A+ Playlist

This used to be a joint blog, but unfortunately my participation peaked at a post about Baked Oatmeal. No promises about future writing, but when an important question arose I knew it was time to get back on Smorgasblurb.

In August, I will be entering a first grade classroom ready to discuss the mysteries of the term “o’clock,” what in the world happens when we add numbers, and how to make meaning out of all those exciting squiggles we call letters. I’m teaching at Maxwell Elementary which, for Denverites, is in Montbello. About 70% of the students are Latino and 20% are African American. Over 90% qualify for free or reduced lunches (the standard educational measure of poverty). It truly is diverse in its population and student backgrounds. I am so excited to have the opportunity to teach at Maxwell.

Which brings me to this post… I’m taking these months to get some planning underway. And, as the old adage goes, fun things first. I’m creating my go-to songs for an A+ (or, as we say in Denver, a 4) playlist. I’d love to create a thoughtful list of songs to introduce to my students. They’ll be incorporated into our day through celebrations, transitions, clean-up, etc… Sure, we could use some traditional kid music, but why not take the opportunity to expose them to some classics or greats?

Some songs should be windows (a look into a different way or time of life) and some should be mirrors (affirming their own culture or experiences) for my classroom. With that in mind…

What songs or artists do you think my students should get to experience?

Mortensen, Madonna and Saving the World

Picture this scene: You are dining at a new restaurant. The server hastily distributes the plates and departs with a sarcastic, “Enjoy!” You sample each portion of the meal, but with every passing bite, your disappointment swells. The sautéed chicken is undercooked and flavorless. The corn risotto is pasty and infused with inexcusable quantities of black pepper. Wilting iceberg lettuce and gobs of artery-clogging dressing compose a poor façade of a salad.

As you dejectedly push the underwhelming plate away, the chef stops by your table for his customary check-in. “How’s the meal?” he asks.

You proceed to detail the substandard reality of the bad meal and poor service. In the middle of your complaint, the chef interjects with an outstretched hand.

“Before you go on, let me explain,” he says. “I need you to know something: I truly, honestly, attempted my very best on this meal. I made it especially for you and had actually hoped this would be the best meal you ever tasted. In regards to the bad service, we endeavor to treat our customers with first class service. It’s our hope that anyone who steps through the doors of our restaurant is treated like royalty.”

The chef’s response is baffling. Regardless of how desperately he wanted to serve great food, it does not excuse his terrible food and shoddy service. You would hold him accountable for the meal, for the results, not for his noble aims. Still, this scenario is not as preposterous as it reads.

Over the past few weeks, two major charity failures hit the press. Madonna, perhaps America’s most iconic pop diva, raised eyebrows from the public and furor from the donors who supported her nonprofit. Madonna raised over $18 million to build a school for 400 girls in Malawi. The only problem is that her organization spent millions of these donated dollars but never actually built a school. “It has always been my dream to train women leaders who can help develop the country,” Madonna said when she launched her fundraising campaign for Malawi. “It is my aim to see Malawian girls get the right education.”

Photo Source: The Guardian UK

Greg Mortensen, the oft-ballyhooed author of Three Cups of Tea, was also in the news for what we now know were highly-exaggerated (in some cases wholly fabricated) accounts of his heroic journeys in Pakistan. A 60 Minutes investigation of the nonprofit he founded revealed innumerable cases of mismanagement and lack of financial accountability. Sadly, 60 Minutes cites that half of the dozens of schools he claims to have built are nonexistent, empty, or were not funded by Mortensen. Several years ago, in his acceptance interview after winning a Public Service award, Mortensen said, “I decided…that I’d like to dedicate my life to promoting education and literacy, and building schools in Pakistan, Afghanistan.”

