Recently I was sitting in my cramped “coach” seat on a popular airline. Just after every passenger was on board, the flight attendant smiled politely at those of us seated in the last twenty or so rows; then she quickly grabbed the curtain that separated us from First Class and pulled it closed. I felt like I was in that similar scene in the movie Jerry Maguire, and I was Dorothy Boyd.
I thought at that time about the caste system I studied in college and how social distinctions still exist today, especially in schools. As a teacher, I’m concerned about the ways that we unintentionally separate children into groups.
Take the school cafeteria, for instance. Students who receive free lunches or who pay reduced prices and have the dreaded “lunch number” must choose from the main lunch line in most schools. Other lines, with food for purchase like pizza, chicken nuggets, and fries, are only available to students with cash. Ask middle or high school students, and they can tell you which of their classmates receive “free lunch.” All they have to do is look at the lines in the cafeteria. Some students bring a lunchbox packed by a loving parent every day. As for the others, it isn’t uncommon, especially as students get older, for them to skip lunch altogether, so as not to draw attention to the fact that their family income is so low, they qualify for free lunch according to the federal government. I can’t tell you how many kids have told me, “I’m just not hungry today.”
And although lunchtime provides an obvious distinction, there are other, more subtle, hints. Just check out the sports teams. I’ve seen too many students unable to participate because their parents can’t afford the price of a sports physical. These are the same parents who rely on the school bus to bring their kids home. So even if the physical, which is often provided at school, can be paid for (and I’ve offered many times), the student wouldn’t be able to attend after school practices and games. These are the same kids who miss after school events like extra-curricular club meetings and the teen rite of passage – the school dance.
Picture day separates the “haves” from the “have-nots,” too. Students are literally lined up according to which “package” they purchase. Package A, with all the extra copies of photos for grandparents and friends may lead the line while the “non-buyers” – those just posing for the yearbook photo – bring up the rear. And look around at the end of the year and watch which students have a yearbook and which ones are looking over others’ shoulders for a peek.
Field trips divide students as well. Even though schools usually provide for those who can’t pay to attend, those same students are the ones who don’t clamor to get into the gift shop at the zoo or the aquarium, and they’re the ones without extra money for treats at the snack stand.
I once watched a group of students running excitedly from display to display at our school’s Book Fair (which, by the way, is more than merely a “book” fair. There are shelves full of glittery trinkets and toys that kids spend most of their money on.) One student, standing off to the side, looked at me, and proclaimed, “I HATE the Book Fair.” When I asked why, he told me that as a seventh grader, he was now attending his eighth Book Fair with his class, but he never once had any money to spend. He said, “It isn’t fair.”
And it’s not. But what can school personnel do to ease the unfairness? We can’t get parents a better job or subsidize the household income for what potentially could be 90% of the families in some schools. My first instinct has always been to help. I gave that student at the Book Fair ten dollars that day. I’ve purchased entire outfits and sneakers for others. I always bring extra bag lunches on field trips because there will be students with no lunch and no money to buy anything. But I have seen this practice cause problems, too. Once another teacher and I outfitted a student for the prom – dress, shoes, and jewelry – only to receive a hostile phone call: “You think I can’t afford to send my daughter to the prom?!” Well, actually, that’s what she told us. Another problem I’ve encountered is the sense of entitlement that some of our less fortunate students sometimes exhibit. Several have told me, “My family can’t afford things, but you’re a teacher. You’re rich. You get things for your own kids. You can just get things for me.” I have a student who still writes me and asks for money now, six years after I taught him, because I helped him repeatedly the year he sat in my seventh grade class.
Oh, if only I could save them all. I can’t. But here’s what I can do. I can be sure that any student in need has access to every resource available – the school social worker, the counselor, the nurse – all of these “student support” staff members are available to help and are knowledgeable about ways to support a family that are different from what I’m trained to deal with at the classroom level. It’s my job to be in tune to hardships my students face so that I can refer those who need assistance to the people who can help them.
I can reach out to the community for donations of school supplies and books for kids. Most companies are willing to help but don’t know exactly what teachers need. A few phone calls or emails, and I can set up my classroom with the supplies needed for school.
I can also be as discreet as possible when delivering information about field trips, the purchase of “spirit gear” (school shirts, etc), and any other incidentals that may arise. I usually make a general statement saying that if any student is unable to pay for field trip fees, that student needs to come to talk to me later. I throw in, “Some of your parents may not get paid before this is due, but we’ll figure it out. So just let me know” to make it sound as if the parents may eventually have the money, even though I know some may not. I’ve seen situations where the parent has to sign a form saying that the student will need financial assistance to attend, and you wouldn’t believe the teachers who wave that form around – “Who needs this?” – with no concern for the feelings of the child. Discretion is the way to go.
Last, and most important, the best thing teachers can do is to show compassion to other human beings at all times. Acting out frustrations with students who haven’t paid for their combination locks (because of reasons that are not in their control) is no way to deal with our families that struggle financially. Adopting a caring spirit and being non-judgmental will go a long way when it comes to developing a relationship with our students. And that relationship will enable us to reach our most important goal: that the students who come from modest means learn just as quickly and just as much as our more privileged ones.
Unfortunately, the world we live in is divisive. But we can smooth the lines in our schools and classrooms with a little bit of thought and whole lot of care.