A Tale of Two Weeks

With apologies to Charles Dickens, in some ways the last week felt like the best of weeks and the worst of weeks all at once. The week started with frustrating meetings that felt like they were impeding what we are trying to do. What seemed like straightforward simple steps to helping people and normalizing help were getting caught up in the web of bureaucracy. I was convinced if you try to disrupt a system, the system fights back, and the system probably wins. I believe I even vented that frustration on Twitter. What's hard to understand about opposition is it comes in the most insidious ways, often from the nicest, well-meaning people. My industry tends to be a little risk averse, so if you are "out there" on an idea, people will search for precedent to justify it, and if they can't find it, the pace of change can slow to a crawl. I've been the risk-averse person in the past, so I don't get upset with anyone personally, but I do have new empathy for people I've held back. It is very hard to see a problem so clearly and have to navigate others' hurdles to solve it. Social media has turned out to be a great place to find inspiration to continue in those low moments, and my friend Cara Crowley picked me up in the most succinct way. She seems to be sort of gifted that way and reminded me "We are their (students) advocates & they are our inspiration. The rest is silliness & frustrating nonsense." Just what I needed and so perfectly said...

Navigating systems is challenging, but it was also the best of weeks. I had a chance to present on our work at the local library to an audience of library staff and parent-educators. The parent-educators emailed me to say they are meeting this week to discuss how to implement some poverty informed concepts in their world, and I can't wait to hear back where our ideas took them. Our library was already doing cool stuff like the video above, but they were enthused to find like-minded folks, and I hope we can reduce barriers together going forward. Public libraries are pretty poverty-informed by definition, and ours serves as a de facto daytime homeless shelter, so I am excited to learn from them. I also got to co-present on campus with my colleague Kirsten Daykin (pictured here) who is doing amazing work about trauma and education. Our feedback was quite positive as well, but the week was topped off by organizational good news. Our Vice President (my boss) shared my division would be taking on new responsibilities in our Learning Commons, which I'd been advocating for and was thrilled to learn, but more remarkably her college wide email said this: "(Our Division's) passion and progressive work with poverty informed practices will help guide just-in-time supports and reduce barriers to student success." It was the best week indeed!

Our college strategic plan is very focused on equity and inclusion, but if I'm honest, I'm not sure the word poverty appears in it. In less than a year, our steadfast, unapologetic commitment to students in poverty and their potential has made reducing poverty barriers a linchpin of our equity efforts. So, even the parts of the week where it felt like an uphill climb are easier to take when I see that in action. It's funny what an email can do. Use of that simple term was affirmation our movement is taking hold and now we have a few more levers to push to make it happen. If there are lessons to be learned from our efforts, I think it might be as simple as a bias for action. Start doing things. Be brave and unapologetic. Maybe it was the safety of the library space and so many like-minded people, but I closed on Wednesday by telling that group we do not have to apologize for helping people get what they need and deserve. I often think of Dr. Donna Beegle's challenge to think about what someone must do to be worthy of your help. It's such a good way to find your own bias and root it out. So often, I hear well-meaning people basically require a ridiculous amount of gratitude for simply getting what most folks get. I wonder why that is? Who is that for? Doing what we are doing isn't charity, it's smart business with the benefit of being just. Let's stop apologizing for doing things that are correct and smart.

My speaking (for free:)) calendar is starting to get fuller. I love the chance to talk about what we are doing in part because I think it's important, but also because it helps us hone our message. We have tried to simplify and have really boiled down to two big concepts. The first concept is about a mindset shift that puts us in awe of our students who live in poverty and choose us anyway. This frame stops us from feeling sorry for people and activates our need to assist them in this audaciously courageous pursuit. The second concept is a commitment to reducing barriers at every opportunity. Barriers can be large or small, but any barrier can be a deal-breaker when even basic needs are tenuous. We also believe this work requires an intentional choice to love the students we have. We put love in the action category because we want it to be something we choose intentionally. You do things differently for people you love. It's just different than "caring about" and certainly far different than "feeling sorry for." In my most recent presentations at our college, I said our work boils down to helping change economic reality for people we love. It's hard to have a bad day at work if you frame it like that.



In one week, it was the worst of times and the best of times. It was the age of foolishness and the age of wisdom. Before my graduate school instincts kick in, and I start creating APA citations, let me close. If you choose to advocate for those who have been traditionally left out, you can expect to hit a point where you are no longer cute or admirable and are actually a threat to entrenched systems. That is the point where you will make a decision. You will either retreat back to pilot projects and small impact, or you will be brave and persevere. As someone who has been on both sides of that equation, let me reassure you that you will feel safer and more comfortable if you retreat. But, if you are like me, this safety and comfort will eventually feel unearned. It will feel like undeserved privilege, and the safety and comfort of your own life won't bring you the relief you seek. You will begin to wonder if it is ok to be this comfortable when others do not get a comparable choice. You will remember the seemingly random turns in the road which put you in your situation and not theirs. And if you persevere, you will remember poverty is a circumstance, not a character flaw, and get back to work helping people you love change their economic reality.