. Both were the same age, both eldest children. But there the similarities ended. Like most middle-class children, the School With

Nichole has had the luxury of being a child. Her greatest con-

cern on her twelfth birthday was Will so-and-so like

Amy?

Will

who

to invite to her party.

David really come? Most of the

children at the shelter, like Josh, have skipped the childhood part of

A

life.

They

learn early

on

to think in adult terms.

about what he's going to eat, where he's going to sleep, what the family's going to do if kid like Josh worries

Mom or Dad doesn't

have a job before the time

runs out. The oldest caretaker.

the shelter

He or she takes on the responsibility

younger brothers and

sisters, not in a baby-sitter

a grown-up way, seeing to

and warm and taken care brothers

at

the family generally becomes the

in

like that,

it

of.

for the

way, but

in

younger ones are fed

that the

Josh looked after his younger

kept them as neatly dressed and clean as

he was, got them up for breakfast and ready for school. It was Josh, too, who took the brunt of what was coming when things went haywire.

By chance, Nichole and Josh did meet one day when my children to work with me. take them when can because want them to learn what have learned, that we are meant to love one another and to serve one another and I

brought

1

1

that

we

1

are not different.

1

educational opportunities touch, smell, just reading

When

I

listen, look,

about

also want

we have

them at

to share in the rich

the school, where

we

and act upon learning rather than

it.

Nichole saw Josh swagger into the room, she went

slack jawed. "Wow.

Mom," she stammered.

"He's cute."

"Cute" didn't begin to describe Josh.

Josh was

tall,

with dark,

wavy

hair

and stunning hazel

eyes. Dressed as fashionably as possible, with button-down 164

Now

collars

Josh, They're Waiting |€

and the baggy pants that were

in style,

he carried

He knew he was cool. had who was nerdy and who was cool, and

himself with an air of coolness.

learned from the kids 1

knew he was

definitely cool.

1

And now Nichole obviously

knew, too.

He had an arrogance about him

that

annoying but was mostly quite funny. And society labels as "naughty." Josh his heart

I

was sometimes like

was naughty

the kids that

at times,

but in

he was very gentle. Like many naughty children,

him to battle his way same time he had a ten-

Josh had spunk and enough

fight in

ahead

at the

in his

tough world, but

derness inside that allowed him to empathize with his peers. I

couldn't help but visualize him under the circum-

stances offered to

my

and to the kids

kids

middle-class neighborhoods in the

city.

in

most

With his zest

of the for

life,

charisma, and brains, he could be anything he wanted. His great

gift of

Usually the get

enough

compassion coupled

first

of the stable

He was the

vided.

and the

to arrive,

days.

to 1

perfect kid, except for one minor problem.

borrow Josh

tried to

to the class-

few moments every couple of

emphasize to parents that even though

when

this

was a public school and it needed a public school. That meant minimal inter-

to be treated like

school, parents

mother would come

for a

school was in the shelter,

ruptions

Josh couldn't

environment the shelter school pro-

Like clockwork, Josh's

room

sensitivity with sass.

last to leave.

class

it

was

in session. In a regular

would not be able to interrupt

public

class to talk to

withdraw them from class for errands. Nor would the children have constant access to their parents while in school. tried to follow this same policy with the expectation that my students would soon be in a regular school. The children were to learn to come to school on time, participate, and exercise a little bit of discipline. Parents needed to learn not to ask children to baby-sit or do the laundry, because their children needed to be in school. their children or

1

165

«^Nobody

Nobody

Don't Love

At first, Josh's mother gave me the impression that she had so many responsibilities that she just needed help. decided to let it go. Josh was a good enough student, and thought perhaps his mother needed his help because she was illiterate and she needed him to read something for her, an occasional problem with my students' parents. In any I

I

case,

I

tried to ignore

"Where are you

it.

going. Josh?"

1

did ask once. "You're a

the grown-ups take care of the grown-ups. Your job

kid. Let

to be a kid.

My kids are kids. do my job and

Josh had only shrugged and

let

I

it

—

go

is

they do theirs."

I

until the

day we

dissected the frogs.

This was the day Nichole met Josh. Although

my own

children were always enthusiastic about coming to school

with me, they were as excited as

me on

the day

frog. All

"Will

had planned

my

students to accompany

for the class to dissect a bull-

week had been pounded with questions I

my

well as from

do the

I

students

in class.

be enough frogs

frog?" "Will there

at

home

as

"What day are we going to for

everybody?"

they be dead already?"

We

arrived early that day, and

I

asked Brandon and

Nichole to help straighten a few things while

on the message board

for

some

working. Josh strode through "Hey, Ms. Bess,

of the kids.

I

posted

letters

As we were busily

my door.

let's rejoice

now. I'm here," he announced

before heading towards the bulletin board with a row of cows

and the words "Out Standing collect

some

of his

heard Nichole gasp.

When he peer

at

I

you

when

1

sauntered back over towards me, he stopped to

kids.

I

is

one

used to be

getting really gray." he said. of these gray hairs

really pretty with

started teaching you guys, this

166

before. That's

my hair.

"Josh, every single

I

the Field!" across the top to

glanced over and saw her jaw drop.

"Grandma, your hair

of

in

work from the day

is

dark

belongs to one hair,

but since

what's happened,"

1

Now

The hair comments had between Josh and me.

retorted. "You can ask Nichole."

become something

Josh, They're Waiting %€

of a ritual

Sometimes he would pluck a gray hair from me, "Whose name

is

on

my head

name was on

this one?" His

and ask

plenty of

many

them. He was a streetwise kid and didn't leave very

words unsaid

the classroom. Things he would never

in

my class. When

right out with in

est to

knowing

1

"This

is

just tried

my

hard-

freely express him-

but that he would

it

still

stay.

my

daughter, Nichole,"

daughter blush as

Brandon over "Hi,"

he could

felt

wouldn't appreciate

1

be allowed to

my

did,

a

keep a straight face and was glad that he found the

environment so safe that he self,

he

tell

come

teacher or think of saying in public school, he would

1

made

said, enjoying

1

watching

the introductions. "That's

my little boy."

there,

Josh said, flashing Nichole a wide

grin,

before he

ambled over to the table where the other sixth-grade boys waited for him. All frog,

the students wanted to dive right in and cut open the

even the

They

girls.

didn't

want

to wait to hear about

using the tools correctly or cutting carefully through the skin

without disturbing the muscles so structure.

organs.

we

Everyone wanted to get

A few students

looked a

could study the muscle

right in there to see the

bit green,

but Josh's face was

eager and alive with interest. Just as

we were

beginning. Josh's mother appeared at the

door and asked to see him "But look

in

Mom

." .

.

for a minute.

he started to protest, but stopped

at the

her eyes.

"Let's go,"

she hissed. "Now, Josh. They're waiting."

"Who's waiting?" eyes met mine,

I

I

wondered. As

could

feel his

I

looked at Josh and his

embarrassment as

his child-

hood power was stripped from him in front of his teacher and peers. winked at him to let him know that understood and it was all right if he had to leave. Nichole watched him I

1

167

^Nobody

Don't Love

go and asked

me

Nobody

we

before

left

that

day why he hadn't come

back. Something wasn't right. All that night

Who

1

kept hearing. "Hurry up, they're waiting."

asked myself over and over with no promised myself the next morning

could be waiting?

logical conclusion.

I

I

1

would take a moment with Josh to get some answers. But the following morning there was no Josh. By 9 o'clock 1

was

Room

22 where his family was staying.

small figure at the door,

As

1

something was wrong, so

getting a strange feeling that

hurried to

1

saw a shoulders slumped, head bowed low. 1

approached, the head raised to reveal the tear-stained

eyes of a devastated child. Twelve-year-old boys

who

are cool don't cry, and they

don't hold their teacher in public as tightly as Josh held me.

But

when

a twelve-year-old boy

is

responsible for letting the

means

that

whole family may be separated, he may suddenly be

will-

family secret out of the bag to the police, which his

ing to

let his

anyone

in

teacher hold him

in

her arms while he sobs for

the world to see.

Through

his tears,

he told

me

good-bye. Later

1

found

out what happened.

The

police

had apprehended Josh with drugs

session, and the family

knew they weren't for said the drugs were caught

in

in his

pos-

had been asked to leave the shelter

himself;

he didn't take drugs.

his, his family

If

I

he had

might not have been

the backlash, something he might have done, had

he thought

of

it.

But he was young and frightened, and

instead of making up

some complex

story for the police, he

admitted that he was the drug runner for his parents.

As the family

frantically packed,

Josh stood

in

the hall

watching the preparations that would

tip his life

upside-

down

his fault for being

again.

1

could

tell

he

felt

it

was

caught and that his parents were not letting him

feel any difBy ignoring him, acting as though he would not be going with the family, they were punishing him for being

ferent.

168

Now

careless and getting

Josh, They're Waiting |€

them thrown out of the shelter. he sobbed over and over, while held

"I'm sorry, Stacey,"

him and 1

I

his family ignored

both of

us. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

haven't seen Josh since, although

through a colleague

1

did hear of him

who was

of mine, Michelle,

visiting a

neighboring public school and overheard a couple of admini-

what to do with the "child from hell." hoodlum had earned that title, and she saw Josh sitting stiffly on the couch, his

strators discussing

Michelle wondered what

then

in

the office

face a careful blank.

When he saw down

Michelle, his

mask

hug him, he started to cry. miss Stacey's class. She liked me."

1

to

did like Josh, and

caring as Josh

is

I

think that

now a "child from

took the time to nurture him.

As she bent

shattered.

miss

"I

my

old school.

a child as smart and as

if

hell,"

it is

because nobody

more a matter

It is

stance than character Josh and too

I

many

of circum-

other twelve-year-

olds have their chances decreased, not because they are bad

or destructive, but simply because they lack the opportunities

and the encouragement children

Nichole have parents and teachers

require. Children like

who have

taught and

encouraged her to think ahead, to problem solve, to be motivated;

who have

bad behavior, and supported her lessons.

When

she

is

It is

in

swimming and dance we are there to

interested in something,

help her find and develop her

questions or worries,

we

gifts

and

talents.

ever have these chances. He opportunities for growth.

Among

know these

inheritance ily

is

did.

Among

things or

the middle class,

same we find

my

do

will

not receive these

the perpetuation of the America dream: I

When she has

are there to tcdk about them.

possible that Josh will never

least as well as

self-

helped her with homework, corrected

kids will

at

the homeless and the poor, the

often a legacy of poverty

and

failure

has lived this way for generations. These kids

if

will

the famstep

up 169

*^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

a rung, too; they will usually progress and be a off

than their parents, but they

intervention kids don't cally,

will

—especially the intervention

know how

to

little

better

never catch up without of education.

make choices and how

to think

If

criti-

they don't have a chance.

Because

of these differences, Nichole

better chance at success

—she

will find

simply has a

much

her talents, she

will

discover what she can do for her world. But there are other

avenues to save Josh.

We

can, the family should. But

not or cannot,

we

will.

are fond of saying, let

us also say,

We may

this,

when we see

we have

missing here.

170

to say, '^•

1

that they

will

do

my

if

the family

the family does

expect other organizations,

other agencies, other families to step dren. But

if

do

in

and save these

chil-

not, instead of accepting

best to

make up

for

what

is

September

1

Dear Diary: Today we had show and show.

We put

our dog to sleep.

our phone number

in

1

tell.

thought

kindergarten.

1

didn't

have anything to

we were supposed

Do we have one?

I

learned about shap>es and colors. Dad Ml be proud. Can

like

it

to learn

here.

We

we call him at

the prison tonight?

P.S.

Teacher asked us where our secret hiding place was.

one, but toolbox.

Dad does.

