The Power of Proximity

As we move our division (and by extension college) in the direction of poverty-informed, it has become a personal journey as well. The beginning of our poverty-informed work focused on our three pillars: meeting basic needs: creating a sense of belonging and self-efficacy, and acceleration to stability, but we quickly realized this was informed and changed by proximity to the students we serve. One of the dangers of a career in administration is students can become an abstraction, rather than the fully realized human beings they actually are. Our efforts to meet basic needs like our community food bowl (The Bowl), regularly put me in proximity and conversation with students, in different ways. It has transformed how I do my work, and I'd like to try to explain why, so you might go down the same path. So, let me tell you about one of those students. Her name is Sarah, and she is my friend.

If you read these articles regularly (and thank you for that), you've met Sarah (Sarah's story). That's

Sarah and the author

us a few months ago in the lobby of my building on campus. Sarah and I met when she participated in our YouthBuild project while earning her HSED on campus. I've told the story before, but our first real conversation was when our project coordinator asked me to come out and meet with Sarah because she was very upset about something she perceived as unfair that day. It was a brief conversation, and she was very upset, but I was struck by her sense of justice and her intelligence. Sarah has an extreme extrovert's personality, so I knew of her at school because she made frequent stops in our front office, and her teachers also spoke of her often. Sarah was open with them in sharing things she had been through which would bring most of us to our knees. I began to develop an admiration for her, but if I'm honest, it was all at a "safe" distance for me. Sarah was a story, an idea, but in reality, she is so much more than that.

Dr. Donna Beegle tells her personal story and talks about the danger that she could have been written off because her grammar didn't meet middle class expectations when she went to college in her 20's. Getting to know Sarah has reminded me of that story frequently. She grew up in Kentucky and Indiana in trying circumstances, and her use of language can make you forget to notice how kind of brilliant she actually is. But somewhere along the line, Sarah decided I needed to get to know her, and I was blown away by the depth of her knowledge, and the breadth of her interests. She would stop by my office to discuss something about school, and before I knew it, she would be helping me understand the challenges of living in a town where finding a reasonable place to live at a reasonable price is difficult. She is well versed in current events and has no shortage of opinions on how things can be improved. I started to change the way I saw her, and I watched others see her differently as well. Sarah can be very direct and sometimes talks about things you wouldn't expect to talk about at school (she announced she was going to be an aunt in a way that made me blush), but she is direct, compassionate, and genuine. I watched her progress and struggle through our Wood Tech program, and I watched her change our behavior as we looked forward to her daily visits. Our version of being poverty-informed is to suspend judgment, and Sarah is a walking, breathing example of why we must. If we had written her off, we would have missed out on so much.

Sarah earned a certificate in cabinetmaking this spring and started pursuing a degree in Human Services as well. She volunteers extensively at her church and is a tireless advocate for people who are homeless. I often think about the young woman I met in YouthBuild and what my honest expectations were for her. I'm not sure the previous version of me would have seen everything Sarah had to offer the world. It seems significant to me and an important element of becoming truly poverty-informed. You need proximity to the people you serve, you need to be partners in their dreams. We are not searching for diamonds in the rough who can meet our expectations, we are trying to open our eyes and see the strengths students like Sarah bring to our college and the world. Can you see the difference? I think it's what the folks at Amarillo College mean when they say, "Love the students you have." You don't "kind of like them", "be surprised what they can do", or turn them into mascots... You LOVE them and all their outrageous humanity and raw courage. You eliminate the word "enabling" from your vocabulary, and you work to get people what they need.

This last picture was in my office on Friday. It feels different, right? The earlier picture is of a dean

Having fun

and a student who told him he could tell her story as best he understood it. The second picture is of Chad and Sarah. We are partners in seeing what we can become. We learn from each other and frustrate each other and care about each other. I worry that Sarah thinks she needs to go back to work as a carnival worker to make ends meet, and she sincerely worries that my lack of organized religion puts me at risk of eternal damnation. Actually, she kind of rocked my world Friday on that front. Faith has been an important part of Sarah's life, and I respect that. I have a different set of beliefs, and we talk about that from time to time. On Friday, she was concerned about the consequences of my beliefs and her eyes lit up when she asked me how we get snacks each week in the division. I told her one of the ways is I go shopping every Sunday and help stock up. She said. "so you are tithing..." and seemed relieved I may not be a lost cause after all. So, if you aspire to a poverty-informed approach that really gives different results, you don't have to be friends with people you serve, but I believe you do need to find a way to be in proximity to them and the truth of their stories. I believe you may have to take a risk and give up your "safe" distance. And if you are lucky, you might make a friend like Sarah.