Mortensen and Madonna, like the aloof chef, had grandiose and honorable aims, which attracted thousands to support them. As we say, their hearts were in the right places—in this case, Malawi and Pakistan. What matters, however, is the quality of the food, of the results. Is it any good? Are the results positive? If someone says they’re going to change the world, we should ask if they know how to do it. If we’ve learned anything from politicians and pastors; it’s that we need to measure them by the lives they lead and by what they have done, not solely on what they say, by how famous they are, or by the nobility of their intentions.

We aren’t concerned whether the doctor loves her craft, but about whether she makes her patients well. We don’t care about whether the builder hoped to construct the world’s best home, but about whether it keeps out the rain. We don’t excuse the doctor, builder or the chef and we shouldn’t excuse Madonna or Mortensen in something as important as educating vulnerable children in Malawi and Pakistan. Madonna and Mortensen endeavored to help the poor, but pious motivation is no excuse for bad charity. Big dreams don’t matter if you can’t season the chicken or hire a quality waitstaff. 

The Privilege of Influence

Down the road from Joshua Station, where my wife and I live, stands the second worst school in all of Denver. Greenlee Elementary School is failing. Last year, after four years of severe underperformance, Denver Public Schools terminated over half of the staff in an attempt to resuscitate it. The challenge for local families is that for most; Greenlee is their only option. This summer, the balance shifted.

A new school put down roots in our neighborhood. A branch of West Denver Prep, an innovative charter school with higher student growth rates than any other school in Denver, came into the community with a flurry. For this expansion branch to survive, the principal needed to fill the seats. And he refused to circumvent the at-risk families in the community. He came to Joshua Station, a transitional housing program home to two dozen low-income families, multiple times to recruit new families to join West Denver Prep.

Maria and her daughter were one of those families. Maria is a spirited and protective mother and she did not go soft on the young principal when he showed up. She pelted him with tough questions: How do you handle school violence? How tough are your teachers? How do you engage parents? Resiliently, he answered each question with candor and compassion. Maria left the meeting impressed and determined to enroll her daughter at West Denver Prep. She shared that with me proudly.

He came to my apartment three times and answered my questions honestly. Greenlee’s leaders only came after I told them I wasn’t enrolling my daughter there. They tried to convince me not to leave, because my daughter is a great student, but they didn’t fight for us like West Denver Prep.

Maria, a single, formerly homeless mom experienced the privilege of influence in a profound way. When Greenlee was her only option, she had no choice. She had no influence. That school, her only choice, was failing and there was very little she could do about it. She was on the receiving end of a bad gift which she was unable to refuse or return. This is a circumstance which plagues under-resourced, low-income families across the globe.

One of the greatest contributions we can make with our charitable efforts occurs when we shift the balance of influence to those who are historically without it. In the context of microfinance, one of the foremost ways we enrich the lives of our clients is through the provision of influence. Because they are customers, rather than recipients, they have a seat at the proverbial, and sometimes literal, bargaining table. If loan sizes are not flexible enough, interest rates are too high or branch offices are too far from their homes; they let us know. HOPE is a gift they can refuse. On the flip side, we are highly motivated to provide the very best services imaginable. Or our clients walk.

Jacqueline Novogratz, a leading voice in international development, describes this concept by comparing the market to a “listening device”:

If I give you a gift…you would be highly unlikely to tell me what was wrong with it. And in fact, when I visited, you might even put it out on the mantelpiece to make me feel good. That same thing happens with traditional charity. If I ask you to buy something from me, you suddenly become a customer with a big attitude as to what’s right about it and what’s wrong about it… So in that way, the market is a listening device.

When this transition happens, we change from the position of informing the poor about what they need, to adapters and listeners, responding to the demands, requests and influence of those we serve. We can empower and equip women, like Maria, when we open up the doors of influence.

the girl with the baby bump

When our pregnancy was revealed mid-December I wondered if the timing would allow me to engage in Advent to a deeper degree. Sure, we had our pregnancy revealed by six blue lines (2 positive lines x 3 tests = 6) instead of Gabriel, but something was clearly binding me to the emotion of Advent in a new way. While this may have happened to a small degree, I underestimated the way in which my pregnancy would bind my heart to my students and neighbors.

