Chapter 9

OBSER­VA­TIONS ON POVERTY

Tom R. Davis has spent his entire career in public edu­ca­tion: first as classroom teacher, later in admin­is­tra­tion, and cur­rently as a con­sultant and exec­utive coach to edu­ca­tional leaders.

CHIL­DREN LIVING IN poverty face greater chal­lenges than their socioeco­nom­ic­ally advant­aged peers in their ability to learn in school. It affects their atten­tion span in class, their ability to com­plete home­work, their inter­ac­tions with fellow stu­dents and staff—in gen­eral, their ability to absorb the material presented to them in class. In turn, chartered schools and tra­di­tional public schools alike are chal­lenged to respond to this situ­ation so all stu­dents have equal oppor­tunity to benefit from their aca­demic envir­on­ment.

Like many Amer­icans today, I grew up in an urban set­ting. Most of my nine brothers and sis­ters were out of the nest and involved in the work­force, col­lege, or the mil­itary by age eighteen. This could not be fur­ther from the scarcity my past rel­at­ives faced; even though their roots were deep in the Mid­west wheat bowl, they made the tough decision to migrate to the West Coast for work. Unsure of how long they would have resources or even mobility, my entire family relo­cated for fear of what many Amer­icans still struggle with: poverty.

Unfor­tu­nately, for count­less Amer­icans today, simply relo­cating is not enough to keep them out of the mire of poverty. For most of us, our per­spective on poverty is often largely influ­enced by our exper­i­ence with it. If you have ever lived under impov­er­ished cir­cum­stances, such as home­less­ness, your under­standing of poverty is likely to be dif­ferent from the under­standing an observer of poverty might have.

In my case, I have only been an observer. I cannot recall ever missing a meal, not having a bed to sleep in, or not having clothes to wear. I cannot pre­tend to under­stand a life of poverty. Cer­tainly, growing up, I knew people struggled with it. I knew my family gave to char­ities, as did I. But the signs of poverty were not vis­ible in my neigh­bor­hood.

I recall driving to graduate school at Pep­perdine Uni­ver­sity in down­town Los Angeles and observing people on the streets. I took the same route at the same time three days per week for two years. The neigh­bor­hoods could be described as run­down and in dis­repair. Some people pushed shop­ping carts holding all their worldly pos­ses­sions, while others sat on old fur­niture watching the day go by. I had been accus­tomed to the notion that most working-age adults spent their after­noons at a job or school, so in the case of these out-of-work adults, I wondered what their back­grounds were and what oppor­tun­ities these adults had, if any.

My obser­va­tions became an unscientific study of the snail’s pace of pro­gress in a poor com­munity and the unchan­ging lack of oppor­tunity that existed on the streets. I saw the same people in the same place at the same time, week after week with no job, no money, and no future. This com­mute brought me to terms with the face of poverty. I will never forget seeing the same five or six young men in front of a small neigh­bor­hood market, smoking and drinking from a paper bag in the middle of the day … every time I drove past it. They were not alone: People of all ages waited, wished, and des­paired nearby. They did not have much avail­able to them, other than an end­less parade of cars to watch. And I, in the traffic, watched back.

The inform­a­tion I gleaned from this ongoing obser­va­tion later informed my work as an edu­cator. Cer­tainly, I worked with hun­dreds of stu­dents born into poverty. The con­clu­sion I drew was that we, as a society, do know that edu­ca­tion relieves poverty; it is key in the fight to move com­munities for­ward both eco­nom­ic­ally and socially.

Our society has this know­ledge, and yet, why has our country not made greater, more lasting strides to erad­icate poverty?

Solu­tions are often short-term and there­fore unsus­tain­able; pro­grams designed to sup­port growth and remove indi­viduals from the ranks of the poor will last only as long as the funding does. A looming con­trib­uting factor is the lack of recog­ni­tion and funding for the need to make quality edu­ca­tion access­ible for every Amer­ican. Suc­cessful short-term pro­grams never seem to become long-term pro­grams. There­fore, edu­ca­tion and those sup­port sys­tems designed by com­munities never endure long enough to make a dif­fer­ence.