I

told

my teacher that

I

don't have

he hides his needles

in

the

McKenzie's Lesson of Love

"Good morning, Teach!" heard those heartwarming words over and over again I

as

made my way through

I

the crowded street to the foyer of

the Family Shelter. "That's a real nice

that beautiful "Yep,"

A

I

little

few weeks earlier

me

choice

I

I

sounds,

I

1

sure do."

would not have dreamed had agonized

of bringing

for

of that

my baby

months over the

had to make between staying home to be

or continuing to teach the children at the

No Name.

School With

1

it

had never drecimed

1

to the school.

believed

my baby

with

girl you have there. Do you bring work with you every day?"

replied, "crazy as

response because with

baby

thing to

I

had dedicated

six years to these

homeless children's needs and been their advocate statewide. Now was passionately in love with my newborn I

child

and firm

year of her

my

in

life

wasn't finished there yet.

One day

Gail,

less families,

she needed to spend the I

It

was a

real

my colleague who

first

loved these children

and couldn't ignore the nagging

at the school, too, I

belief that

close to her mother. Yet

and a

feeling that

painful dilemma.

ran the clinic for home-

spoke the unthinkable: "Bring your baby with

you to work. Newborns sleep most of the day. It will be good for the children to see some healthy mother-child interaction, and she'd be OK because babies come with a built-in I

The

immune

didn't care staff

saw

to

system."

how it

healthy her

immune system might

that the shelter

was kept

clean, but

be.

what 173

«3>Nobody Don't Love Nobody

about some of the people

and

out, or

who were

constantly tracking

even the germs from a classroom

Even more unthinkable was the danger

full

in

of kids?

of drive-by shootings,

the drug dealing, and the general atmosphere of anger and

violence that characterizes the neighborhood.

My head my

responded to the whole idea with a resounding NO! but

heart vetoed the logic with a powerful and inexplicable YES!

A tremendous weight lifted off my heart the minute made that decision and felt peace again, at last. also felt a 1

1

I

strange excitement as though something unusually good

about to happen. Explaining to

my

was

family would be another

The line that seemed to characterize Greg's response and patience with my work was, "Do what you have to do." Taking McKenzie to the shelter with me was a little difmatter.

to

ferent than

working

late or

for a little while.

Still,

McKenzie Anne,

my

boarding children

my mind was made

beautiful, innocent

the house

in

up.

I

looked

at

newborn sound

asleep in her carrier, and said to her, "Sweetheart, you are

about to become a schoolgirl."

McKenzie and

1

began teaching together on October

1992,

when she was

crisp

autumn blue and the

traffic

and shouting.

13,

The sky was a the noise of downtown,

exactly eight weeks old.

1

air full of

approached the school that day with a

strange combination of feelings: apprehension, excitement, joy,

and

ter

fear.

It

seemed appropriate

me seconds

greet

was Sarah,

about

fifty

after

1

that the

first

person to

reached the foyer of the family shel-

a longtime resident of the streets. She

with a large build, short

hair,

and a tongue as

was bit-

and sharp as any venom. Crowds parted when she appeared. She wore the look of a tired old woman who just wouldn't give up until something gets better. Sarah hung around the shelter a lot. and we had found each other the winter before when she had been raising hell ter

in

the hall of the shelter trying to find a coat. After she found

out 174

I

was pregnant, Sarah would spot me from blocks away

McKenzie's

Gift of

Love |€

and would yell at the top of her lungs, "Hey fatty, when you gonna have that baby?" Then she would jog to my side to place her grubby hands on

she Ccdled

my

belly to talk to "our baby" as

her.

me on my first day back with the words of caution were pounding in my just anyone hold the baby. Please be careful

As Sarah approached baby,

my

family's

head: "Don't

let

about germs."

Sarah spoke with uncharacteristic tenderness and low volume. doing?"

immediately

tasted so told

me

been so worried about our baby.

"I've I

little

what used

hunger to

last thing

to

feel

she

Guardedly, in a solemn tone that

be her white coat.

with tears.

I

1

flew out of

my

cared about was the dirt-gray color

1

what love was

from her blanket, fill

life.

my McKenzie Anne. All concerns

mind, and the

to

is

she didn't expect the request to be granted, Sarcih

asked to hold

of

of in her

How

Sarah's longing for the love she had

felt

like.

I

simply couldn't deny her

As

1

unwrapped McKenzie

noticed that Sarah's eyes were beginning

placed

my

baby's snuggly,

warm body

in

watched as the magic began. She held the baby over her shoulder and wept as McKenzie nuzzled her neck with her tiny, soft, tickley mouth. The meanness of our surroundings disappeared, and for

Sarah's arms cind

the

moment

me.

A power bigger than

everything was beautiful for Sarah, the baby, and I

confirmed the choice to share this

baby with these people who had become such a big part of my world. At that moment began to sense the importance of what McKenzie Anne could do here and knew she would be fine while she did it. Without any words at all, she would 1

teach the healing power of love.

As

1

stepped into the schoolroom, the children were anx-

had told them the day before that McKenzie would be coming with me to class and let them know what I expected of them. The smell of disinfectant filled the air, and the stacks of papers and books on the counters looked to be iously waiting.

1

175

•B>Nobody Don't Love Nobody

a

little

straighter than usual, but that didn't account for the

new and

different feeling in the

were present

to

"We been Stacey," said

room,

it

my littlest

watch over

was as though angels

angel.

lookin' forward to this for a long time, Miss

one

blanket. "We're

little girl

gonna be

as she tugged at McKenzie's pink

good

real

baby so that she

for the

don't get afraid."

McKenzie Anne Nobody whispered in the back or kicked anybody. No one yawned. The children's concern for the baby was evident. Tenderness, As

began the formal introduction

I

room

Bess, the

fell

silent.

No

of

chairs squeaked.

usually so well concealed in these tough, streetwise kids, had

surfaced

in

surprising quantities.

children to

let

down

their walls

To build and

let

trust

and get the

love in invariably

took time and work, but McKenzie accomplished

instantly,

it

effortlessly.

"She myself.

will

be our mascot

"If life

of love,"

gets unbearable,

from baby McKenzie and

all

all

I

you

told them, surprising is

a snuggle

the bad feelings will go away."

the days to come, the children spent

moments rocking and snuggling would

need

will

In

many contented

the baby. Even the boys

find reasons to take a turn to hold her

and caress her

soft little arms.

McKenzie's extended

visit

wasn't the

first

brought love into the classroom by taking Lori,

in

time

we had

special guests.

my teaching assistant, came in one day shaking the rain tell me that an old woman and two twin

from her umbrella to

boys were

sitting outside the shelter in the rain.

"What are they doing out there?" Lori

said, peeling off

her wet jacket. "it's

a

mother and her

looking at her.

I

Travis and Trent, I

filthy,

had met the family

176

first-grade boys,"

knew they were out

there.

I

said without

The boys were

but beautiful, shy, curly-haired boys.

earlier,

and

I

was trying not

to think

McKenzie's

about them out five,

in

the rain. "Their

and they can't

loiter in

Gift of

Love 1^

room won't be ready until

the lobby."

"What are they going

to do?" Lori wanted to know. do anything about the rules," snapped. Lori dropped it for the moment, but she and some of the children took turns going to the door for a look outside, where it kept on pouring. Finally, about eleven o'clock, Lori came in and "I

can't

1

cornered me. "Stace, they're "Let's bring

Lori

drowning out there," she wailed.

them

in

the back door,"

snuck the family

for the rest of the day.

in,

1

said.

and we hid them

The

"Hurry up."

in

the classroom

kids loved having a secret

and

went around the room whispering and peeking out the door to make sure no one was coming. We got coffee for the mother

and had the boys wash up

in

the bathroom. The children

fed the boys out of the snack cupboard and put videos

them

to watch, while their

mother rocked

stiffly in

on

for

our rock-

The class had one of the twins, spread-eagle and dead to the world in the beanbag chair while All Dogs Go to Heaven played on the TV overhead. It was more than just fun and being naughty by bending some of the rules, though. The kids were giving, sharing. I don't remember any fights that day. don't remem.ber any tears or hurt feelings or tantrums. It was a good day, with a peaceful feeling in the air. The days with McKenzie in the room were a lot like that. ing chair, thanking the children as they

fun being conspirators, and

1

still

went

remember

by.

Travis,

1

For the next eight months, McKenzie Anne spent

our hours of

as

at the

many of

school contentedly strapped to the front

my body where she could hear my heartbeat and my voice interacted with my class. felt secure knowing that she I

I

was warmly tucked against me, and she must have

felt

secure because she never cried or fussed. Miraculously enough,

my baby was

not sick a day that whole year. 177

^Nobody

Don't Love

Among

Nobody

the unexpected benefits of bringing McKenzie to

work were the reactions

me

asiced

my students'

of

about the baby,

I

mothers.

When

could explain that

they

very

felt

I

strongly about their children's educational needs and just as strongly about mothering.

more

1

found that parents showed

interest in their kids' learning

environment while

there with the baby. Mothers especially trooped

the

room

children.

in

much 1

was

and out

of

freely to take a look. This, in turn, benefited their

The minute a mother would step

inside the door

her children would becim with joy that she had been curious

enough

to investigate their classroom.

Of course, the most profound impact of McKenzie's pres-

ence was on the children themselves. Normally the school

common — hit-

can get pretty noisy, and angry outbursts are ting, tipping

over chairs, throwing things. Anger

control they have over their lives

dren

at the shelter school,

violently.

who

is

typical

and some

the

chil-

emotions out

their

let

at the lack of

among

When you teach four or more grades of students way and they are all in the same room, the

feel this

atmosphere can be supercharged with

my

To

the children

all

hostility.

how

surprise, after explaining

1

felt

about

my baby

agreed on some ground rules, such as keep-

ing the noise level to a

minimum.

1

thought

would take a

it

show enough discipline to be even but miracle we got. You couldn't hear a pin

miracle for the children to relatively quiet

—

drop, but the kids were careful and quick to

when

angry outbursts seemed to all

call for quiet

The unkind words and diminish, too, maybe because we

the volume started creeping up.

had someone else to think about besides ourselves.

As time went on and new children joined the

class, the

veterans taught them the importance of never being loud or

doing anything to frighten the baby. For those few months while McKenzie was

in

the classroom, the

tently filled with an unusual love

most important 178

gift

to

all

of us.

room was

and peace

Because

consis-

— McKenzie's

of that

gift,

it

was a

McKenzie's

year that none of us

million questions about this

growth before she was born

seemed

to stop. So

Love %€

ever forget.

will

The children had a child's

Gift of

little

—questions that never

got permission from each parent and

I

my doctor explaining how she grew We learned together the stages of development:

brought a poster from inside of me.

when

when

the eyebrows were formed,

appeared, and

when

the tiny fingernails

the fetus's ears were developed enough

to hear noises from outside the mother.

The

effects of

drugs and alcohol on the fetus came up

time and time again. The horror stories

enough had

of

to

make everyone

what each

street

my somewhat

even

stories,

1

sick.

The

my students told were

firsthand knowledge they

drug did to the unborn child shocked

calloused sensibilities. As they told their

knew some

of the faces

I

was watching belonged to me due to the

children living the stories they were telling

addictions their mothers had had when they carried them. The thought made me both angry and weary. These kids knew the facts about drugs as well as anybody, but it isn't enough just to know. pulled a little blond boy named Kyle I

close for a hug, thinking that what these kids really deserve to

be taught tial,

is

to value

life,

to value themselves

and to be given a chance to I

sensed from the

some

lessons, but

1

first

that

and

their poten-

find happiness.

McKenzie would teach us

all

only began to get a glimpse of the real

impact she was having on the children when

1

sat alone

one

Friday afternoon to catch up on their journal entries.

Kyle wrote simply, "Baby McKenzie makes

my

John wrote about

me feel safe."

lesson on the effects of drugs and

how

the alcohol and makes me sad to think that they get high even if they don't want to." As read further in his entry was pleased to learn that John had alcohol on our bodies.