The spring was filled with moments in my classroom that I will always cherish (“Your baby is going to turn out so cute and I know you’re not going to have a miscarriage because you are healthy and clean”) and others that were truly humbling (“Ms Horst, today you don’t look pregnant at all! You just look fat!”). A month after the big announcement was made, this interaction occurred:

Me: You guys are going to have to make more room for this pregnant woman to sit down.

Feliciano: I didn’t know you were pregnant!

Me: Feliciano, you know I’m pregnant… we’ve been talking about it for the last month.

Feliciano: Well, I knew you were going to have a baby, but I thought you were going to be pregnant this summer.

I knew I was beginning to think like a teacher when I was able to appreciate the logical explanation of inferring on Juan’s assessment despite its brutal honesty:

“Inferring is like predicting what is going to happen. You use your prior knowledge and your beliefs. For example, I believe my teacher is having a baby. My evidence is that her tummy is getting fat.”

At Joshua Station, we’ve had a few gut wrenching conversations  similar to this one with Fanta:

Fanta: Is your boyfriend going to marry you now?

Me: Chris? We’re already married.

Fanta: But now that you’re pregnant… is he going to marry you?

Me: He already married me before we were pregnant.

Feliciano: Do you have a ring?

Chris and I didn’t fit Fanta’s five-year-old understanding of marriage, so the fact checking continued: Did he get down on a knee? Did he say “Will you marry me?” Are you still wearing the ring? Do you live together?

Now, less than two weeks away from 8.9.10, I’m beginning to infer like Juan… Using my prior knowledge (everyone I know has always stopped being pregnant at some point, usually around that 40th week) and my beliefs (that jab to my ribs felt like a baby is inside of me), I am going to infer that our life is about to get pretty dang sweet.

A Tale of Two Cities — Education

Two months ago I started a journey, in monthly installments, to two fictional cities—Assetsville and Needsville—both cities representative of poor communities in Africa. While the issues, such as poor health care and dirty water, in these cities are identical, the responses to these issues could not be more different—both in philosophy and methodology.

Tomorrow’s leaders are currently studying in schools across our country and around the world. The importance of how we educate our children cannot be overstated. However, well-documented problems exist in the educational systems of even the wealthiest of nations, including our own, as we stare at a future where, for the first time in our history, illiteracy rates will be higher for our children than they are for us. These problems are only exacerbated in places like in Needsville and Assetsville, where infrastructures are broken, governments are corrupt, and safety nets are porous.

Needsville’s leaders are aware of the depth of the educational problems in their community. In some parts of the city, the schools are the issue. Accountability does not exist. Teachers rarely show up, or show up intoxicated, and students receive only a semblance of an education. In other parts of the community, government power-brokers perpetuate the problem. Teachers are poorly equipped and undertrained and some teachers have gone months without pay because the local government has withheld or distorted aid funding. To counteract the steady regression of Needsville’s youth, they have poured enormous amounts of resources and new strategies into resolving the problem. They have filtered huge amounts of foreign aid to government-run schools. Yet, the increase in funding has simply expanded a broken system, rather than driving positive reform, though it is not from a lack of clever ideas.

“Laptops for all!” was lauded as a quick-fix, but the actual citizens of Needsville had no role in the development of the final product, and the program failed due to limited demand and poor design. A few Christian missionaries have set up quality private schools, but the reality is that donor funding limits them to reaching just a fraction of the students in the community, and there are no missionaries in many of the city’s neighborhoods. Sadly, the future is not bright for Needsville’s children. The numbers are clear. Despite all the increase in funding, the schools are failing and 30% of Needsville’s children are still not attending school.