During our research, we vis­ited over a dozen major Amer­ican cities. Poverty appeared in every one of them: St. Louis, Detroit, New York, Los Angeles, Mem­phis, Clev­e­land, Phoenix, Santa Fe, Chicago; the list goes on. We saw people living out­doors, rain or shine, snowstorm or heat wave. Poverty was dis­par­agingly con­sistent.

Poverty was repeatedly a con­cern in schools, dis­tricts, cities, and states. Many cit­izens believe large-scale poverty holds us back from becoming a truly pros­perous nation. Granted, so-called wars have been waged on poverty, and social pro­grams have been designed to sup­port those living at the poverty level. In the mean­time, the gap between the haves and have-nots increases with suc­cessive gen­er­a­tions.

End­less research has been com­piled, and numerous pro­grams have been signed into being, yet poverty remains a fix­ture of society. The fact that stu­dents have only a spe­cific window of time to make the most of their school-age years makes the battle against poverty espe­cially cru­cial. We have much left to explore when it comes to finding weapons that will finally defeat poverty for good.

Since humans shifted from hunting and gath­ering to agri­cul­ture, a seg­ment of the pop­u­la­tion has always lived in poverty. At one time, to be in poverty meant no food, shelter, job, or clothes. Most people agree impov­er­ished living con­di­tions could and should be improved. Depending on the geo­graphic loc­a­tion in ques­tion, a person or family can be iden­ti­fied as impov­er­ished based on their income, size, housing, med­ical care, nutri­tion, and more. The com­plexity of data is so rampant and indis­tin­guish­able that the awful­ness of poverty has been lost in rhet­oric and mul­tiple defin­i­tions. The bottom line is identi­fying poverty is not as com­plic­ated as some may con­tend. In the case of chartered schools, many have iden­ti­fied poverty in a com­munity. They have taken timely, direct, and prag­matic action that has provided aca­demic and social sup­port. This includes health, well­ness, nutri­tion, social aware­ness, and self-suf­fi­ciency for young people living in impov­er­ished com­munities.

Much of the data relating to poverty seems to be developed and sup­ported by a variety of spe­cial interests. Some data col­lected by interest groups show a down­ward trend in the number of people living in poverty, while other data show an uptick in the pop­u­la­tion living under poverty. Other groups seek to define policies and laws that govern issues or con­di­tions relating to poverty. Regard­less of the defin­i­tion, level, or type of poverty, a child living in chal­len­ging con­di­tions is less likely to obtain a sat­is­factory level of edu­ca­tion neces­sary to become a pro­ductive adult than is a child living without those chal­lenges.

What remains clear is poverty is a local and national con­cern. During our dis­cus­sions, when we asked about poverty and its rami­fic­a­tions, answers gen­er­ally fell under two cat­egories. One group said, “We cannot improve chil­dren’s edu­ca­tion issues and learning until we reduce the level of poverty.” The second group main­tained, “We cannot wait until poverty is fixed to begin effective edu­ca­tion of stu­dents.”

Humanity and decency demand we care for our fellow cit­izens and provide for their well-being. Unfor­tu­nately, inef­fective poverty-redu­cing pro­grams have put a fiscal strain on local, state, and national budgets without any sig­ni­ficant improve­ment to the lives of mil­lions still living in poverty.

Poverty has less or nothing to do with choices and more to do with the socioeco­nomic con­di­tions of one’s envir­on­ment. Without the resources and oppor­tun­ities neces­sary to grow and thrive, a person will face mul­tiple set­backs that will thwart any effort to reach a level of suc­cess as defined by any soci­etal metric.

A review of the lit­er­ature on the sub­ject of poverty would lead the reader to believe a por­tion of the pop­u­la­tion will inev­it­ably find its way to the poverty level. Some have found it reas­on­able to accept that 4–6 per­cent of the pop­u­la­tion will be iden­ti­fied as living in poverty, chron­ic­ally unem­ploy­able, or home­less. Because the degree of poverty is also rel­ative to the measure of a society’s prosperity, the iden­ti­fied standard of poverty varies from region to region.