"I

can't believe

drugs pass on to the baby," he wrote.

"It

1

I

come to value the fetus and its miraculous growing process. He concluded with, "I will be sure to protect my unborn 179

•»*Nobody Don't Love Nobody

child from drugs."

I

responded with a

McKenzie taped to the page and a

you how

beautiful

Almost

photograph

of

remind

I'm pleased with your choices."

life is.

had written something about the

of the kids

all

little

note: "This will help

baby's growth during the past few weeks, but tucked

between were comments indicating how the baby was

in

filling

previously unmet needs. Lana wrote about trust. "No one

my teacher. me change her diaper. was a was surprised how easy it was. think the me

has ever trusted

with their baby except

After lunch yesterday she little

gross, but

baby smiled

at

Dirk's entry

1

let

It

1

me."

was a poignant reminder

my

of the

abuse he was

baby yestermark on her face. It kept bothering me. know she wouldn't hit her but had to ask. asked and she wasn't mad. She laughed cmd showed me that it was only so familiar with:

She had a

day.

"I

kept looking at

teacher's

really red

1

1

1

a lipstick kiss that had been smeared."

McKenzie remained a Even

so,

I

favorite topic throughout that year

was surprised toward the end

of the year

when

1

was again reading from their journals on a Friday. The topic for Friday's writing was "What Makes you Happy?" expected McKenzie Anne Bess to be one of the topics but was sur1

prised that ten out of twelve students wrote about watching

me

with the baby.

One

little girl

My teacher She

is

wrote:

funny.

really likes her

You can

just tell

way she

kisses her

and leaves

baby

by the

lipstick

all

over

marks on her head.

Watching her makes

me

happy.

At the bottom she added:

I

wish somebody would have loved

that 180

when was I

little.

me

like

McKenzie's

In

one short

line, this

lonely

little girl

Gift of

Love |€

summarized the

aching, longing wish of every one of these homeless children,

and every member

over, to

of the

human

family: to

be loved

all

be loved completely, to be loved unconditionally.

had tried

to give that kind of love to them, but

McKenzie Anne who succeeded best

—

in

it

I

was

her pure, trusting

response to the children, she gave them glimpses of love,

moments when they actually experienced what that like. knew at that moment that all the risks and all the hcird work that year had been more than worth it. At the same time knew sadly, surely, my classroom would never be the same without her. «^> precious

kind of love feels

1

I

181

The GreatesfLove itestLove

I

had been watching

my students come

years before the day

I

of All

and go

for

almost six

my

found Bryan hiding under

during reading time and asked

if 1

desk

could join him for a

little

while. During reading time, the kids could be found just

about anywhere. They stretched out on the miniature blue

couches, curled up on the beanbag, or crawled under a

wander around the room and listen while gave the kids some personal attention and a chance to show off while did some evaluating and offered a little extra help. Bryan was usually eager for an audience. table.

1

liked to

they read aloud.

It

1

"No!" he yelled at

me

this time.

"Go away!" Burying his

tear-stained face in his book, he began crying again.

I

knelt

by him, slowly running my fingers through his thick hair. I had found over the years that the environment in the school is safe enough that eventually he would feel secure in releasing his anger. He did in a kick to my leg that left a bruise

—

halfway up

my thigh.

Earlier that day,

I

had written on the board

instructed the children to

fill

in

"1

cim

"

and

the blank with an emotion

and then use color words and action words to describe that emotion. The hope was that they would remember the parts of

speech while they evaluated some

of their feelings. Bryan's

emotion was anger, his colors black and

words that 1

day

red.

He wrote

action

told a story: "Packing, driving, yelling, afraid."

my leg and left Bryan alone for the rest of the he attacked another child then ran as tried to

nursed until

I

We wove

and out grade boys cheering Bryan on grab him.

in

—

of chairs until

I

—with my sixth-

finally

cornered him 183

"

"*^'

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

under a computer desk. He wouldn't come out when

him

to, so,

I

asked

with the rest of the class gathering around or cran-

ing their necks to watch,

down

started counting

1

a warning.

Come on Bryan." don't usually get to three, though sometimes we have a long two-and-a-half. went to "One. Two.

1

1

up the tense situation. Bryan stayed put, hugging the wall behind him with one hand wrapped tightly around a leg of the desk, his face puffy 2md four this time, hoping to lighten

red from crying. "All right,"

1

said.

Enough was enough.

reached under

1

the desk to pull him out, being careful to stay clear of his legs.

He

good

grip,

started thrashing around, and as

he sunk his teeth into

"You don't need stitches," Gail told patching tic.

"Why "I

hit,

I've

me up

the

in

clinic.

My arm

struggled to get a

me

as she finished

stung from the antisep-

did he bite you?"

don't know. He's been upset

kicked, yelled

at,

day,"

all

1

said. "I've

slapped, thrown up on, but

been bitten before." "I

1

my arm.

It

was only

1

been

don't think

half funny.

guess that makes today something special," Gail joked.

"Congratulations."

Back

in

the classroom,

examined the bandage on fully

1

my

folded note addressed to

"I'm sorry I

was angry

collapsed into arm.

me

my

chair and

On my desk saw I

a care-

from Bryan:

today. I'm moving.

Bryan

Now

1

could put the pieces together. For three months.

same bed He was just starting to get settled. Now he was leaving again; he was going to lose everything he had found. Homeless children feel the same loss that you and feel when faced with movBryan had found a home,

of sorts.

He

slept in the

every night, went to school every day,

made

friends.

1

ing,

a divorce, or the death of a loved one. Most of us experi-

ence serious loss only a few times 184

in

our entire

lives.

I

have

The Greatest Love

of All |€

had kids come through who have lived in seven different one year. They need two yards of yarn and a dozen

states in

thumbtacks

whose in

one

just to

map

the big

at

show

the class where they have been on

the front of the classroom. Homeless kids

can move seven or eight times

families are transient

year, leaving friends, pets, stable surroundings, family

members. No wonder Bryan was angry. should have seen it coming. had done I

1

this long

enough

had begun to expect and understand the outbursts that sometimes cropped up near the end of a child's stay. missed that

1

I

the signs with Bryan and had to learn the lesson over again.

Maybe

was

my

The average burnout rate in a two years, and had been here six. had heard a staff member say once, as one of my older students left, "We can carve his name on a bed post for him. He'll be back within two years." didn't want to stay if

job

1

like

losing

edge.

mine was something

like

I

1

1

I

Some people

got like that.

of if—it

As

I

was only a matter

of

told

me

it

wasn't even a matter

when.

sat there taking stock, the noise in the hall outside

down and the light faded in the classroom. couldn't count the number of times had wanted to quit. You get tired of wondering if you have done anything constructive. died

1

I

Wondering

if

you can penetrate one more

barrier.

Sometimes

the kids are so far behind, you just about lose hope. mostly,

when

it's

the thought of leaving tugged at

would tug

And

downright exhausting. But almost immediately

at

my

sleeve, or

yelling "Hi, Teach,"

from the

1

my

brain, a

would hear a

street,

and

I'd

little

child

familiar voice

be yanked

right

back into why stayed. I

The

kids

came needing so much, so hungry

for love, for

and for any little bit of childhood we could give them. If you wanted to be loved in life, all you had to do was come here cind give a little bit, and you would be smothered in it. If you Wcinted to change the world, here was a world that certainly needed chcinging. If you had scars that needed learning,

185

«»>Nobody Don't Love Nobody

healing or wanted to forget your

come here and

try to patch

own

you could

troubles,

up somebody

else's.

had seen

I

it

work over and over again with the volunteers who walked in hesitant and afraid and left with friends they would never forget. There is a peace that comes with giving, with service. Underneath the chaos, the noise, the naughtiness, and the anger, there was a comforting spirit in our classroom, and it was generally a happy and a safe place to be. could tell, though, that my time was coming. could give it at least one more year, but owed my family, too. And as much good as convinced myself that was doing, wondered what else was out there. would never abandon the children, but maybe it was time to move the battle to a different arena administration, more speaking and advocacy I

1

I

1

1

I

1

—

work, something. 1

had gotten

stretch.

getting

The dim

home

—

stiff sitting in

light

really late.

1

about

my

it.

chair,

and

1

stood up to

me was I

late

reread Bryan's note and worried

suddenly that he might not be talk

my

outside the windows told

tomorrow so we could

in class

That was another reason

1

had stayed

—

in

case

came back looking for me. Jenny did. when she had her baby. And Zach, the golden-haired boy from my first class at the School With No Name, had just left after a visit. was beginning to accept that couldn't be there always for everyone, but still Zach had become my symbol of hope. When really started to wonder if it was worth it or any

of

kids

I

I

I

began to lose hope, friend from

my first

1

could think of Zach, a student and

days

at

is

best told with

My name

is

Zach.

ily shelter. I

some of

was my

his

was eleven when

came from Arizona

over, but this

we came

I

first

No Name. own words.

the School With

His story

with

I first

my

came

to the fam-

dad. I've traveled all

time ever coming to a shelter Before

we stayed in our car for a couple of days because we didn t know about the family shelter I'd been 186

to the shelter

The Greatest Love

to

Some

about twelve different schools.

nice, but I

of All |€

of the teachers were

didn 't like any of my science teachers, they were

all

mean.

When be

I first

viaduct,

met Stacey

I

didn 't like her She expected us to

came looking

or she

in school,

for us

up and down the

knocking on the car doors and our rooms, yelling for

us to get up. I didn 't

wouldn 't come

want to get up.

I

had my

troubles with her I

we became and she really brought my self-esteem up. She kept on telling us you can be what you want to be. Stacey used to do fun things with us. She used to sing songs and read really

good

sometimes at

to class

first,

but then

friends,

us stories, things like that

Any mother would have taken Zach for her son. He was when we met, an ail-American boy with china-blue eyes who was cool and everybody's friend. All the children eleven

Two

flocked around him. gentle

adjectives that describe Zach are

and strong. His gentleness

of love for the people

ing in his

life.

is

expressed through words

and objects that have provided mean-

His strength

lies in his ability to

reveal his

most

vulnerable feelings and his undying hope for a brighter future. Together,

we described

the qualities

we

liked in

each

other through poetry.

MY TEACHER My teacher is a lady bug who is soft and gentle all

She

is

the time

a screwdriver driving you to

meet your goals

My teacher is a harp playing soft and quiet with style

She

is

herself,

My teacher is but

is

you

can't

compare her with anyone

a violet that speaks loud

so soft

it

heals us

all

187

^»*Nobody Don't Love Nobody

ZACH Zach

a strong polar bear cub,

is

hungry to be nourished by the warmth

of a

caring world

He

is

a

power

jigsaw,

away the rough edges

carefully cutting of his outer shell

Zach

is

a shiny gold guitar

filled

He

is

with a musical power to change the world

a super child

surviving the brutal realities of homelessness

Zach

is

a seedling experiencing the

with

much hope

and a budding

for a firm

warmth

of spring,

foundation

future.

8€

The shelter school was a new experience the teachers

had more time

to sit

down

for

me

because

with the kids. They

and give you work; and give you confidence in yourself by telling you that you could do things and you could be somebody when you grew up. The time I spent in Stacey's class was different, and if I hadn been in her class I may not have graduated from high helped you more. They didn just 't

sit

there

they tried to build up your self-esteem

't

school. I think she s the

wanted

could be what

J

and she

me

taught

one who brought to be, I

me

that staying in school

saying that

out,

could do what

I

wanted

was probably

I

to do,

the best

thing for me.