In Assetsville, the future of the city is brighter than its present because of recent reforms. Across the city, parents, frustrated with the quality of their children’s education, decided to take action. Fed up with the quality and bureaucracy of their city’s schools, dozens of aspiring parents became the solution. They started private schools, many held in local church buildings, to provide their children with a higher level of education. Students at their schools consistently outperform their neighbors in Needsville and attendance rates are much higher. The local government even got into the act. Encouraged by the results, government leaders began providing private school vouchers to families and training to these teachers.

These schools are run by “edupreneurs” who charge a small monthly fee to the students, though close to 20% of the students in these schools, predominantly orphans, are exempt from fees. This arrangement adds accountability for the edupreneur, as parents now have a real voice in their children’s education. While providing a much-higher quality education for the poor, the school is also providing jobs for the edupreneurs and teachers, and in many cases, bringing the community back into the church building. Encouraged by the progress, a new organization was launched to support these edupreneurs through teacher training, small loans for facility improvements through microfinance organizations, and through curriculum support. The Christ-centered curriculum is designed with the edupreneurs and emphases entrepreneurialism, with a vision of shepherding and equipping the next generation of Assetsville’s leaders. Next month’s final installment will look at the guiding values and principles of this series.

*Thanks to Professor James Tooley, whose research I drew upon heavily for this article

(Chris)

I used to talk to them all the time…

Four months ago I found out the my master’s program was going to have an emphasis on diverse language learners. “Fancy shmancy,” I thought, “That sounds special, but really what do they have to do with teaching?” I knew what to do with diverse language learners… surround them with English, teach them some vocab, and sneak in a little grammar. Hand me that diploma, I’m good to go.

It didn’t take long until I realized that it had everything to with teaching. Everything to do with my teaching. In the last 12 years, Colorado’s public schools enrollment have grown by 12%. During that same time the amount of English Language Learners has grown by 352%.

My classroom is consistent with this growth, meaning that most of my students’ first language is something other than English. Unfortunately, many of these students have had teachers who adhered to the same beliefs I alluded to in the first paragraph. They’ve been told that their first language has no place in the classroom and the important thing for them to do is to solely focus on English. I believe that it’s critical for these students to learn English, but I’m beginning to see the social, emotional, and educational impact this approach has taken on them. Nowhere have I seen it clearer than my recent conversation with my student, Salene. It left me aching and even more committed to learning all that I can about diverse language learners.

(This conversation happened as Salene was preparing for her student-led parent-teacher conference)

Salene: I’m really nervous about my tomorrow.

Me: Why?

Salene: Well, when I lead my conference I’ll have to talk in Spanish. My parents don’t really know English and I don’t speak Spanish good anymore.

Me: Oh, I’m sure you’ll do great.

Salene: No, I really don’t remember it.

Me: Really? What do you do when you’re at home?

Salene: Well, I used to talk to them all the time when I was like three, but because school is in English I just get confused all the time. I don’t really remember Spanish anymore so I just talk to my sister because she can speak English. I just don’t really talk to my parents.

In case you’re wondering, this isn’t rare. I’m starting to hear about the loss of first language from a number of my students. Something has to change about our understanding of English Language Learners. Salene’s success in academics and English doesn’t make up for the fact that, at age nine, she’s lost her relationship with her parents.

(Alli)

Great job ______!

Melody (student names are changed) is a friendly, out-going student. However, it’s clear that her self-confidence is struggling this year. Her mom shared that her weight has become an issue recently and her peer interaction isn’t great. Progress reports indicate that she’s a couple grade levels behind in literacy (typical for most of my students). 

Melody’s grasp of English is also continuing to develop. She compensates for this by raising her hand anytime she thinks a question potentially could be asked. She might not know the answer, might not understand the question, and might not even have a thing she wants to say, but she firmly believes that a hand in the air is better than nothing. She’s willing to do just about anything to have her voice at the table, but it’s clear that she feels frustration with her comprehension and communication. 

