I've Learned the Only Answer Is to Take Action

It would be easy as an ACE teacher to go from the lush Notre Dame campus with its golden dome, its complicated sprinkler system, and its plentiful computer labs and complain about the lacking resources in the school communities in which we work. It would be easy to criticize. It would be easy to cast jealous eyes toward those first-year teachers blessed with more resources.

But complaining is the easy way out and these actions would truly be the most harmful course of action. The most destructive.

Because when they are faced with hardships and absences, the families we serve who are living in poverty do not get to complain until things get better. No. What I have learned during my ACE experience is that sometimes the only answers to poverty, to needs, and to negative situations are action and creativity.

The students I teach in Tucson come from family backgrounds that to me two years ago would have been unimaginable. The school itself has serious needs. But we do not sit around during the day and make observations about what is missing. Complaints do not teach. Complaints do not create. Instead, we work with what we have, we work to help each other, and we don't make a show of it. For the kids, this is how life has always been, and even the fluctuations of an underresourced school are comfort compared to what might lie at home.

The first week of school, a new student, Nick, appeared with no supplies. He had no backpack, no pencils, no paper, no folders, nothing. When I asked Nick if he would be able to bring in the supplies by the end of the week, he shrugged and nodded, obviously nervous in his new school. He ended up missing Thursday and Friday that first week and I truly worried he would not come back.

Friday after school a student named Gabby, one of the most popular girls in class, appeared at the door of my classroom, her head hung low, her father in tow. Having known Gabby for a year, I was nervous about where the conversation would go.

She smiled a little, hung her head lower, and slid behind her dad. He took something from her hands.

"Gabby put this together for the new student. She was worried he would not be able to get the supplies." He handed me a backpack, fully stocked.

This is not a situation where one well-off student saw the struggles of one who was less fortunate. Gabby's father was between jobs and her mom works part time. When I asked Gabby later about the backpack, she said that some of the contents were her old supplies, a lunchbox and pencil bag, while others she had used her own money saved from her summer birthday to purchase. Then, she asked me not to tell Nick that she had purchased the supplies.

Each day with my middle schoolers is an absolute rollercoaster. It is easy to get bogged down. And yes, it is easy to whine and complain. On those days, though, I think of Gabby. She could have complained about what her family did not have, but instead she gave what they did have. That, to me, is what ACE is about. That is what gives me hope for these kids.