One at the

maybe a month after had started No Name, was frantically cleaning, trymake the 12x12 closet look more like a classroom. Friday afternoon,

1

School With

ing to

Feeling

overwhelmed and

and leaned

my

1

a

little

frustrated,

1

sat

on a stool

back against the chalkboard. Before

me

lay

the jumbled sea of battered desks, shelves of cinder block 188

The Greatest Love

and planking along three

and the was learning that it makes a school a school;

of the pasty-yellow walls,

matted carpet that was always muddy. wasn't the physical structure that it

is

the people

who

of All |€

1

love the children, the nurturing, the

motivating, and the passing on to one another the love of Still, wondered what it would be like room where you could open the blinds and not dows smeared with grime or blood.

learning.

I

1

took a deep breath. "Make the best of

it,"

to teach in a find the win-

I

was

telling

when a loud pounding at the window startled me. "Can come in and help?" Zach said, poking his head in the doorway. His smile was wide and friendly. He slipped into the room and stood with his head cocked to one side under a new fitted baseball cap, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. Recognizing that this was a rare kid who wanted myself

1

to maintain his coolness

and yet befriend

his teacher,

I

accepted his invitation.

On

that

first

Zach went out

Friday together,

cind

he returned, he propped his fill

me in on his

life.

we worked

for a while;

brought back a Coke for each of us. feet

up on

His dad didn't have

my desk and

then

When

began to

much money,

so they

kept leaving one town after another in search of better pay.

Zach described a life of unending travel with his father, of having to meet new friends wherever they decided to stop

He

for a while.

told

because he was

me that

"different

he had to get along with new kids

and new

all

the time."

"When was two, my mom and dad got a divorce," Zach said. "Me and my brothers were too small to understand what was going on. But for some reason she kept my brothers 1

and gave

me to my dad."

This stunned me. As the mother of a three-year-old son at this time,

1

couldn't imagine a mother being able to

her child not knowing

if

let

go of

she would ever see him again.

"Have you seen her since?"

I

said.

"No," Zach answered, "she didn't want me.

1

looked too 189

^s*Nobody Don't Love Nobody

knew like my dad." He said it so matter-of-factly that was a well-practiced front meant to hide his feelings. "Are you amgry?" asked softly. "No," he said, "but sometimes wish things could be different. Dad works a lot. We have to live, you know. He needs a life of his own, too, so sometimes get lonely." knew that Zach had a great dad, and Zach was aware of the difficulties his father was facing. But that understanding didn't make the

much

I

it

I

1

1

loneliness or

all

of the other

"What would you

fix

1

emotions

about your

less painful.

life

you could?" asked

if

I

him. Zach sat up straight to say something important. "1

love

my dad,

people just when

1

but

1

don't like to

finally get

move so much and

used to them.

1

get sad

leave

and mad

Then just when get better we leave again." What Zach was experiencing and explaining, would come to find out, was the loss process. It was the same thing Bryan was going through years later when he bit my arm. for a while.

1

1

Zach's feelings about loss, abandonment, loneliness, and a sense of security can

all

be read about

in

the research that

who was expehappen to create a child who does not feel whole. Zach was lucky because, unlike many of my students, many vital elements were secure in his life. He had a loving father and a strong sense of the importance of learning. Zach's father put his son's needs first, and Zach never went without food or a warm place to sleep. Still, many necessary components were missing. found myself wondering as he left if we as a society could pick up the missing pieces of the puzzle and create a whole child. Isn't has been done on poverty. But here was a kid riencing firsthand what can

1

that our responsibility?

> What made me

me was

the feeling

feel that I

into the hospital for

Barbara, 190

who was

Stacey was somebody important to

got from giving back to her

cancer While she was

in the class,

and

I

when she went

there,

a

girl

thought. "We'll

named

go down

The Greatest Love

of All

^

and visit her. " We went to the mall to buy her presents and get-well cards, and we got kicked out because the security guard thought we should be in school. He didn't know our teacher was in the hospital. When we got to the hospital room, Stacey and her mom were surprised to see a couple of her students. Stacey opened her eyes and there we were. there

Near the end of my first year at the School With No Name, was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. My first response was to put up a brave front for my class. But began to realize that they needed to know how really felt. knew instinctively that the whole situation could actually create a closer kinship with them. They were no strangers to anger, fear, and frustration. had an audience that would understand what was feeling, and they had a right to know. So had a very open and frank discussion with them. They wanted to know how knew had cancer, and explained that because wanted to have another baby, had gone to the doctor to be sure was healthy. The doctor, feeling my neck, had discovered lumps. invited the children one by one to come up cind feel the lumps in my neck. "Does the cancer make you afraid?" April asked soberly. I

I

1

I

I

I

1

1

1

I

I

I

I

1

"Yes, I

1

am

afraid,"

1

replied honestly.

explained to them what cancer was, that cancer

spreads, that the doctor wouldn't

my

how

know

until

he opened up

would let them know what he found out. didn't gloss over the problem, and told them exactly what the doctors were going to do to me when went in for surgery. There was genuine carneck

extensive the cancer was, and that

I

I

I

1

ing in their voices

We know you'll As

I

left

when they

said, "You'll

be OK, Miss Stacey.

be OK."

school on the

last

the children's father stopped

day before

me

at the

my

surgery,

one

door and handed

of

me

a shiny blue piece of paper.

"Good

luck,"

he

said,

wrapping

his big

arm around my 191

^»»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

shoulders and pulling back." big,

me

close like a buddy.

in

stood there stunned, smothered

1

musty

in

"We want you

the folds of his

coat. This wasn't behavior as usual for the

men

ciround the shelter.

"Thanks,"

1

said.

It

was

all

I

could think

of.

After he

left,

I

down at the paper where he had written "Jesus Loves You" and "When one door closes, another one opens somewhere else" with a picture of two doors. A strange sense of looked

reassurance

been and

and

I

filled

felt

the place where a lot of

had found each

1

Now

a fierce determination. other,

1

my

anxiety had

that these people

wasn't about to leave.

was closing was the door to my healthy body. Cancer wasn't one of those things that ever seemed to go away, and would live with the thought of it nagging at the back of my mind for the rest of my life. was angry, and was afraid. The doctors told me again and again that my condition was treatable and we had caught it early. was supposed to be lucky, but didn't feel lucky. spent every minute could before my scheduled surgery with Greg, Nichole, and Brandon. The kids at the school crept into my thoughts more often than would have imagined, had a huge envelope stuffed with handmade get-well too. cards and a lot of reasons to live, thought, as prepared for surgery. had a lot of work to do. The door that opened, a door of understanding, would be a door that let me into the world of the children at the

The door

that

1

1

I

1

1

1

I

1

I

1

1

I

school.

I

understood fear better now than

1

stood coping with a devastating situation.

The

anger.

thing

I

knew

1

under-

denial and

was the threat of losing everywas the world my students and their par-

threat of cancer

loved. This

ents lived

ever had. I

in perpetually.

woke in the recovery room could sense that the shadows moving in and out of the lights above me were peoAs

I

1

ple standing over me.

mother sp>oke 192

first.

Through the haze.

I

could hear as

my

I

The Greatest Love

and that makes a couple

"Stace, you're OK,

here pretty relieved."

I

of All |€

of

people

looked over, trying to focus, and saw

Zach and Barb from the school. Their arms were loaded with gifts and their eyes shiny with tears. smiled and forgot all I

my family standing around my bed. Zach leaned over me and asked in a

about

tight voice,

"You

okay, Teach?" "I'm okay, Zach,"

back to

sleep, feeling

I

managed

to get out before

1

drifted

very lucky to be surrounded by people

who understood love. My mother told me

later that

Zach and Barb had been

waiting at the hospital for hours, pacing around the recovery

room, hounding every doctor or nurse they could corner

my condition and care. know how

about "I

don't even

fessed.

"It

was supposed

wouldn't admit of

my students

much

to

to

my

they got

be

in,"

con-

Zach and Barb

mother, just that they were two

from the school and that they had no substi-

tute teacher yet for afternoon classes while

They

my mother

just family."

I

was

wanted to make sure

in the hos-

was OK, so they decided to take the bus up to the hospital to check things out. How they got the gifts, heaven only knows didn't feel it was my place to ask. All knew is that they had pital.

said they just

I

—

I

been there with me. I've

kept

in

touch with Stacey in a strange way.

moved

to

school.

Then one night I was

Alaska

I didn

't

call

her

listening to

Even though

it

was

I

Whitney Houston and I

heard her sing "The Greatest Love of All, Stacey.

When

like I did right after J left the

"

and I just thought of phone and I

midnight, I got on the

called her his dad barreled through my beaming with excitement. Zach's father had landed a good job at the south end of the valley.

One day both Zach and

door,

193

e^>

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

new boss of mine He owns the company and really cares

"Things are lookin' up," he said. "This is

really a great guy.

about his people and their "That's great news!"

ment

1

families."

hugged them both.

of continual disappointment,

1

ent express hope. Homelessness brings with getting stuck in the cycle.

it

to hear a par-

the threat of

you don't have a phone, address,

If

or appropriate clothing,

car.

an environ-

In

was elated

can be next to impossible to

it

many

land a decent job. Zach's father and

others

who

find

themselves homeless had also been up against negative stereotypes about their ability or willingness to work; yet

many of the guests at the family shelter get up and go to work every day. Many who don't have jobs badly want them. They are anxious, as Zach's father was, to be self-sufficient. They only need half a chance. To me the greatest part of the news was that a steady job for his dad might give Zach some time to stabilize, build a sense of belonging in a community, and heal some of the wounds he was carrying inside. "You know what this means?" Zach said with a huge grin. "I'll be in town a while. Maybe we could spend some time together?"

"Maybe,"

Zach and

responded, and gave him a big hug.

I

1

swapped phone calls frequently after he and and moved into an apartment.

his father left the shelter

Being a young mother myself,

1

had an

idealistic vision of a

mother's important responsibilities, and

was troubled by

I

the fact that Zach was being raised without a mother special

bond with

this child

because

1

sensed

nurtured and wanted desperately to help

wanted

to

do more

for him.

Zach was enrolled

new

friends, but

I

in

knew

1

couldn't

let

fill

1

felt

a

need to be

that need.

I

go.

was making he was do. To me, the

public school where he

that outside of school hours,

alone a great deal of the time and had 194

his

little

to

The Greatest Love

of All |€

seemed to be inviting him along with the when we were able to get extra basketball tickets or to go roller skating. The friendship between Zach and my own children was instant, and they were happy when we included easiest solution

family

him

But this was only the beginning.

in family activities.

One day the phone

rang.

alone this weekend. Could

1

It

was Zach.

"I'm going to

be

sleep over?" he asked.

This was hardly the typical teacher-student relation-

—but Zach wasn't my student anymore,

ship this

for

was

different.

1

consulted with Greg, and

Zach to be dropped

plans

our

Brandon and Nichole, then four and window, waiting

reasoned, and

we made

home at four o'clock on a Sunday afternoon. On Friday,

off at

Friday to stay over until

I

eight,

were glued to the

for the first signs of Zach's arrival.

"When's he coming?"

little

Brandon wanted

to know.

"Soon. You have to be patient," Nichole said. with the children's

talk,

watched

1

until

Amused

the blue Volkswagen

up in front emd Zach leaped out. The children ran down the stairs, pushing one another

pulled

aside, trying to get to the

door

first.

"Put your sleeping bag here," Brandon ordered, wanting to get

all

way so he could play. They down the stairs into the family room.

the business out of the

tossed Zach's belongings

"Can you teach excitedly.

wheels.

I

He had

stood

in

me

to ride bikes first?"

Brandon asked

just inherited a red bike with training

the doorway and smiled, watching as Zach

eased into his role as a

member

of the family.

Brandon had been wanting a big brother for a long time, and after Zach played the part on that first visit, Brandon wasn't about to let him go. So, we had many sleepovers at our house. Brandon cind Nichole were always excited to have

Zach come and play catch or board games or

just read

together snuggled on the couch.

