Editor’s note: Ramesh is a student at Myers Park High School. This article was adapted from a March edition of the school’s newspaper, The Hoofprint.
It’s not necessarily about the man on the street or the ne’er-do-well who can’t or won’t pick himself up to a productive life. Transience or homelessness is often about ordinary people, about families.
It’s a real and growing social issue, with more than 5,000 people in Mecklenburg County categorized as homeless. Within Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools, more than 1,800 students are transient. The issue touches even Myers Park High School, which is in one of the most affluent areas of the city.
Approximately 30 transient students attend Myers Park High, although efforts to preserve confidentiality of transient students often mean that people do not recognize the extent of homelessness within CMS and at Myers Park.
With a quality education afforded them through the McKinney-Vento Education for Homeless Children and Youth Program, these homeless students attend public schools and are expected to meet the same standards as any other student. Yet, with hardship and uncertainty looming daily, many transient students fail to do well at school.
Problem in portrait
Myers Park senior Lashawn, 18, says she has lived a roller-coaster life. She enjoys typical teenage pursuits movies, television and reading, as well as watching and playing sports but has experienced more than most local teenagers.
The New York native moved to Charlotte at age 9 with her mom and siblings so her ailing uncle, who moved south with them, could see relatives in the area before he passed away. The year after the move, Lashawn’s uncle died, followed two years later by her aunt.
Lashawn and her siblings were removed from their mother’s custody in 2001 after someone alleged that their mother hit Lashawn and her siblings with a wire brush. They were separated from their mother for more than a year and placed in group and foster homes. Later reunited, Lashawn and her family were evicted from their home in August 2006. According to Lashawn, not knowing where they would live was the scariest thing she has faced. The family moved in with an aunt and then with Lashawn’s grandmother before moving to a shelter at the start of the school year.
There was little privacy for her mother, stepfather, and eight younger siblings, she said about life in the shelter. “There were so many people there.” The family woke at 5 a.m., left for school and work by 6, and reconvened at the shelter at 6 p.m. for what Lashawn described as “atrocious” dinners. “She (my mother) would give us simple snacks when we got home from school, (as we) didn’t want to eat the food at the shelter,” said Lashawn. But for a family on food stamps, meal options were limited.
Lashawn and her siblings couldn’t spend much time with her stepfather during that time. “He wasn’t allowed into the shelter, (and) we wouldn’t see him until after school … (and then only) for a little bit.” He slept in his car.
Lashawn and her family left the shelter as soon as they could, in October, citing poor sanitation, lack of privacy and an aversion to the food.
Turning point
Early in the school year, Lashawn attended Midwood Alternative School before returning to Myers Park High, which she prefers. “My friends keep me occupied. I don’t have to worry about all that stuff at home.” Yet Lashawn sometimes feels envious of her peers. “You see people with their cell phones and MP3s and they’re nicely dressed. The students here get stuff from their parents. They don’t have jobs, and they don’t work for their stuff. Put them out into the world they’ll see how hard life really is.”
Lashawn credits her academic success to her mother and stepfather’s high expectations but admits that she occasionally gets preoccupied with her family’s situation and loses concentration. “The teachers help me get through this; teachers (and administrators) made the difference.” After graduation, she plans to attend N.C. A&T State University to study computer programming.
Lashawn’s family now rents an apartment, though she worries about bills, rent increases, insurance payments and whether her parents’ jobs will remain secure her stepfather stocks grocery stores and her mother works in a bagel manufacturing plant. Although her youngest siblings are doing reasonably well, some of the children in her family have met with less success. One of her sisters dropped out and is now pregnant. Her oldest brother, 16, also attended Myers Park High but was expelled. He was redirected to Derita Alternative School but never went.
Still, she sees improvement in their situation; she says her stepfather’s employer knows their plight and is repairing a house he owns for them to live in.
She cautions her schoolmates: “Life is hard. Don’t take things for granted because you might lose them.”
The machine at work
Behind-the-scenes efforts assist Myers Park students in need. Teachers often discreetly identify students they believe need support and then supply those names to school social worker Lynn Bryan, who determines how best to help.
“We identify through counselors, teachers and staff (those) students who … need assistance at holiday time,” said a Myers Park administrator who asked to remain anonymous. The program typically helps more than 30 families. Program coordinators ask students what they want for the holidays shoes, socks and undergarments usually top the list. “(The students) never seem to request more than the necessities,” the administrator noted.
The program also provides the students with book bags, pencils, notebooks, calculators and other school supplies. “Every single day,” concluded the administrator, “we are trying to do the best we can for all students, in particular, students who need food, clothing and shelter.”
Yet, in the end, the greatest way to help those students, short of experiencing their hardships firsthand, is to understand their lives, to respect them as people who may be locked in daily struggle but who have the potential to rise above circumstance and become successful.