A simple interaction with her taught me a lot about the power of direct feedback. I’ve been told over and over to not just say “Great job”.  ”Great job” connected to a specific action carries much more weight.  My co-lead teacher exemplified this beautifully earlier this semester:

Melody: I noticed there are right angles in all our classroom’s windows and doors.

Teacher: Melody, that comment was very smart. Thank you for sharing it with the class.

Melody: That was the first smart thing I’ve ever said!

What a heart-warming moment. Such a genuine response.

Defining moments happen when we directly connect our praise to specifics. I’m working on developing this skill in the classroom and relationships.

(Alli)

Intro to My Life

It should have been a clue about my future when at seven years old I insisted that my friends interview to determine who would be our “teacher” during pretend school. I’m not sure many second graders care enough about their imaginary education to insist upon those standards.

It was a clue, but a clue that went unnoticed until just a couple of years ago.

While in college I began to have my eyes opened to the astounding education issues in the United States (primarily urban schools). Witnessing these same issues in Tanzania developed my understanding of the injustice occurring. Schools were not acting as the “great equalizer” I assumed they were. I took every opportunity in my Political Science course to research and write about education (Undocumented Children and Our Public Schools, Civic Education, senior paper on No Child Left Behind, etc…).

I explored a number of options for what this interest meant for me as a young grad looking for a work in possession of a Political Science degree. Not exactly the ideal resume, but I found a program which fit the bill beautifully and which seemed to think I would fit their bill as well.

Denver Teacher Residency (DTR) is an innovative program which launched this summer. Partnering with University of Denver and Denver Public Schools, it prepares professionals to work in Denver’s high-needs classrooms. Check out the website for more information.

Consider this my intro to what’s probably going to be my favorite blogging topic. I can’t wait to discuss the achievement gap, my students’ ridiculous quotes, and ideas on addressing this civil rights issue. What a teaser… hope you can sleep tonight.

(Alli)

Lessons from Congolese Healthcare

In Kinshasa, Congo, a sprawling capital city in sub-Saharan Africa, HOPE International has a branch office with over 30 Congolese staff members and 5,000 clients. One issue for our branch manager is the provision of quality health insurance for the local staff. Brian, a friend of mine who managed this office for a few years, shared a story which typified this challenge.

Over the course of a few weeks, a number of the local staff members stepped into Brian’s office and shared that the doctor connected with their insurance plan was misdiagnosing their problems. They shared that he treated them poorly, overcharged for his services and failed to appropriately address their health concerns. As the complaints piled up, Brian paid the doctor a visit.

When they met, Brian confronted him with the frustrations and complaints of his staff, advocating on behalf of those who this doctor had wronged. While Brian shared, the doctor interrupted and said, “Well, have any of them died yet?”

Talk about confusion on how success is defined. No, none of the staff members had died—but that doesn’t mean that he was successful! Defining success is critical to the success of any organization. Recently, I have spent significant thinking about that in regards to HOPE’s work.

One of the primary reasons I believe so deeply in HOPE’s work is because of HOPE’s commitment to the proclamation of the Gospel. Woven into the fabric of our organizational culture is a belief that the story of the cross truly changes lives. Helping the poor in their physical state is wonderful and important, but if we are just helping those that are oppressed become oppressors—is that success? Is it success if we are helping vulnerable individuals create wealth only to neglect their communities once they obtain it?

I believe in HOPE’s holistic approach because I believe in the power of the Gospel to reshape attitudes and soften hearts. When that happens, and hearts are changed, then we achieve success. Then we see our clients begin to reflect Christ’s love back into their communities as they rise out of poverty.

Clients like Berky & Rafael, a Dominican couple who started a school for the poorest kids in their neighborhood with their business profits. Clients like Oleg who started an aftercare ministry for men coming out of prison, providing many of them with jobs in his furniture manufacturing business. They have given back to their communities because their hearts have been changed. That for HOPE, and nothing less, is how we define success.