One morning after Zach had if we could adopt him.

left,

Nichole and Brandon

asked

195

"

^Nobody

Don't Love

"He needs a "He has a

Nobody

they pleaded.

f2unily,"

family,"

reminded them. "He has a dad who

I

loves him very much."

This didn't satisfy the kids, but

we

settled

on allowing

Zach to stay with us whenever he needed to and including

him

in

Our

family activities.

important void

in

female, looked up to

family helped

little

He wanted by brothers and

Zach's

life.

a very

fill

by a most an intact and

to be nurtured sisters, and,

important, experience the completeness of stable family.

"You're lucky,"

I

move

don't have to

heard him say to the kids one night. "You all

the time, and both your

are here with you. You have a

May

my

of

second year

mom and dad

lot."

at the school,

was encouraged

1

was seeing and happy to be in a bigger, new facility. But trying to make certain we had covered all the material the students would need to progress to their next grade had buried me alive. By 5:00 p.m. each day, could hardly hold my eyes open to drive home. Keeping my head by the progress

1

I

my

above water and meeting

family's

needs were

all

1

could

focus on. I

didn't

even notice that Zach hadn't been

Just as

phone

1

was preparing

rang.

I

edgy. "What

phone tors 1

to leave school

decided to ignore if

it's

my

kids?"

1

it,

in

touch.

one day, the

but after six rings,

thought.

1

tele1

felt

picked up the

to hear John, at the front desk, say, "You have visi-

down

here."

sighed.

No doubt people from

the

community looking for we wanted their

a service project for their group. Of course help, but

1

was

"Stacey,

tired. "I'm

it's

I

responded

1

gathered the papers

quickly.

glancing over the 196

so

tired,

John. Could you hcmdie

it?"

Zach and Jim." "I'll I

be

still

right

down.

had to correct and

room which was

my jacket,

a shambles after six hours

The Greatest Love

with twenty-five kids

who wanted

bottom

spring. At the

where

to be outside

of the stairs, though,

of All

all

it

was

the worries

was greeted by two happy, familiar smiles. "Good news, Stace," Zach's father beamed happily.

fled as

K

I

myself a

new

got

"I

money

job in Alaska. You know, there's good

there and good schools."

As I stepped off the last stair, turned to Zach. "Well, what do you think about that idea?" asked him. "Fine, fine, it sounds kinda fun," Zach said. knew him well enough to see behind what he was saying. The loss was about 1

I

I

wondered how much could stand to watch. got a phone call. "We haven't left yet," Zach said. "Oh, good," replied. He then proceeded to offer me his most prized possessions. couldn't help thinking of a child to begin again.

1

1

Late that night

1

1

1

who

prepares himself for suicide by dispersing of

all

of his

personal belongings.

you sure you want me

"Zach, are I

asked

to have these things?"

softly.

"Yes, I'm sure. Will

didn't dare let

on to

you take good care

my

of

What

true feelings.

my

in

bird?"

I

the world

would do with a bird? I

"I

promise

will

it

Zach delivered

be loved," I responded solemnly.

his treasures the next day.

ted several Nintendo gcimes, and

I

now had

promised to love and feed every day good-byes were

weeks

after

he

difficult,

left,

but

in

One

inheri-

Zach's honor.

I

The

rookie. A few me know he was

knew he wasn't a

1

a postcard arrived to

finally safe in Alaska.

My son

a bird, which

night a few

let

months

later

Zach gave

me a special gift. It was almost midnight. phone rang.

"Stacey, "Yes,"

I

is

1

was sound asleep when the

that you?"

replied, not quite sure to

whom was speaking. I

"Are you watching the Whitney Houston special?" 197

^Nobody

Nobody

Don't Love

"No, I'm not,"

moaned,

I

not sure

still

who was on

the

other end. "She's singing 'The Greatest Love of

song you used to sing to

cried out, recognizing Zach's voice at

I

wish

How

was.

I

you know, the

All,'

us." last,

"Oh, Zach,

I

are you?"

"I'm fine, was hoping you were watching because she reminded me of you and how you taught us to love ourselves." was stunned into silence. I

1

just started thinking of you,

"I

and

I

thought maybe

I'd

call."

you

"I'm glad

did."

1

assured Zach that

wasn't too late

it

to call then listened for about fifteen minutes to his tales of life in

Alaska.

As child's

bed that night

lay in

1

amazed

full,

to see that

We

life.

really

we

we

1

talked,

my

heart

was in

a

hadn't ever had a bad day on the

had never been wasting

I

we

can make a difference

can teach hope through something as

simple as love. Suddenly job.

after

really

could save every child.

I

my

time.

I

lay there believing

lay there thinking of Zach. ^:

I

thank Stacey for giving

agement

all the

willpower and encour-

to stay in school, to think positive

Now I know how

things like that. ate,

me

and I know

I can. I

important

think she

'II

about myself and

it is

for

me

to gradu-

always have a place

in

my

Whenever

I

hear the song "The Greatest

Love of All by Whitney Houston,

I

almost always automatically

heart because of

that.

"

pick up the phone night.

and give her a I guess I'll always do that.

Calls from

one night

just

were

visiting,

when

it

even

if it's

real late at

Zach became fewer and farther between until about a year ago. My sister and her family

and

1

excused myself to answer the phone

rang.

"Stacey, 198

call

I

haven't forgotten you.

Do you remember me?

The Greatest Love

Zach."

This

is

were

of a child;

"I'm

still

graduate.

I

was now

talidng with a

And guess what?

be the only one

school diploma.

My

my

in

brothers want

tell

me

1

I'm going to

family to get a high

me

want to graduate from high school." asked him to

My memories young man.

liardly recognized his voice.

I

in school, Stacey.

I'll

of All |€

to get

my

GED, but

everything he was doing. He was

Colorado now, and everything was

I

congratulated him and in

fine.

"Can come and see you?" he asked. I

"When?" We worked out the was sitting at the bus depot with the jitters so bad you would have thought was a schoolgirl waiting on a first date. To top off my nerves, was practicing my confession. We had moved the year before, and Zach's bird had gotten away. Nichole and Brandon had been outraged; they had grown to love the bird quite fiercely. had never grown to love the bird, and felt guilty that hadn't felt worse about its escape. Then Zach stepped off the bus, and when our eyes met, just broke down and cried. wiped the tears away to get a better look as Zach waved and hurried over. He'd grown a thin, blonde mustache and though he was short, he was bigger than was. He still wore a baseball cap, and though he looked tired from his all-night bus ride, he still carried himself with the same style and presence that remembered when he was eleven and twelve. Now he was seventeen. For two weeks we caught up on each other's lives. Zach had been staying with his two brothers in Colorado, brothers he hadn't seen for fourteen years. He had also been able to spend some time with his mother. He told me of the anger he still felt towards her, even after they had talked for hours "Sure, of course,"

details,

and a week

1

replied.

later

I

I

I

I

I

I

I

I

I

1

about the actual circumstances of their separation. For teen years Zach had created a picture of a callous

enough to turn away a

toddler.

four-

woman who was

Her explanation was

quite different. 199

^Nobody

In

Don't Love

Nobody

order to receive the divorce she longed

for,

she had to

accept certain conditions. Her husband wanted Zach. His

mother agreed, thinking

would be temporary, believing him to keep a toddler around. However, the future would prove to be different than any of them had imagined. Even though it

that Zach's father's wandering lifestyle wouldn't permit

Zach's father continued to for a better

At

home

move from

he never considered

life,

place to place looking

letting

go of his boy.

visit we cooked barbecued hamburgers. Diet Coke by offering me his

the evenings during Zach's

in

together as a family

Zach kept trying

—taco salad,

wean me

to

off

all-natural Snapple. "1

don't need any of that healthy stuff,"

when

look this good

you're as old as

1

am."

1

insisted.

We went

"You

to the

batting cages, played plenty of late-night card games, and

laughed a

our

lot.

Even though many changes had taken place

home — the

kids were

much

in

older and McKenzie had

—

been born to us six months earlier Zach still fit right in. Brandon kept Zach busy in the ciftemoons with baseball, and Zach was cute with the baby, snuggling her a lot and talking to her in

baby

talk

when he

figured

no one else was

During the days, Zach went back with

With No "This

used to

Name to teach. is weird for me

live,"

me

listening.

to the School

to be a volunteer in a place

where

he said while he wandered around the brightly

room, peering

1

lit

the bookshelves stuffed with children's books

at

and the counters piled with student work and class

"Where did you

pets.

get the rabbit?" he asked, kneeling

bunny behind the ears. "A volunteer who was moving and thought good place for the rabbit. He's smart."

down

to rub our white

"Does he

just

"She plays bit's big,

200

it.

was a

run around loose?" Zach questioned.

ball

with the kids,"

1

explained, giving the rab-

pink ball a soft kick. Sandy took

to retrieve

this

off

across the room

The Greatest Love

"This place

you

a

monsters,"

little

1

you

liked us,"

Then

retorted.

I

1

didn't

know

if

1

bet

Til

Zach teased. said soberly,

think a lot of the kids are different now, though."

Zach's attention now, but I

than the old place, but

lot better

don't like these kids as well as

"You were "I

is

of All |€

I

had

could explciin what

felt.

"Back

at the old shelter, there

were a

lot of

people

like

you and your dad, people who moved around a lot and didn't settle down. There were a lot you knew had been poor, really poor,

and deprived

who've have

for a long time.

just lost their jobs

lots of families

and

Now we're

can't

pay the

who come through who

they would need someplace

like this."

1

getting people

rent.

1

think

we

never imagined

stopped myself, look-

ing into Zach's face, knotted with thought.

Zach nodded, as the children began bustling through the door.

came back I've went to school with Stacey to help and it makes me feel good to see the changes that

Since I

her

kids,

have taken

place.

The school's four times

they've got regular desks

and more

bigger,

it's

cleaner,

books. They've got paper,

we And I feel good because we had a couple come in, but now they have a lot of volunteers

they've got pencils, they've got everything now. Before

didn 't have anything.

of volunteers

come in, actors and all kinds of people. It's unbelievable, and it makes me feel good that I can sit down and help the kids with their math or something because I've stayed in school and I know how to do it.

|€ I

kept an eye on Zach as he worked with the students. He

would look up from where he was helping a second grader work with the counting blocks or from kneeling over an English worksheet at one of the low tables and grin. He helped the kids with their math, and he shared with them what he had lecimed from school and from

life

on the move 201

^s»Nobody Don't Love Nobody

with his father: Stay self.

I

Believe in yourself. Love your-

in school.

could see him giving back to his world what had been

given to him.

/

think homelessness

should be off the

is

a

terrible thing. I think

They should

streets.

everybody

have a place

all

to be,

home or at a job. They should all have something to do. When I was homeless it made me feel real bad as a kid

like at

because everything was gone

my

—my dreams,

my

my

hopes,

had nowhere to go run and hide if I got mad. It was just down, and I have a feeling kids now feel the same way I did and probably even more so because more and more people are becoming homeless. And it's really sad clothes,

house. I

because there are a ting

on

their

lot

of rich people out there

money and don even

to give their

't

money—just

volunteer,

who

are just

volunteer They don

't

would help out a

it

would also help out the kids tremendously

lot.

't

make

fun of them. That

my biggest thing—kids making fun you were

in the

Too soon

we

it

"Spend

"I'm t-shirt.

was time

for

Zach to go back to Colorado. As

lots of

to take

back with him from

I

proud

"I

hope

time with your kids and you'll be happy,"

of you," you'll

I

told him, while

always remember

1

smoothed a folded

that."

he promised. Then he added, "Don't forget me."

will,"

"1

won't,"

I

assured him.

How could

learned from homelessness that

body. I didn

't

think

it

would happen

to

1

ever forget.

it

me

can happen but

it

did

schools should give kids lessons, tours, field 202

asked him

this trip.

