Getting to the heart of the homeless problem

When it comes to homeless students, schools have their work cut out for them

This is a story about children. And need.

Jamestown is a village of about 3,000 people in California’s historic gold mining country. The mining boom is long gone, and the town capitalizes on its legacy the best it can. With a median household family income of under $35,000 annually, no one is rich in Jamestown. Least of all Elijah.

Two years ago, third-grader Elijah moved from San Jose to Jamestown with his younger sister, his pregnant mother and the mother’s boyfriend. Jobs had been hard to find in San Jose, so a cousin agreed to take the struggling family in and help them get back on their feet.

Mark Dyken, director of the Jamestown Family Resource Center, helped the children enroll in school. He got them backpacks, school supplies, clothing. He helped Elijah’s mom find a job and, over time, assisted the family into Section 8 housing. Things were looking up.

But then came a move back to San Jose and a subsequent return to Jamestown.

And Dyken—alone and teamed with his fellow advocates at the local food bank, clothes closet, wellness foundation, school and district personnel—was still there, providing guidance and compassion.

“You cannot give up on these kids,” Dyken insists. “You can’t say, ‘This child won’t survive in these circumstances.’ This kid’s home life has really been rough.”

In fact, Elijah’s is a homeless life, under the terms of the McKenney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act. The federal legislation defines as homeless those children and youth “who lack a fixed, regular, and adequate nighttime residence” such as those who live “doubled-up” or “tripled-up” in homes meant for one family; those who live in motels, trailer parks or campgrounds; or, worse yet, those who, as the act states, live at “a public or private place not designed for or ordinarily used as a regular sleeping accommodation for human beings.”

Many children, many reasons

Leanne Wheeler is the state coordinator for homeless children with the California Department of Education. She oversees a state budget of $8.4 million for the 2006-07 school year from Title I and the McKinney-Vento Act. The act requires every school district and county office of education to designate a liaison to work on behalf of homeless children.

Wheeler is well aware of the stereotypes the public often associates with the word “homeless.”

“When people do think of homelessness, they think of the dirty man leaning up against a wall or holding up a sign,” says Wheeler. “People don’t equate it to homeless mothers and their children. But it is a big issue. We have close to 200,000 homeless children in the state.”

Indeed, homelessness is not a popular subject. Most of us don’t like to think about it; and, when we do, we might feel conflicting emotions. But homelessness is a fact. And homeless
children exist, whether we choose to think about them or not.

And as Elijah’s shuffles between San Jose and the Gold Country illustrate, homeless children are found not just in large urban settings but everywhere: in small towns, in the suburbs, in working-class communities and in those thought to be upscale.

Santa Barbara is an example of the latter. The city bills itself as “the American Riviera”; it’s home to the famous—Oprah Winfrey maintains an estate there—and to the merely wealthy. The combination of well-heeled residents, resort hotels, restaurants and activities that attract visitors year-round means there is also a sizeable number of service workers needed to keep things humming. But real estate is expensive and rents are high, and therein lies the dilemma.

“The first and foremost pattern is the lack of affordable housing,” says Ernie Rodriguez, homeless education coordinator for the Santa Barbara County Office of Education. “Most parents, but not all, fall into a low-income category. Some have what appear to be adequate salaries or work at several jobs but may not be able to find living quarters due to the price or landlords unwilling to rent to someone with children.

“But it should be noted that there are also those families just plain old down on their luck and who need just some time and shelter to gather the funds to get back into housing,” Rodriguez adds. “This population is far from a ‘one answer-one problem fits all’ [solution], as each [situation]
is unique.”

Rodriguez has worked with homeless families where parents had master’s degrees but had lost their jobs and were unable to meet their expenses; second-generation homeless families; families with drug or alcohol abuse issues; and families in which parents had mental health problems.

“That’s a really difficult one,” Rodriguez says. “What do you do with a parent who has mental health issues, but their child is normal? What do you do when the child is smarter than the parent? … There are all sorts of scenarios that crop up.”

