Call It a Story: Defining Our Profession
Guest post by Kelly Flynn.
Halfway through her senior year, Kimberly suddenly stopped coming to school. Messages left for her parents went unreturned. When she finally showed up after a three-week absence, I pulled her aside and inquired about her well-being. She'd been kicked out of her parent's house, she said, but she did not want to say why. For three weeks she'd been living in her boyfriend's van. She couldn't actually stay at his house because his parents did not approve. When they went to work she was able to slip in and take a shower, and sometimes sneak something to eat. She had no money and nowhere to go. Her days, she said, were spent inside the van, sleeping, doing crossword puzzles, and listening to the radio. Kimberly was eighteen-years-old and five months from graduation. I bought her two bags of non-perishable groceries, tried repeatedly to talk to her parents, and contacted her counselor. One day she disappeared and never came back. She did not graduate.
That's a true story about a real student in our public school system. And it's important because schools are full of students like Kimberly: bright kids in unfathomable circumstances that have a profound - and immeasurable - effect on their learning.
Kimberly became a dropout statistic. Her problems were complicated, and personal, and perhaps not really within the jurisdiction of the school system at all.
Halfway through her senior year, Kimberly suddenly stopped coming to school. Messages left for her parents went unreturned. When she finally showed up after a three-week absence, I pulled her aside and inquired about her well-being. She'd been kicked out of her parent's house, she said, but she did not want to say why. For three weeks she'd been living in her boyfriend's van. She couldn't actually stay at his house because his parents did not approve. When they went to work she was able to slip in and take a shower, and sometimes sneak something to eat. She had no money and nowhere to go. Her days, she said, were spent inside the van, sleeping, doing crossword puzzles, and listening to the radio. Kimberly was eighteen-years-old and five months from graduation. I bought her two bags of non-perishable groceries, tried repeatedly to talk to her parents, and contacted her counselor. One day she disappeared and never came back. She did not graduate.
That's a true story about a real student in our public school system. And it's important because schools are full of students like Kimberly: bright kids in unfathomable circumstances that have a profound - and immeasurable - effect on their learning.
Kimberly became a dropout statistic. Her problems were complicated, and personal, and perhaps not really within the jurisdiction of the school system at all.