The causes of poverty for most are not clear but, instead, are com­plic­ated. Regard­less of the uncer­tain sources of poverty, the ques­tion remains unchanged: What respons­ib­ility does society have to provide for a person or an entire family living in poverty? Appar­ently, not enough people believe we have a duty or respons­ib­ility to imple­ment caring, long-term or short-term pro­grams to erad­icate poverty.

The cycle of poverty not only ensnares indi­viduals; it also can trap fam­ilies and com­munities. Men and women may have the desire to break out of poverty, but without the resources to do so, they have few chances to elevate their standard of living. For example, the massive indus­trial decrease in steel, ship­ping, man­u­fac­turing, and sup­port ser­vices that reduced cities to shells of their formerly pros­perous days threw people out of work and left build­ings standing empty and decaying. Attempts at redir­ec­tion, retraining, and relo­ca­tion did not return people to prosperity. After the failure of these pro­grams, poverty found a stronger foothold that has remained for dec­ades.

Unfor­tu­nately, it appears a sense of urgency does not exist within gov­ern­ment to solve the problem of poverty. Steps taken by gov­ern­ment agen­cies have fallen miser­ably short. This fact rein­forces the belief that poverty is a result of society’s neg­lect. While people do con­trol their own choices, the con­di­tions placed on them by external forces will likely cause poverty to con­tinue, unless edu­ca­tion and edu­ca­tional options become a true pri­ority for those respons­ible for cre­ating policy.

How Does Public Edu­ca­tion Con­nect to Poverty?

The thoughts presented above are an inter­esting aca­demic and philo­soph­ical dis­cus­sion but do not address the basic problem of how a teacher can help impov­er­ished stu­dents learn. Research tells us a child who comes to school hungry (per­haps even mal­nour­ished) and lacking a night of restful sleep, which are common aspects of living under the stress of poverty, is less likely to per­form well aca­dem­ic­ally.

Teachers are lim­ited in how they can address poverty inside or out­side their classroom. The stu­dent has lim­ited time to learn; each year is crit­ical to the stu­dent’s aca­demic growth. While society deals with com­munity poverty, the teacher must provide high-quality learning each day. Efforts to resolve issues of poverty must be addressed at the same time chil­dren are being moved for­ward in their learning. This clearly poses a great chal­lenge to edu­cators. So what exactly is wrong with public edu­ca­tion?

What used to be a respected system is being singled out for attacks from many sides for its inab­ility to combat this great soci­etal issue: poverty. Is it too much to expect that a high-quality edu­ca­tion should improve the quality of life for stu­dents, their fam­ilies, and the com­munity at large?

Today, a public edu­ca­tion is extended to all stu­dents. Mass com­mu­nic­a­tion has helped inform people about the lack of equity within the many neigh­bor­hoods that make up a city. As noted before, com­munities have found their voice; they want to see change. The expect­a­tion is that, because public schools are the main vehicle for edu­cating our nation’s youth, schools must be able to deliver strong instruc­tion. This instruc­tion must reflect an assur­ance that the best edu­ca­tion pos­sible in one part of the com­munity is access­ible to all other com­munities. Those within public edu­ca­tion know they are being held respons­ible for the delivery of res­ults that will demon­strate their insti­tu­tion is the great equal­izer. The classroom may not be respons­ible for removing poverty in a city; it is, how­ever, respons­ible for cre­ating oppor­tunity.

Poverty affects edu­ca­tional out­comes. Busi­ness owners com­plain schools are not pre­paring young people for the work­force. Some stu­dents cannot even read, write, or com­plete basic math­em­at­ical com­pu­ta­tions. Polit­ical organ­izers, urban clergy, com­munity-based organ­iz­a­tions, and par­ents are frus­trated about inequity, injustice, lack of access, and poor-quality edu­ca­tion—and right­fully so.