Rodriguez has great support from Santa Barbara County in tackling his challenging work. Since 1989, the Homeless Education/Liaison Project, the only program dedicated solely to advocating for the educational rights of homeless children in the county, coordinates with schools, districts, motels, shelters, soup kitchens, community-based organizations, and county and city governments to identify children and youth who are homeless, connect them with existing resources needed to get into school, follow through with them as long as they are in the area, work with their parents on the importance of school and on parenting issues and other related tasks.

In addition, HE/LP sponsors after-school homework programs at local shelters or other sites to provide children a quiet place to study, tutoring in math and reading, resources needed for assignments and a hefty dose of support and encouragement.

Getting to the heart of the matter

Many homeless parents and children do not identify themselves as such because of perceived prejudice and shame, making identification one of the biggest headaches for those working in the field.

“Identification is the first barrier to services because, if the family or children don’t come into contact with the social service system … or do not self-identify with school personnel, it would take a legion of liaisons to go through each community to locate them all,” says Rodriguez. “Since Santa Barbara County has one of the least affordable housing markets in the state … we know that there are hundreds if not thousands more who are living in marginal situations but remain unidentified.”

An attitude exists in some quarters that establishing resources to deal with homeless children will simply invite problems.

“Homeless education is so ‘new,’ ” says Wheeler. “ The mindset is that homeless kids are ‘those kids over there.’ We’re working to remove that barrier. We need to bring it into the heart level.”

Ironically, Hurricane Katrina assisted Wheeler in getting to the heart. In late 2005 and early 2006, about 1,000 students displaced by the hurricane moved into California.

“It was somewhat beneficial, because it opened up the eyes of some of the higher-ups to the fact that those kids have to be immediately enrolled in school” as a requirement of the McKinney-Vento Act, Wheeler says. “We got $5 million [to help] those kids. Can you imagine if we had that for our regular homeless kids? We need more money.”

As a key advocate for homeless children at the state level, Wheeler knows all about the challenges that district and county office of education coordinators face daily in working with children, parents, teachers, administrators and a network of community service providers. She travels the state frequently, providing training, support and encouragement.

“I’ve been in this job for five years. I’ve had a few conversations with very angry people”—teachers, administrators—“who say, ‘You’re making us do one more thing for these kids—we’re just trying to educate them.’ It’s a small percentage. Some may be stressed about it in the beginning, but once they start working with me, it’s an amazing eye-opener for them.”

She tells these colleagues about a children’s book called “Buoy,” written by Bruce Balan. Buoy has two friends. One, called Seal, is “very loving and generous,” while the other, Gull, is “reluctant and close-minded and self-centered,” Wheeler explains. The Seals of the world are gratifying to have for friends; the Gulls of the world are more challenging but no less worthwhile.

“The Gulls are important because they challenge you to think outside the box,” Wheeler says, homing in on the lesson she tries to impart. “You’ve got to go through to their heart.”

To get to that vital organ, she says, “I bring in pictures: I show them how kids are sleeping three, four, five to a bed; they’re not getting a meal. I say: ‘Just give them a breakfast or a lunch. Later, we’ll get the paperwork’ ” done to enroll the children in school.

The need is there, in cities and towns up and down the state and beyond. As with so many needs, though, when it comes to education, the money is lacking.

“Politically, I would love to see that not only CDE but California, as a state, do more for these kids,” Wheeler says. “That $8 million doesn’t go very far. California is so huge and has such a huge need. [Former Gov.] Gray Davis did a 10-year homeless plan to help end homelessness, and education wasn’t even a part of it. Now we have a different governor, but we haven’t had a lot of discussion about this. … We have to remember: It’s not about us. It’s about
these kids.”

Homeless education resources
Find out more about advocating for homeless children at:

California Department of Education, Homeless Children & Youth Education, multiple resources, including LEA and county liaison contacts

California Department of Education, McKinney-Vento Homeless Act page, program contacts and forms

U.S. Department of Education—Education for Homeless Children and Youths Grants for State and Local Activities