When School is Home

When I see a school bus drive by early in the morning, it stirs my soul. Whether I’m in my home town or traveling, those morning buses cause me to pause. Finally, this morning, I whispered a prayer…”why?” 

He already knew my thoughts. 

He knows my heart.  

I heard that still small voice… “You know many of them are going home.” 

That may sound backward.

Most of us think of home as the place a child leaves each morning…their safe place. The place where someone knows whether they ate breakfast, whether their shoes fit, whether they have clean clothes, whether something is wrong.

But for far too many students, school is that place.

School is predictable.

The doors open at the same time. Breakfast is served. The lights are on. There is a desk waiting. And there are adults who notice when a child walks in wearing the same clothes again, when a normally talkative student suddenly becomes quiet, or when someone has been trying to make one pair of shoes last far longer than they should.

For some kids, the most consistent adult in their life is a teacher.

Think about the weight of that.

Every morning teachers, counselors, nurses, administrators, coaches, cafeteria workers and support staff walk into our schools without knowing exactly what their students carried through the doors with them that day.

And still, they show up.

They teach.

They encourage.

They correct.

They listen.

They notice.

They become a steady presence in lives that may have very little steadiness anywhere else.

And sometimes, simply being seen changes the trajectory of a child’s life.

That is a huge part of why we do what we do.

We are trying to strengthen the environment where these kids show up…often the only place that feels like home. 

When a counselor tells us a student needs shoes, we want that student to have shoes.

When a nurse realizes a child needs hygiene products, we want those products within reach.

When a teacher knows hunger is making it impossible for a student to focus, we want food available.

Clothing. Shoes. Hygiene products. School supplies. Snacks.

They seem like small things.

Unless you don’t have them.

Then, that changes everything.

Every need we remove is one less distraction standing between a student and an education.

Over time, something even more important begins to happen.

A student learns:

“If I show up, there are people here who see me.

If I need something, I can ask.

If something is standing between me and learning, someone will try to help.

I am expected to be here.

I matter here.

And maybe…just maybe…I can build something different for my life.”

That is the investment we are making.

We may never be able to calculate its full return.

There is no spreadsheet that can tell us what happens because a seventh grader stayed in school instead of disappearing.

We can't put a dollar figure on the teacher who became the adult a student finally trusted.

We may never know which pair of shoes made it easier for a child to walk through the doors with confidence, which snack helped a student concentrate long enough to understand the lesson, or which moment of kindness convinced someone that their circumstances did not have to determine their future.

Some of the greatest outcomes of this work won't show up in our reports.

They will show up years from now.

In a graduation.

A career.

A healthy family.

A different decision.

A cycle that ends instead of repeating itself.

A child who grows up knowing what it feels like to be seen…and chooses to see someone else.

That is a return worth investing in.

So yes, when I see a school bus rolling down the road early in the morning, I know those children are technically headed to school.

But sometimes I can't help thinking:

Some kids are going home.

To the teachers and school staff who make your classrooms, hallways and campuses places of consistency and safety: we see you.

And we are incredibly honored to stand behind you.

You keep showing up for the student.

We'll keep working to make sure the resources they need are waiting when they get there.

Thank you for being the hands and feet of our mission, and the much bigger one. 

Press on!
Shea