Last week, a student in real need brought back memories of a time when I needed real help or my wife and I would not have made it. In a day and age where we have become so focused on standardized test scores, I sometimes hear colleagues say, “I feel bad that students might not have had breakfast, but taking the test is what’s important right now.”
When my wife was pregnant with our first child, Kaitlyn, I received a layoff notice from my employer. At the time, Jenny was finishing classes for her dental hygiene license, and we were just barely able to get by with her working limited hours. Then came the layoff notice, and our life was turned upside down. Thankfully, programs existed that allowed us to eat well, so the baby could grow healthy. My union also stepped up and provided us with additional groceries and a few dollars to help pay for gas and rent. And the Wisconsin Medical Assistance program ensured that well baby visits could continue. Without a helping hand from a variety of sources, I do not know what would have happened, and I cannot guarantee I would have started college that fall. Once at school, I got a job on campus and Jenny started as a full-time hygienist, so we survived the storm and could move forward.
But what about our students who come to school every day having not eaten breakfast? What about those who have had little sleep for a variety of reasons? That they come to school every day amazes me. That many come to school every day and thrive inspires me. That some come to school only some of the time or struggle once here surprises me not one bit.
I know first-hand how difficult not having the bare necessities can make challenges seem insurmountable. And I only had to get through six months of uncertainty. Some of my students have experienced years of turbulence and uncertainty. And so they come every morning to the one place that provides a level of certainty for them. A level of security.
So when we want to “hold schools accountable” and base every measure off of a test score, let’s remember that we cannot measure all variables. I don’t know what device measures the impact of hunger on test scores. I don’t know what device measures the impact of watching your mother suffer abuse at the hands of a boyfriend on test scores. I don’t know what device measures the impact of sleeping in a freezing car on test scores. I don’t know what device measures the impact of __________________________________________ on test scores.
But I do know that children feel safe and secure and loved when we find a way to provide for their essential needs. Where is Maslow’s research in all of the testing gibberish? So, last week, when I had an opportunity to help meet the essential needs of a student at my school, I called out loudly and often. And people near and far responded with compassion, filling a void. To some folks a simple pair of shoes and some clothes might not seem like a big deal or even a necessity. To this student, however, they meant everything.
I saw her in the hallway today, laughing and smiling with friends. I will make sure to keep that memory with me throughout this year and the rest of my life.