Dreams

Last week was the annual Achieving the Dream DREAM conference. They hold it every February, and I've been invited every year and have never been able to go. I coach the Women's Basketball team at my college and February just doesn't work. It's frustrating because it always looks like a great conference, and this year, in particular, had such a strong thread on meeting basic needs and overcoming poverty, issues that are near and dear to my heart. I'm grateful for my colleagues and for the genius of social media to keep me up to date on what happens there. This year they were a little tougher on me though. If you are lucky, you have a partner at your work who shares your vision and has strengths that complement your weaknesses. I'm lucky to have exactly that. Her name is Mandy and she's my associate dean. If you are double lucky, you have a boss who gets what you are trying to do and looks for ways to support that. I also have that. Her name is Kat. Besides being great supporters, they also share a devious sense of humor, and they knew I wanted to be there. Which means tweets like

this one started showing up in my Twitter feed. That's Kat on the left, and Mandy on the right flanking Russell Lowery-Hart of Amarillo College. They also informed me we looked alike, although he rocks the bow tie much better than I do, and obviously I'm just a touch grayer. They were at a #RealCollege reception hanging out with all my heroes... Once they got done making me wish I was there, they also sent me some amazing information that got me reflecting on what we are trying to do with poverty informed practice at Western. Let me share a few thoughts.

During a session with Dr. Lowery-Hart and others from Amarillo, Mandy started sending me a series of quotes and observations that were landing home with her. The one I remember was something along the lines of how we in education have historically made ourselves (college) the long-term goal that needs to be cut out when students are dealing with short-term crisis. We have to be part of the short-term solution, so we don’t get cut out of students' lives... It reminded me of Dr. William Glasser and his idea of "quality world", and if you weren't part of someone's "quality world" you would lose any influence you had with them. It also reminded me of our well-intended, but not poverty informed days when we would suggest to students that they take some time off and come back when they are "ready." As I explained last week, I think we must categorically reject that approach (On "readiness") and find a way to be ready for the student whenever they come to us. We know people in the crisis of poverty are, by definition, dealing with short-term issues. We cannot disrespect their drive to change things by sending them away. If we accept relationships are key to this work, sending them away is a recipe for disaster. So, as we become more poverty informed, we know we need to bring supports and resources to where students are. They are on our campus trying to change their lives. As Dr. Donna Beegle often says, we should stand in awe of their strengths and their courage and do everything we can to help them on their way.

Kat was also communicating pretty regularly and wanted to remind me who else I didn't get to hang out with... That's her and the amazing Sara Goldrick-Rab in

the next photo. Dr. Goldrick-Rab has been an amazing supporter of Western's efforts to emulate her FAST fund and forgiving of my foibles in doing so. Watching Kat make these connections (plus several messages she sent me) reminded me we need to keep working to bring more resources to where people are. Slides on food insecurity reminded me I need to follow up with our local SNAP provider on Monday. We need to get students enrolled, it really can't wait. Like so much equity work (and I consider this equity work), those of us not in crisis have the luxury of pacing ourselves or taking a break when we are burned out. The people who we are serving do not have that luxury, and it is good for me to always remember that.

Missing the conference was hard, but I really did enjoy the barrage of texts, tweets, and emails. But there was one that hit home most directly. I saw it on Twitter first, but Kat and Mandy both confirmed they heard it in person. Cara Crowley was presenting (she's the center of another picture I got to remind me I

wasn't there:)) and someone asked Cara if they ever worry at Amarillo someone might take advantage and misuse the services they provide. Cara's response "No. We don't care. We're not going to build systems that punish 95% of our students for what 5% of students do." So simple and so brilliant. I sent it out to my staff in my Poverty Informed Friday email. We... don't... care... Because they are going to do what's right. Because they aren't going to build systems based on scarcity or fear of abuse. One of the things my team is striving for is how to create a sense of belonging, and not wasting time worrying about a tiny fraction of people who don't behave the way you hope in favor of welcoming the overwhelming majority who do seems like the perfect way to do it. We will start looking again on Monday for policies and procedures we have built on the wrong paradigm. I remember having a messed-up version of GED assistance, built by me (read here), and I don't want to make that mistake again if I can avoid it. I've only met Cara Crowley in person one time, but she got me right where it counts with this one. I think it has the power to change just about everything.

I titled this article Dreams. Obviously, that was in reference to the conference but it is also a reminder of the importance of what we are doing here. I gave a kick-off speech last fall at our all-college day, and I was describing how fortunate we are to do what we do. I said something like, "We don't make widgets, we help people create their future stories." But I also went on to admit remembering that fact was anxiety provoking. These students trust us. Trust demands our respect and requires our care. My president had instructed me (mostly humorously) I needed to give the "best speech of my life" that day, so I was very prepared, maybe overly prepared. So, I surprised myself when I went off my own script and said, "They trust us, they trust us with their dreams and with dreams they don't even know they have yet." What a privilege it is to get to do what we do.