Entry #5

Good morning!

Welcome back! Today, I want to dive right in. I've been reading a lot of interesting and relevant articles, and I want to share some of what I've found with you.

First, let me just say that if you've felt like I've been focusing a lot on the negative, you're right, I kind of have been. I've tried to make a point of emphasizing the reality of the subject we're dealing with, because I don't think it's right to start talking about strategies for mitigating poverty's impact without first trying to understand it. I think that, now that we've unpacked much of what hinders student success, we can take a deep breath, and figure out where we go from here. It's daunting, really. Poverty is, as we've said, a force that will never truly go away. Inequality is, unfortunately, something of a social and economic staple. Our society, no matter what lens you view it through, is an increasingly complicated and challenging place to be, and that makes the subject of education even more difficult to assess. It's hard to think of ways to improve our schools when there are so many other crazy, violent, unfair, and emotional problems with our weird planet.

You can see why I've been skirting the issue.

Alanna and I made a point in our last entry of saying that there are things we can do to benefit the education of our students close to home. While we can't sucker-punch poverty and call it a day, we can make change over time and help the people around us. So, for the sake of yours and my sanity, each entry from here on out will focus on one strategy or approach at a time. That way, we can really do justice to the different ways we can slow poverty's impact on student success, and I can tell you about what I've read about them in glowing detail.

In order to do that though, I'll have to tell you another childhood story.

In middle school, I started getting pains in my stomach if I ate too early in the morning. It was weird (and still happens, once in a while), but it meant that when I woke up in the morning, I didn't want breakfast. I started making a habit of eating later in the morning - on the bus or right before class - so that I still ate, but didn't have to subject myself to feeling gross. What I discovered, sometime in 7th grade, is that my later breakfast time aligned perfectly with the school's breakfast program. It was the best - you could walk down to the Family Studies room, and the teacher would have a table prepared with juice, bagels, fresh fruit, and other morning snacks. Sydney (my sister) and I, along with a few close friends, made a ritual of meeting when we got off the bus and making a bee-line for the breakfast program. Most of us only went down for a glass of juice, maybe a granola bar and a place to sit, but really, that was all the incentive we needed. A quiet place to hang out AND free juice? We loved it, and we would all go down every morning.

I don't remember exactly how Mom and Dad found out we were going, but when they did, they had a some concerns. They explained that, though we all knew we had food at home, the program was meant for people who didn't, and our going to the program every morning might give our teachers the wrong idea. They also said that, as nice as it was that we found a place to hang out with our friends, that taking 10 of our friends down there to eat was probably putting a dent in the supply that the school bought for kids who needed it. We, who only went down to be social, were taking away from kids who went down to actually have a meal, and that wasn't really fair. Of course, Sydney and I didn't think about any of that when we went. In our minds, the school said they had a free breakfast program, and we liked free food, so we were there in a heartbeat. We had no sense of our surroundings, I guess.

Images retrieved from http://www.kelloggs.ca/en_CA/breakfasts-for-better-days.html
Check out #feedingforbetterdays for more information

As silly as it probably is that we didn't see anything weird about going to the program, that's kind of why I like the story. Some of my friends at the time definitely came from well-off families, without question, but they came down to the program with us every morning and didn't think twice. For us, it was a social thing - we got to hang out with friends who weren't in all our classes, we met some new ones, and it was just really casual. That program had such an inviting, inclusive dynamic - the teachers who volunteered with it probably saw a lot of diversity in there for that reason alone. It was advertised as a place that anyone could go, so that's what happened.

School tends to lack equitable spaces like that - anyone who has been to a public school knows this. The cafeteria is divided according to cliques, which are largely oriented around the idea of wealth or class. There are exceptions to this, of course, but for the most part, each friend group shares roughly the same socioeconomic standing. In classes themselves - Phys. Ed for example - we see some students not bringing hygiene products or clothes to exercise in. Some students lack basic school supplies, whether that means pencils, paper, a backpack - they don't have the things that they need. According to a study that focused specifically on breakfast programs in Atlantic Canada, "Although providers at all nine [schools] believed that they fed poverty-stricken children who did not get food at home, they also recognized of those children who did attend, an estimated 75% were not poor, and attended for such reasons as convenience and socializing" (McIntyre, 1999, p.197). It's nice to know that my personal experience with the program wasn't an outlier, and that these programs are creating equitable spaces right here in Nova Scotia. Socializing in an environment that gives everyone the same opportunity, the same resources, creates a different social dynamic altogether. It's not about who has a pencil, it's about who prefers peanut butter more than jam, which is a way more fun conversation to have.

While our program was an inclusive, friendly, comforting space, sometimes they go the other way. Some breakfast programs are explicitly labelled as being exclusively for students experiencing poverty, and you need to sign up for a daily ticket program to be a part of it. But, the last thing anyone wants in school is another thing that's segregated and cliquey, especially if being a part of the clique means everyone knows you need financial help. McIntyre's (1999) research study found that this is the success of the programs they studied in Atlantic Canada: "We found two ideologies that were shared by all feeding programs: the ideology of the family, and the ideology of equality... It is best for a family to eat together and talk... Programs tried, therefore, to create a second home for children..."(p.197-198). There are already enough worries about being accepted and getting through those formative years without being a social pariah - a breakfast program that's open to everyone might mean that there's one thing less for a student to worry about. If the program is going to work, it has to be one that reduces stigma rather than perpetuate it.

Images retrieved from http://www.kelloggs.ca/en_CA/breakfasts-for-better-days.html
Check out #feedingforbetterdays for more information

While it's a beacon of hope that these programs make such an impact, we can't minimize the concern of parents. Research indicates that, while kids don't really stigmatize the programs (likely because schools work to make them as inclusive as possible), it's the parents who are both the stigmatizers and stagmatized. Teachers and parents are so concerned about bullying happening in schools, when in this case, they're bullying each other: "Parental stigmatization included harsh, stereotypical assessments: "...they drink, they play bingo, they smoke it up or they booze it away... (Program Operator). The parents we interviewed were completely comfortable with their children's participation in the programs, however, they and program operators were often quick to judge non-participating parents... They were blamed for both sending their children and not sending their children to programs; and for needing such programs and for becoming dependent on them. They were also criticized for using the meagre money they received poorly, for not participating as volunteers, and for not caring at all for their children." (McIntyre, 1999, p.198). I think it's sad that people lose their sense of kindness and empathy as they get older. Something seems to happen, some wire gets crossed, and suddenly people see difference where they used to see similarity. These programs, again, inspire a sense of community and family, but then, there are people who look at them and can't think of a single kind thing to say.

I think Sydney and I are really lucky. When Mom and Dad found out we were going to the program with our friends, they could have forbade us from going again and fed us a bunch of hateful and ignorant ideas about families who rely on those programs. But it was never like that. They were on the opposite end of the spectrum, only being worried that maybe a teacher or kid would say something hateful to us, just for hanging out with our friends and drinking juice. It all brings us back to the idea of deficit thinking. The sad thing is, when people try to justify ignorance or blind hatred with stereotypes, they usually do it with an heir of intelligence about them - like, they think that what they're saying makes perfect sense. In this case, I hope that parents, teachers, and students can all take a step back and think about what really matters: you can't learn if you're hungry. All other variables aside, that's the plain truth.

I think, after all of that, I'm ready to eat a bagel with some cream cheese on it. Have a lovely day - I look forward to chatting with you next week!

BYE!

Savannah MacDonald

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McIntyre, L., Travers, K., & Dayle, J. B. (1999). Children's feeding programs in atlantic canada: Reducing or reproducing inequities? Canadian Journal of Public Health, 90(3), 196-200.