Relationships change everything

Several years ago, a Michigan foundation asked me to study high-poverty schools in the state to assess the impact of the schools’ programs on student achievement and well-being. I visited schools in Detroit, Flint, and the less-traveled agricultural parts of the state. I talked with teachers and students, sat in on lessons, read strategic plans, and interviewed school administrators.

As part of my research, I visited two schools in Detroit, both located in communities of concentrated generational poverty. The differences between the schools were striking. One school felt like a jail — guards at the door, broken windows, security cameras in the halls, and locked classroom doors. Students and teachers appeared depressed and angry. Fights erupted in the hallways even as I interviewed the principal. Evidence of learning was absent. Survival mattered a great deal more. The young people at this school had been deeply betrayed.

Not many blocks away was a school with unlocked doors, few security cameras, and a gallery filled with student art. No guards in sight. I heard laughter in the halls. Classrooms were alive with learning, and teachers appeared to care for their students. The principal came from the neighborhood and spoke glowingly of the students as “our kids.” He invited me to join him for a student pep rally. On that day, teachers were trying hard to dance, to the good-hearted amusement of the students. The place was alive with the energy of happy young people celebrating life. Everyone was included, and everyone was somebody.