"And work hard."

"I

I've

a

of me, saying, "Oh, huh huh,

did his laundry together, late one evening.

said.

to

was probably

homeless shelter" and laughing at me.

what he was going he

It

buy them new

to

shoes or something when they leave so that when they go regular school kids don

sit-

have

I

to any-

think the

trips,

like

The Greatest Love

of All |€

overnight stays in a homeless shelter just so everybody

in the

what homelessness

wish,

world I'd

will realize

wish that

all the

people

in the

is like. If

I

had one

world had a place

to live

and

always had food on their table and always had clothes on their backs. That would be my wish to the my life for something like that. «^

whole world.

I'd give

up

203

.

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

I

was

giving a tour of the shelter yesterday

woman

me and

leaned over to

gust you? You know,

all

your classroom window I

how

politely said, "No,

furious

before

I

felt;

I

when an

elderly

whispered, "Doesn't this

dis-

the lazy people standing outside

who don't want to work?" just makes me sad." didn't

it

let

I

remembered my

first

days

on

at the shelter,

knew these people. Still, all the way home kept chid"Why didn't you take the time to teach her? Why you say, These people are real human beings with perI

I

ing myself. didn't

dreams, and

sonalities, with hopes,

our brothers and

much I

for

I

my

These people are

me

so

large audience that night

well-known child advocacy presentation and

two hours about the adult homeless population.

To me,

my

students' parents, the guests at the

men wandering

shelter, the

They

fears.

Her naive question upset

when went to speak to a

that

scrapped

spoke

sisters.'"

women's

the streets are not faceless peo-

numbers to be counted as a statistic indicating how bad homelessness is getting. They are people. People with immense empathy and compassion. People who ple.

hunger

are not

for a better

haven't had

life

just as

we

all

do. People

who

often

a childhood that provided self-esteem or self-

worth. People

like Jim.

.

"Another day, so few dollars,"

the familiar faces that greeted

1

joked out loud as

me

my

along

I

passed

daily walk

through the streets to the men's shelter and then into

chose this path because understanding of what kept haunting me classroom.

1

my

needed a better as drove away to

I

1

205

^Nobody

Don't Love

the security of

Nobody

my own

home: the images

beautiful

of scores

of adults standing outside the shelter with looks of hopeless-

needed to know them. "How do they feel?" wondered. "What do they hope for? What do they have to teach me about homelessness?" felt strongly that not enough was being done, but didn't know ness worn on their weary faces.

I

I

1

1

what they

really

needed

lesson from a wise old years.

We became

one day

until

man who had

learned a valuable

1

one morning as

pals

on the streets

lived

for

cheerfully joked

I

with the guys gathered outside the shelter about being just

enough to keep coming back year

crcizy

the money,"

"It isn't

than

I

complained.

1

actually take home."

walk, an old

man

year

after

pay more

"1

From where he

in

on the

sat

taxes side-

looked up with tired eyes.

"You're not here for the dollars," he said. "I've watched

you.

1

seen you

you even

light

get out of

up when the

"You're a wise man,"

sidewalk. His face glove,

and wisps

children nourish

as

much

who knows, maybe

as

1

1

me

on

com

"The

a pretty

my mind

forever

when was 1

wouldn't be on the streets today." 1

thought out loud. There

1

with things that happened long ago?

appreciated this heartfelt wisdom, and the next morning

1

hadn't given ter staff

me

his

name, so

I

would know who was 1

wasn't sure

if

talking about.

this

man. He

the men's shel-

To

my surprise,

needed to do was describe him and they knew immedi-

ately 206

silk.

It's

like that

stopped by the shelter desk to inquire about

I

the

child inside of

far back,

all

man on

him who had never been reached. Is what causes homelessness, wondered? Does it start so

was a that

you before

an old leather

nurture them.

that imprinted

wish someone would have,"

"1

of

of his gray hair floated like

me

wish someone would have inspired

a kid;

I

said, studying the old

I

was burnt the brown

good trade." Then he spoke words "1

kids yell out to

your car"

who

1

meant.

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

"His

name

Jim.

is

He was

lookin' for you," said

one

|€

staff

member. "Me?"

I

said.

"Yeaii,"

he responded,

the desk. "He had a

rifling tiirougli

The

a pile of notes on

member

picked up an intercom microphone and blared out through the building: "Jim,

In a like

gift

the old school

for you."

marm

is

staff

here to see you."

few moments, Jim came barreling through the door

a child on Christmas morning. As he caught his breath,

he presented "This

is

me with a gray and

for you,"

rose colored

quilt.

he said beaming from ear to

too nice to use out on the streets, and that's where

ear. "It's 1

usually

sleep." "It's

beautiful."

"It's

the only really nice thing

got no use for "I

it,"

can't take

it,"

I

own, but

I

haven't really

insisted.

"Sure you can take

You can wrap up

I

Jim admitted.

in

it

it.

I

already told you,

at night.

It'll

remind you

I

don't use of the

it.

people

at the shelter."

That night cuddled up on the couch with the quilt wrapped around me. My son Brandon asked where it came from, and told him of my encounter with Jim and what Jim had taught me. Intrigue filled Brandon's eyes as told him I

I

I

about the adults

at the shelter.

"You know, Brandon,"

1

said, as

he curled up underneath

the quilt with me, "somebody didn't take the time to that he

was important. Somebody missed the chance

tell

Jim

to love

him through a lonely childhood, so he turned to alcohol to soothe his pain." In Jim's honor we named the quilt The Love Quilt. We tried to treat it the same way we hope we would have treated Jim if we had been lucky enough to have known him as a child. Each night we snuggled up in it and remembered what this priceless gift symbolized. I learned a very simple lesson that day.

We

never know

who

is

watching;

we 207

^s*

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

we have No matter how simple the

never know when what

to give might

need.

act

someone's

get another opportunity to touch

woman who

Sarah was the to be born.

I

life.

me

waited with

McKenzie

for

could hear her cussing out the guys gathered on

the sidewalk every morning as

would move out her head-on.

I

way

of her

walked into the

I

in

1

heard her

the next county, and enough of a

bully to have taken care of herself for years I

Men

hassled her. She was crude and crass,

loud enough to be heard

Sarah and

shelter.

to save themselves from tackling

trembled myself sometimes as

men who

scold the

meet another's

may seem, we may never

had our

first

on the

streets.

encounter on a cold, snowy day.

She walked into the shelter looking

for a coat.

I

could hear

her from the desk. Her abrasiveness didn't get her very but

far,

maybe Sarah didn't know demand in order to get by.

couldn't help thinking that

I

any better Maybe Sarah had to

Maybe

it

was a skill she developed from childhood in order The family shelter couldn't give her a coat in any

to survive.

case because the donations were strictly for the guests living there, but at the

I

couldn't becir

"Sarah,

is

that

1

ran after Sarah and caught her

your name?"

"I'm the school teacher.

followed

me

cross her face. With

way down

1

think

asked, panic

1

I

have a coat

my

body.

for you."

Sarah

filling

to the classroom without saying a word. She

on the coat, and

tried

it.

double glass doors leading outside.

it

for the first time

came a

inside so that

"Thank you," she

saw

1

a beautiful smile

softness that had been tucked

no one could see her

vulnerability.

said.

"You're very welcome, and by the way, you look beautiful,"

I

replied while

1

first

time

in

down the collar The warm and feminine. For the

reached out to turn

coat was white and furry, very

a long time Sarah caught a

little

good

feeling

floating in the air

From then 20S

on,

it

seemed

that every

morning Sarah would

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

me on

greet ing

down

&€

warm smile. When was feelwhy came to work in this stressful my answer would be staring at me on Sarah's

the streets with a

or questioning

environment,

I

1

People need people regardless of their circumstances.

face.

loved Sarah and understood her style

—

I

had learned that

1

the attitude considered necessary to survive on the streets

was "you had better get them before they get you." It was a cold day in December when found out in the medical clinic at work that was pregnant with McKenzie. I

1

walked out

1

of the shelter with tears

and a wide smile on

running

down my cheeks

my face.

"Stacey," Sarah yelled from across the street, "are

you

all

right?"

"Sarah, I'm going to have a baby,"

came

my tummy,

over, felt

"Does

this

"I

shouted back. Sarah

1

at

me with

a frown.

mean you're gonna quit?"

"Oh, Sarah,"

ment,

and looked

1

unable to think clearly from the excite-

said,

don't think

was words came back to me and struck What would do? My job, the children 1

could leave this place." Later, as

I

driving home, Sarah's

panic in

my

heart.

who counted on me

1

who

every day, the kids

repeated at the

school, continuing in the cycle of homelessness

—

I

needed to

my baby? They were questions that me until the day bundled up my new

be there. But what about

would go on troubling little girl and trundled her

1

off to

As the weeks progressed, seous with

my

1

school with me.

became more and more nau-

pregnancy. Quitting didn't seem like such a

bad idea anymore. On one particularly bad day Sarah on the sidewalk. Sarah looked distressed and

I

passed

in pain.

"What's up, Sarah? Are you OK?"

knew she wasn't OK, so knelt down beside was pulled up, revealing a cluster of open sores. She was trying to apply some medication to them. "My arthritis is so bad today that it hurts to bend," Sarah moaned. knew she needed help with this, but didn't want "I'm OK."

her.

Her pant

1

I

1

leg

1

209

^Nobody

and

to help,

Nobody

Don't Love

wasn't sure

I

if

I

could do

it

anyway without

throwing up. Being pregnant and nauseated was not good for taking care of open sores. held my breath, said a prayer, and proceeded to help her with the ointment. forced myself to control my queasy stomach until she was out of 1

1

sight

—then

1

vomited.

watched the baby grow. My and became more and more tired. Sarah would ask me daily how many more days until the final countdown. On August 12, was frantically preparing materials for my substitute late into the night. The baby was to be induced the next day. Sarah saw the light on and Together, Sarah and

tummy grew

larger

and

1

larger,

1

I

peeked into the

classroom.

stifling

"What are you doing

much

to do. I'm a

table

where

"I'll

little

moment

shared a quiet

here, Stacey?"

my baby tomorrow and

have

"I'm going to

scared,"

while

1

1

my work lay spread

beautiful

baby

girl

I'll

let

out. finally.

you know how things work

was born

1

watched her from across the

pray for you," Sarah determined

"Thanks, Sarah,

there's so

confessed. Sarah and

to us the next day.

out."

Our

By October

1

was expected back to work, and that was when decided that my baby girl would be with me. The people on the streets had been good to me, and knew they would love this I

I

beautiful child.

Sarah was the

McKenzie

in

first

her arms

to greet us,

like

given birth to five children

had been taken from

sensed that Sarah,

it

her.

in

was a

pro. Sarah

her younger years but

in

little

had

all five

wanted so badly to talk, but stood and watched

1

1

wasn't the time. So

wrapped

and she cradled

a pro. She

1

the white coat from last winter,

now

a

dingy gray. Sarah, the holy terror of the streets around the shelter.

Sarah

who stood now

walk, cooing over this

baby

Sometimes we need to

let

210

amidst the

men on

the side-

young girl. down our guard, throw out the at

her neck

like a

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

|€

would

and cuddle up to people. Like Zach said, "If everyone just take one person and love them, imagine how

much

better our world

rules,

It is

would

be."

too easy to dismiss homelessness and the homeless

as a result of alcohol or drug abuse.

Many

of the parents of

have written about have problems with substance abuse, but 1 have just as many children whose par-

the children

I

who

ents don't. Of those

do,

don't

I

know how many had

a

serious problem before they ended up on the streets and

how many have turned

to alcohol

and drugs

in trying to

deal with their troubles. Today, lack of education plays an

increasing role in homelessness, as does the availability of affordable housing. Trying to find someplace for a family to

on a five-dollar-an-hour job in a city with an apartment of 2% can be nearly impossible. Domestic vio-

live

vacancy rate lence, too,

driving

is

women

to the streets in increasing

numbers, often with their children. pulled up to the shelter just before nine o'clock one cold morning and noticed one of my students and her mother 1

waiting patiently for

my arrival.