Legis­lators are trying to pass laws that play up to well-funded spe­cial interest groups in hopes of cur­rying a large volume of voter sup­port. How­ever, nothing actu­ally seems to be redu­cing the level of poverty in most of the suf­fering com­munities. These com­munities are dis­pro­por­tion­ately rep­res­ented by ethnic minor­ities. Career edu­cators have con­sist­ently advoc­ated for the need to improve the wel­fare of stu­dents while at school. Unfor­tu­nately, forces beyond the classroom are pre­venting a large-scale reversal of the down­ward spiral of poverty and low stu­dent per­form­ance.

While the simple cure to poverty is yet unknown, unless society provides reas­on­able, equit­able eco­nomic oppor­tun­ities and a basic level of edu­ca­tion, there will be little to no pro­gress made for these chil­dren. Thus, the poverty cycle will con­tinue.

The tra­di­tional edu­ca­tion system has been called out to reduce the poor per­form­ance of chil­dren in poverty in urban, sub­urban, and rural com­munities. Edu­cators ask how they can be respons­ible for turning around a soci­etal malady over which they have no con­trol. It seems edu­cators are under­funded, over­worked, and under­ap­pre­ci­ated. Many feel they are shoul­dering blame for the poverty of their stu­dents, which they feel power­less to improve.

Research tells us rel­at­ively low poverty levels in a given pop­u­la­tion will have min­imal impact on the socioeco­nomic devel­op­ment of a geo­graphic loc­a­tion. Con­versely, a sig­ni­fic­antly high poverty level will have dire con­sequences for the socioeco­nomic viab­ility of a region and not only will neg­at­ively affect a com­munity’s sta­bility but will also increase the poten­tial for more poverty. The United States must fight to keep its poverty levels from rising to this level and above, and even though it is a chal­lenge, edu­cating under­priv­ileged youth could be one of the only ways to pre­vent this scale of neg­ative impact. The task becomes even more dif­fi­cult, unfor­tu­nately, when faced with the influx of stu­dents who are not only impov­er­ished but also home­less.

Fed­eral law describes a home­less stu­dent as having no stable place to call home and living at an iden­ti­fied level of poverty. If a stu­dent is “doubled up,” it means he or she is residing with another family or group of per­sons in a single house. This places stu­dents of poverty at greater risk of falling behind aca­dem­ic­ally or of quit­ting school alto­gether.

To better under­stand poverty as it relates to home­less­ness and learning, we researched schools in and around St. Louis, Mis­souri, and other urban cities. The number of home­less stu­dents in the state has doubled over the past five years. Michele Shumpert, home­less coordin­ator, began addressing the problem with a change in ter­min­o­logy. She tossed out “home­less” and refers to these stu­dents as “in trans­ition,” which gives them hope for moving out of that situ­ation. Her goal is to give in-­trans­ition kids the belief that they have some­thing to work for, that there is light at the end of the tunnel. In St. Louis Public Schools in 2017, more than five thou­sand stu­dents have been iden­ti­fied as home­less.

Over one mil­lion stu­dents in America are without a per­manent home. Their prob­lems mul­tiply as they grow from ele­mentary school to high school. Lack of con­fid­ence, dir­ec­tion, basic needs, adult role models, and more all con­tribute to an uncer­tainty that drains stu­dents of time and energy, both of which are essen­tial to learning.

The fact that US society has allowed poverty to reach such a point where so many chil­dren and young adults have lost sight of any path to the future is an alarm calling for imme­diate change. And data show the number of stu­dents living in poverty will con­tinue to increase. The impact of recent local reces­sions unfor­tu­nately cannot be ignored.

Defin­i­tions and Data: Not Enough

Throughout our research, we saw public and private sector organ­iz­a­tions attempting to curb poverty and its impact on schools and com­munities. Unfor­tu­nately, their efforts have not kept up with poverty’s chan­ging face. From the start of our invest­ig­a­tion, poverty con­tinu­ously appeared as a factor of import­ance but not the head­line.

Every city we researched demon­strated some degree of poverty. Where we saw poverty, we saw hope­less­ness and depres­sion. The reality is poverty is massive, con­tinuing to increase, and those best equipped to address it seem to have dir­ected their atten­tion else­where.

Society has learned how to make some effective inroads, con­nec­tions, and improve­ments: all short-term. These inroads might focus on tem­porary housing, meals, health ser­vices, employ­ment, and relo­ca­tion. While these efforts to decrease poverty have bene­fitted our nation’s most vul­ner­able pop­u­la­tions, it often seems as if poverty is so per­vasive, wide­spread, and lasting that society does not know how to stop it or even reduce its growth.

We cannot jus­tify society failing to direct more energy toward erad­ic­ating this con­di­tion, espe­cially for the chil­dren so greatly affected by poverty. What greater way not only to improve the safety and hap­pi­ness of mil­lions of people but also to con­tribute to the overall eco­nomic prosperity of our country? Per­haps it is because, con­sciously or uncon­sciously, society has the belief that poverty has always existed and will con­tinue to exist to some degree, as though poverty is a nat­ural con­di­tion of human­kind. We cannot sup­port this concept.

Chartered Schools and Poverty: Repla­cing Inequality with Hope

When we began our research, we thought we would find a pro­file of char­ac­ter­istics that would make it easy for us to paint a national por­trait of how America was responding to change. Instead, we learned very quickly that pro­files for change vary according to regions. In gen­eral, the polit­ical set­ting and demo­graphics of a region strongly influ­ence how sat­is­fied or dis­sat­is­fied the public is with its schools. These politics and demo­graphics are crit­ic­ally important in terms of how charter laws are formed and develop over time.

In some states, stu­dents and their fam­ilies were able to migrate in droves from the tra­di­tional to the newly formed learning com­munities found in chartered schools in hopes of escaping poverty. The new schools offered par­ents and stu­dents a viable promise of change and an end to harmful con­di­tions in their neigh­bor­hoods.

Regard­less of loc­a­tion, how­ever, we were also deeply aware that the inter­sec­tion of race and poverty des­per­ately needed vocal agents of change. Even so, we were not entirely pre­pared for the vis­ceral response we had when we wit­nessed rav­aged neigh­bor­hoods across the nation. We cannot stress enough the need for change.

The decline of muni­cipal infra­struc­tures due to a shrinking tax base was shocking and painful to see in many cities. Trav­eling through blocks and blocks of what looked like burned-out and deserted war zones cre­ated a ghastly reminder of what hap­pens when schools are closed. On occa­sion where a school remained open, we happened on what we con­sidered benign neg­lect. By this we mean the tools for instruc­tion were avail­able, but there also seemed to be a lack of will in terms of a school’s need to con­nect to stu­dents, their fam­ilies, and the com­munity. Whether this is motiv­ated by race, we cannot say for cer­tain, but we do know that benign neg­lect and its neg­ative impact on all res­id­ents’ access to quality edu­ca­tion cannot be ignored.

We saw cities and towns tee­tering on a pre­cipice of failure, going the way of those strug­gling urban com­munities we observed. The impact on our nation’s edu­ca­tional pro­file has been dev­ast­ating.

It would be wrong to ignore the plight of chartered school author­izers who are strug­gling to not only revisit their respons­ib­il­ities in regard to providing policy and reg­u­la­tion that govern over­sight of chartered schools but also create policy that best enables a chartered school to meet the needs of under­priv­ileged chil­dren. If chartered schools have prob­lem­atic issues to deal with, so too do the struc­tures within the edu­ca­tional estab­lish­ment that are respons­ible for chartered schools.

Anti-chartered Push­back Will Not Stop Our Fight against Poverty

Volumes have been written about how edu­ca­tion and poverty have a deep con­nec­tion to family, employ­ment, quality of life, health, and more. The con­sensus is that edu­ca­tion is one of the keys to breaking the cycle of poverty.