"I'm glad you're here," Mrs. Allen, the mother,

ing worried.

"I

crazy people.

hour and

I

1

can't leave

Amanda

have an appointment

need to

go."

Sciid,

here alone with at Welfare

all

Square

look-

these in

an

With a practiced smile, she turned to

coax her toddlers into keeping up with the

stroller.

"We have a long walk, boys, so keep up with me," Mrs. Allen said. Three pairs of big, blue, tired eyes looked up at her.

"I'm cold," four-year-old Isaiah said. That

was enough

for

would only take minutes to drive them. Fishing out my keys for Mrs. Allen, pointed to the blue Bronco in the park-

me.

It

ing

lot.

I

"Go get

in,

I'll

be right back,"

classroom long enough to put

I

said.

my students

1

stopped by the in

the care of

my 211

^"Nobody

Nobody

Don't Love

back to the

teaching assistant and

r2ui

noticed that the two

little

As

car.

I

climbed

in

I

boys were not wearing socks

inside of their boots.

"Why don't you have socks

on, Isaiah?"

I

asked.

"We didn't pack any," he said sadly. "We left in the night so Dad wouldn't hurt us no more." We were quiet for the rest of the trip. am sure Mrs. Allen was embarrassed, and just I

I

couldn't find anything to say. 1

had heard Mrs.

Allen's stories of the beatings

she took

from her husband, stories that left my stomach sick. Knowing that simply hearing of the brutality made me feel like

vomiting,

can't imagine the price

1

she paid

for

so

many

years. She finally found the courage to pack her old, beat-up

car with a few of the kids' things, take off one night, and

never look back. After crossing several state lines into

safety,

the car died, leaving them no transportation once they got to Salt

Lake

children. is

Now

City.

No

car,

determined

in

mother to her

Mrs. Allen

is

a single mother with five

no money, no friends or family her quest for a better

life,

Though many

I

was

is

she

a good

children.

of

them need

help, the adults

hardly helpless victims with nothing to

noon,

here. But

and she

my room

in

trying to

draw a

offer.

meet are

1

Late one after-

castle to use in pre-

my students the next morning. Zero help my already frustrated efforts. let howl and flipped my pencil across the

senting a writing idea to artistic talent didn't

out an exasperated

1

room, which brought the night janitor on the run. "You OK?" he said with a look of horror on his "Sorry,"

1

said sheepishly.

tomorrow, but bucket

in

1

just can't draw."

is

The

man by

janitor

left

came back

face.

for a lesson his in

mop and

a few min-

the elbow.

Steve," the janitor said. "He's an artist.

draw whatever you need." 212

need a castle

the middle of the floor and

utes towing an old

"This

"1

He can

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

Hesitantly, Steve took the chair next to mine.

ered his brow into a perplexed knot as he studied

work. Then he looked up

that,"

I

me.

at

and turned

"This

is

ear,

picked up a pencil from the

my posterboard over.

a castle," he informed me. In quick, measured

he began to sketch. While

strokes,

1

watched over

his shoul-

a drawbridge, and towers appeared on the paper

der, walls,

as though Steve were only uncovering

what had already been

grew labored while he worked, as though

there. His breathing

effort. He finished with a fair maiden window atop the castle's highest tower.

were a taxing

this

know

warned him.

Steve grinned from ear to table,

He puck-

my handi-

a castle, and don't you dare say you didn't

"It's

|€

ing out a

peer-

"That's you," he panted as he straightened up, "trapped inside with

We

all

those kids, and you

Ccin't

get out."

at Steve. He must have been my grandfather's age, almost bald, short, and husky. "How did you learn to draw castles like that?" asked.

both laughed, and

1

took a closer look

1

"It's

a

wishing castle to

I

gift,"

he

had a

said, smiling.

castle of

my

"It

doesn't hurt that I've been

own.

a shack would be a

Hell,

me right now."

As Steve

left,

I

looked

at the castle

how he needed to have an outlet for his

and thought about and how needed

art

1

was teaching all seven grades with the assistance of just one teaching aide. wondered if Steve and could strike some sort of a deal that would help us both. Maybe could pay him to make some props for lessons. The next day when my boss dropped by to see how things were going. showed Steve's castle to him and told him how wished could use him to do more projects for the class. Luck must have been on Steve's side, too, because at that moment he walked through the door just beaming to show off some things he had been up the night help.

1

1

1

1

1

1

I

213

^Nobody

Don't Love

before creating for

Nobody

me

my

to use in teaching

There

classes.

were cartoon characters that taught measurements,

parts-of-

speech posters that rhymed, animal pictures to

up

ing ideas. in his

stir

writ-

My favorite was a chimpanzee with a stalk of wheat

mouth with the words

"1

ten across the bottom. Steve

and thought he was 1

Love You Because was breathing heavily

writ-

again,

about showing his work.

just excited

"Calm down," joked. "The drawings are

great."

1

"That's just

"

my emphysema,"

he wheezed. "You really

them?"

like

"Yup,"

turned to "C2m't

I

said.

"I

want to use them

I

hire

him to help me?"

1

After Steve

man who saw

My

pleaded.

head and smiled. This was a man

his

all."

left,

1

my boss to beg. 1

boss nodded

always had admired, a

a need and acted.

him up," he sciid. Steve came on as my artist, secretary, organizational expert, and general sounding board. For the next four "Let's set

months, including the time that Tucker spent in tip-top

of "a place for everything

and everything

his chsdlenge, with

things stay

we

my own

at the school,

shape. He was a master

Steve kept the classroom

preferred

in its place."

filing

system

where they landed. Together, with

1

was

of letting

his visual aids,

The kids loved count on and love

taught everything from music to grammar.

learning with his creations, and

him

like

I

grew to

a second grandfather.

Steve was a wanderer, as

some

homeless have He certainly wasn't lazy still pull out a lesson every now and again neatly labeled and realistically illustrated by Steve. He was dying of emphysema, but it didn't stop him from moving on or sharing with us before he left. knew he would go someday, just as all my students did, but didn't know how much it would affect me. can still look at his castle or one of his lessons, always been.

—

1

didn't

know

of the

his reasons.

1

1

1

1

and 214

it

brings back a flood of

warm memories.

It

brings back

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

who was

a person

full

of talents

my needs at a time when Finally,

and

someone who met them by myself.

gifts,

couldn't meet

have to give you one more look

1

Sarah. Each time store,

1

walk past the pudding

1

my

at

aisle in the

have to smile to myself, remembering one

I

friend

grocery

of the last

encounters we had before the school year ended.

made

one

a five-dollar bet with

%€

my

of

I

had

students that he

row on his spelling tests. was making a mad rush to my car

couldn't get five perfect scores in a

Obviously,

I

lost

because

1

through the pouring rain to retrieve a five-dollar the

tucked

bill

my

in

pocket,

1

building, barely able to spot the green

pounding

rain.

From the corner

large, furry figure

bill.

With

raced back to the red-brick

of

my eye,

door through the caught sight of a

I

crouched against the building and making

sobbing noises. "Sarah, gate.

is

that you?"

Sarah looked

at

I

hollered, as

me with

I

and I'm hungry," she

"I'm cold,

darted over to investi-

the yearning eyes of a child.

mince words, as she sloshed over and

cried, never fell

into

me

in

one to a soak-

ing bear hug.

"Come

in,

and

we'll find

you something

to eat,"

I

coaxed,

completely drenched by now. All

door.

1

eyes stared as could make

1

escorted Sarah through the back

out the whispers being passed

children, "That's Sarah, she's the

Sarah

in

one who

the rocking chair, slipped

and began

reciting

our

list

"We have applesauce, dren were smiling on. Sarah

now

off

among

yells a lot."

1

the sat

her soggy, gray coat,

of snacks.

crackers, raisins, juice."

as they understood

was wiping her eyes and

The

chil-

what was going

face as she

warmed up

to

the security of the classroom. "1

want chocolate pudding," she belted out. I hadn't even handed her one of it in the cupboard, but she had.

spotted the

little

1

cups, then went to find her a spoon. 215

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

Matthew whispered as

"Teacher, look,"

walked past.

I

Sarah had already dug into the pudding with her index

was gone

It

1

finger.

an instant, and she was asking for more before

in

ever found her something to eat with.

The kids and brainstormed together on where we might some sweats large enough for Sarah, and after a couple in-house phone calls we came up with some dry clothes. I

find of

made

Meanwhile, Sarah

had placed

in

her

herself comfortable in our big rock-

baby

ing chair with the

doll that Marissa, a kindergartner,

lap.

Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon tipping back and forth in that chair. Every

cmd smile as tent to I

and rock her

sit

had ever seen

afternoon,

1

once

a while

in

moved among the

I

her.

doll.

When

packed a bag

was

rain

way through

who had day

still

make eye contact seemed con-

She was as quiet and content as the last of the children

coming down

there, but

we made our

sheets as

didn't know room or why she hadn't spent the ask. was just grateful she had someI

a

in

didn't

1

1

place to go. Sarah stayed quiet in the car, telling

turn here or there as

When we

up

pulled

for din-

my car.

in

the streets to find her hotel room.

put her up

that

left

have

of snacks for Sarah to

ner and loaded her and the food into

The

I'd

children. Sarcih

1

make out

struggled to

to the curb,

1

me

only to

street signs.

jumped out and ran around

to the other side of the car to help her out. Sarah didn't move.

"Come

on, Sarah,

cold rain trickled

let's

go,"

down my

said, forcing a smile while the

1

neck. "I've got to get

home

to

my

baby." Reluctantly, Sarah heaved herself out of the car, splashing right through the flooding gutter, and followed

As

to her door.

1

worked the key

into the lock,

1

me

noticed that

Sarah was leaning heavily against the door jamb.

"We

better put

have been the argue, and

I

you

first

right to bed."

time since

1

joked. For what might

had known

her,

she didn't

worried that she might be seriously

gray hair hung on her face 216

I

in

plastered strings.

Her

111.

When

I

got

The Adult Population: The Unhealed Child

the door open, the

room wasn't much

bigger than the single

bed along one wall. There was a small bureau the bed and one chair.

"Come

on,"

1

K

at the

head

of

urged, motioning Sarah over to the bed.

bed where she wouldn't have to get up to eat them and tugged her shoes off her 1

set the snacks close to her

swollen feet while Sarah whined

softly.

"Now lay down and rest," said, patting Sarah gently. The room was dark with afternoon shadows from the gray day, 1

and from outside

I could hear the sound of cars swishing by on the wet pavement. Sarah stopped whimpering and lay back in the bed. The faint red letters on a small clock radio

by her bed read school before rolled over "Is I

1

4:35.

I

had an hour's work

could go

home

to

my own

left

back

at the

children. Sarah

and sighed.

everything OK?"

I

asked, bending

down

to look at her.

could smell the musty scent of Sarah's heavy blcmket, and a

big tear rolled

down her

left

cheek.

"I

love you," Sarah whispered, half asleep and smiling.

"I

love you, too,"

her to

fall

asleep.

1

said,

then sat on the bed to wait for

«^

217

A Simple Answer to a Complex Problem: Serve

One morning at the School With No Name, the kids and were discussing the importance of friendship. We were comparing the difference between put-ups and put-downs and the effect they have on us. The children expressed concern that what they hear may impact who they become. "1 1

think you're right,"

1

of

our mouths so

another child's self-esteem? Shouldn't love

we carefully we don't destroy we show people we

told them, "So shouldn't

choose what comes out

them by the things

that

we

say?" Curtis, a charming

but troubled young man, spoke matter-of-factly, as though

he were an expert on the power

of

words.

"You know, teacher, nobody don't love nobody" he

said.

That haunting phrase would not leave my mind. I couldn't figure out where had heard those words before until one night at the dinner table my grandfather started I

telling stories.

He began, "You know, when Stacey was a little girl she was obsessed with making sure that everyone was treated fairly. When things didn't run smoothly she would stand at the bottom of the stairs with her big brown eyes filled with tears

and cry

One

out, "Grandpa,

tragic lesson

I

nobody don't love nobody."

have learned from the children

at the

No Name is that we are destroying each other everywhere. came to know the children in this book because they came through the shelter where work, but School With

1

I

there

is

no shortage

of tragedy, physical

and emotional deva-

and deprivation in middle- and upper-class homes. The most serious deprivation any child any person faces station,

—

—

219

^Nobody

is

Don't Love

not finsmcial.

It

is

Nobody

the deprivation of experience, the depri-

vation of opportunity, and too often self,

through

hope

I

lack of love

you have allowed yourself to live for a few the tattered shoes of some of my students.

that

moments in know that these zone, but

1

1

stories take people

you to

act.

1

tell

On

you these

behalf of

comfort

make others

stories in

feel

an attempt to

of the children

all

passed through the School With No feel

out of their

don't share these stories to

guilty or hopeless.

inspire

the deprivation of

is

it

and positive or stable experience.

who have

Name want you I

to cdso

hopeful that through love and service the world could be

a kinder place.

A

waiting to hear that he or she

is

a

valued part of your community. You might be surprised,

if

child

is

kids find appropriate feelings of belonging and power,

won't have to fear them

in large

need extends beyond childhood.

we

gangs. And, of course, the

We

surrounded by the

live

abused

poor, the lonely, the hungry, the

—the needy. They

are our family and neighbors, they are strangers and friends.

There to

is

a particular satisfaction one gets from reaching out

meet the needs

that teers

comes with

who

of another, a certain

giving. I've

peace and pleasure

heard about

help at the school, and

I

have

it

felt

from the volunit

myself.

The following pages present some great places to start, ways anybody can get in and make a difference. It's up to you how you serve; there are as many different ways as there are needs, time, resources, and talents. Don't be overwhelmed by all that needs to be done. The important thing is to do something.

It

simply takes making an effort to prove Curtis

wrong, to prove that somebody does love somebody.

220

Afterward |€

At When to love

Home

looking for what needs to be done and

and serve, don't

by taking care

of

our

forget those

own

families

around you.

somebody If

we

begin

and neighbors, we help

keep intact those important social networks which keep people functioning even through hard times.

«^ Becoming a

foster parent

—you can get information from

the Division of Family Services in your phone book.

«^ Big Brothers or Big

Sisters

—you can find them

in

a

phone

book.

^

Prepare Christmas or Thanksgiving meals, lies

who

etc. for fami-

are struggling.

—

«s>

Adopt a grandparent ^you can get information from the Department of Human Services in your phone book.

«s>

Be a

foster grandparent.

«^ Take someone to a doctor's appointment. «s>

Join the PTA.

^> Coach a

little

league team or be a team

mom.

Volunteer at your children's school.

«^ Volunteer

at

a neighborhood school as a tutor.

«^ Get to know a neighbor

—make a double batch

of

some-

thing to share or just go over and say hello.

^>

you haven't talked to

Call a relative or friend

—

^>

Visit

Baby-sit for a tired parent.

«s>

Write an overdue

a nursing

home

don't forget

your own

for a while. relatives.

letter.

^^ Get involved with your children's scout troop. '^>

Give

some

special attention to a child or grandchild

who

might be struggling. 221

— ^^^

Nobody Don't Love Nobody

In

Town

For service to your community, the telephone book can be

your most valuable resource

for getting started.

Once you start amazed

asking questions about volunteer work, you might be at

the variety of needs and oportunities surrounding you.

«>

Human

Services. In the blue state government pages of

Human Services you should phone number for a Volunteer Services coordinator. Departments and services under Human Services include: Aging Services, Child Abuse and Neglect Services, Family Services, Handicapped Services, Mental Health, Youth Corrections. These and other departments can use volunteers in both "person-toperson" and technical areas. your telephone book under be able to

^

find a

Companies can adopt

^' Volunteer

at

families or schools.

a homeless shelter or soup kitchen.

«> Donate to or volunteer «> Volunteer

at

a food bank.

at a local children's hospital, general hospital,

or burn center.

e> Contact your

local library to volunteer for literacy pro-

grams or to read «3>

Child abuse prevention programs

Human «»•

to the blind or children.

Services to see what

is

—you might check with

being done

in

your area.

— Human Services

Volunteer at a crisis center or hotline

might be able to give you a lead. «»•

Join a service-oriented club like the Kiwanis. Lions,

Rotary international, or Jaycees.

«' Run

for local office.

«. Volunteer to help with a program for teenage mothers maybe even throw a young mother a baby shower. 222

Afterward |€

Participate in fundraisers benefitting groups or causes

you are interested

in.

Donate clothing to the Salvation Army, a

shelter, or a

thrift store.

Serve through your local church.

In

Your

State, Nation,

Again, once

you begin

ties for service are

lows

is

and the World and opportuni-

looking, the needs

almost endless. The short

only a beginning.

Many

of

list

that

fol-

these agencies act as

clearinghouses to direct people to a number of different types of specific programs. You favorite charity

may

also

want to pick a

and make a regular donation.

Volunteers of America National Office

3939 North Causeway Blvd. Matairie,

LA 70002

1-800-899-0089

Founded in 1896, Volunteers of America is one of the largest and most diversified non-profit human services agencies in the United States. They offer more than 400 programs that extend help to youth, the elderly, families in crisis, abused and neglected children, the homeless, people with ties,

and ex-offenders returning to

disabili-

society. Their goal

is

to

provide opportunities for people to express their deepest faith

by serving others.

223

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

American Red Cross National Headquarters 17th and

D

Streets, N.W.

Washington, D.C. 20006

The American Red Cross has over 2000 States,

local

which provide a wide range

American Red Cross

office

offices in the United

of services. Contact

and ask

your

for the Office of

Volunteer Personnel.

Points of Light Foundation

1-800^79-5400

The Points

of Light

Foundation coordinates numerous volun-

teer efforts across the country. direct

you

to

one

When you

call,

of the local volunteer centers in

or provide you with a

list

of other alternatives

if

they

will

your area

they do not

have a center near you. Habitat for Humanity

1-800-HABlTAT Habitat for Humanity

is

an international organization that

builds and renovates housing for low income people.

The National Resource Center on Homelessness and Mental Illness 262 Delaware Ave. Delmar,

NY

12054

1-800444-7415

A

national organization concerned with mental health, hous-

ing,

and homelessness. A resource center

want to learn more about homelessness.

224

for

people

who

Afterward |€

Youth Service America 1101 15th Street North West Suite 200

Washington, D.C. 20005 Write for a brochure to find out

how you can

get involved in

your own community. Travelers Aid International

512 C Street North East

Washington, D.

C.

20002

202-546-3120

Travelers Aid International (TAI) cies that provides information of travelers,

is

a network of local agen-

and assistance to thousands

homeless people, runaway youth, and others.

TAI agencies provide shelter, transitional housing programs, counseling, and other services. ideas

on what you can do

The Corporation

in

You can write or phone

for

your area.

for National

and Community Service

1-800-942-2677 1-800-833-3772 (hearing impaired)

The Corporation

for National

and Community Service acts as

an umbrella for a number of federal service agencies, includ-

AmeriCorps (the new national service program created by Congress and President Clinton, open to adults 18 yrs. and older who want to commit to eleven months of service), VISTA, the National Civilian Community Corps, Learn and Serve, and the Senior Corps (which includes the Foster Grandparent, Senior Companion, and the Retired and Senior and Volunteer Programs). ing

225

^Nobody

Don't Love

Nobody

Youth Volunteer Corps of America 6310 Lamar Ave. Suite 145

Overland Park, KS 66202-4247 913-432-9822

The Youth Volunteer Corps promotes

civic responsibility

through volunteerism cimong youth, ages

1 1-18. The program draws young people from diverse ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds and actively involves them in community

problem-solving through structured volunteer service.

run both school-year and intensive

summer

YVCs

service pro-

grams. YVCs may be sponsored by diverse local agencies such as YMCA, Boys and Girls Clubs, United Way, or Volunteer Centers. Call or write for information about starting a

226

YVC

in

your community.

*^-

About the Author Stacey Bess began to record the stories of

some

of her stu-

dents at the School With

No Name

to publish a book, but

because the lessons were so pro-

found. Stacey

is

not because she intended

committed to teaching children

firmly

worth and helping them to recognize and use power. The children she has touched,

their

their personal

who were

often

labeled as unteachable in the public schools, are living proof that her

methods work.

Stacey has a bachelor's degree tion from the University of Utah.

been recognized with a number Golden Deeds Award 1992, the

in

of honors, including the

for dedication to

Utah Children Award

elementary educa-

Her outstanding service has

for

homeless youth

in

Outstanding Service to

Children in 1991, and the Creative Community Leadership Award given by the University of Utah in 1993. Stacey and her husband, Greg, have been married for fourteen years and have three children. In conjunction with her work at the School With No Ncime, she continues to be a leading advocate for the educational rights of impoverished children.

up desperate and homeless

in

America, Stacey Bess issues a challenge to the world. It is a challenge to care, a challenge to act, a chal-

lenge to change in order to prove somebody does hue somebody.

that

About the Author Stacey Bess began to record the some of her students at

stories of

the School With No Name not because she intended to publish a

book, but because the lessons were so profound. Stacey is firmly

committed to teaching children their worth

and helping them to recognize and use their personal power. The children

she has touched— often previously labeled as unteachable

irl

schools— are living proof methods work. in

public

that her

Stacey has a bachelor's degree elementary education from the

University of Utah. Her outstanding service has with,a

number

been recognized

of honors, including

the Golden Deeds Award for dedication to homeless youth in 1992,

the Utah Children

Award

for

Outstanding Service to Children

in

and the Creative Community Leadership Award given by the 1991,

University of Utah in 1993.

Stacey and her husband, Greg, have been married for

fourteen years and have three children. In

conjunctipn with

her work at the School With No Name,

^ ^

'A

she continues to be a leading advocate for the educational rights of impoverished children.

Printed in the U.S.A..

©1994 Gold

Leaf Press

Carson

Nevada

City,

Lessons on Love from the School With

No Name

'

When a troubled student at the School No Name remarked, "You know,

With

teacher,

nobody don

love nobody,

't

"

the

haunting phrase would not leave Stacey Bess's mind.

She couldn't

figure out

where she had heard those words before until one night her grandfather

recalled an incident from her

own

childhood: "Stacey was obsessed with cnuanoo

everyone being treated

fairly

from the time she was a

little girl.

When

things

didn 't run smoothly she would stand at the bottom

of the stairs with her big brown eyes full of tears " and cry, 'Grandpa, nobody don love nobody .' 't

Stacey Bess has the School With

.

now spent seven years teaching children at No Name, a classroom in a community home-

less shelter. "Despite a constant state of crisis,

lecirned

.

and loved," Stacey says.

"1

I

have educated,

have taught math, reading,

and self-worth. Through the lives of these children have learned empathy and the need for kids to be loved and lisI

tened

to.

1

have learned the difference one person can make

and what happens when nobody steps up to make a

The

stories of Stacey 2uid these children offer

a look into a world

see and a

way

ies of love

to

we

often don't want to

change

and anger,

it.

They are

of fear

stor-

warmed by

triumph, of loss tinged with hope. They are stories you will never forget.

*OIPLl

AT PRISS

ISBN iaA2723-10-M

difference."