Even though chartered schools strive to elevate com­munities out of poverty, they have been heavily cri­ti­cized for sup­posedly making poverty worse. Edu­ca­tional reform critics say chartered schools that focus on poor com­munities only increase segreg­a­tion. Unfor­tu­nately, even the NAACP has spoken out against chartered schools in gen­eral. The edu­ca­tional reform move­ment must take strides to show that chartered schools aim to help, not harm, and are doing their best to act­ively adjust to the needs of strug­gling pop­u­la­tions around the country. Although some chartered schools may have con­trib­uted to segreg­a­tion, any such out­come is indirect and by no means part of any wide­spread, inten­tional, and nefar­ious tactic to pro­mote it, which is the pos­i­tion main­tained by the edu­ca­tional reform move­ment’s harshest critics.

Such an extreme pos­i­tion is narrow-minded. As Alan Green­blatt’s Feb­ruary 2018 art­icle points out, “Unlike many public schools prior to the Supreme Court’s 1954 decision in Brown v. Board of Edu­ca­tion, segreg­ated charters are not the result of delib­erate public decision.” Most often, such seeming segreg­a­tion is a result of loc­a­tion. Patrick Wolf, edu­ca­tion pro­fessor at the Uni­ver­sity of Arkansas, says, “‘Most charter schools inten­tion­ally locate in inner-city neigh­bor­hoods that are highly minority and are designed to appeal to racial minority par­ents.’”

Chartered schools are in affluent com­munities and socioeco­nom­ic­ally dis­tressed ones alike. They serve a wide range of com­munities. Fur­ther­more, if chartered schools are guilty of segreg­a­tion, tra­di­tional public schools are com­plicit as well. If one believes that either or both types of public school rein­force segreg­a­tion, one can find mul­tiple instances to sup­port this per­spective. This accus­a­tion dis­tracts from the greater, nation­wide issues that count­less chartered schools fight to counter daily in their classrooms. All of us seek solu­tions to soci­etal strife and to end the cycle of poverty.

Those enga­ging in push­back attack chartered schools for worsening poverty when, in fact, the opposite is true. Chartered school leaders across the country have inten­tion­ally estab­lished schools where stu­dent need is most apparent and where the edu­ca­tional estab­lish­ment has fallen appallingly short. For dec­ades, tra­di­tional public schools have been the only free option for a com­munity’s chil­dren. Unfor­tu­nately, subpar stu­dent out­comes in urban areas leave par­ents des­perate for better options.

An extraordinary amount of chartered school resources has been poured into some of America’s poorest urban com­munities. These areas com­prise fam­ilies living under adverse socioeco­nomic con­di­tions or large pop­u­la­tions of ethnic minor­ities or both. And their suc­cess has been remark­able. According to the Press-Enter­prise, Cali­fornia chartered schools with stu­dent pop­u­la­tions com­prising a majority of low-income stu­dents are accepted to the state’s flag­ship uni­ver­sity system, the Uni­ver­sity of Cali­fornia, at a rate twice as high (21 per­cent) as tra­di­tional public schools with a sim­ilar stu­dent pop­u­la­tion. Fur­ther­more, “more than one-third of charter school stu­dents are fin­ishing col­lege pre­par­atory classes in high school, com­pared to about one-fourth of their tra­di­tional public school peers.”

Chartered schools have provided price­less hope for par­ents in such com­munities with failing tra­di­tional public schools.

Par­ents throughout urban cen­ters have craved safe, wel­coming, edu­ca­tion­ally stim­u­lating schools for their chil­dren. Time and time again, chartered schools have come to the rescue and provided a market-driven edu­ca­tion for fam­ilies seeking better options for their sons and daugh­ters. Chartered schools have applied the resources and cut­ting-edge, per­son­al­ized edu­ca­tional tech­niques neces­sary to take stu­dents’ eyes away from the hope­less­ness of poverty and turn them instead toward a world of pos­sib­ility. The fight against poverty is far from won, but count­less Amer­ican par­ents can rest assured the battle is being fought in the right arena: put­ting stu­dent needs first and empowering par­ents with a market-driven model of public edu­ca­tion.