A Place That Means Something

There’s something about being at that school. Andrew Jackson Elementary does it to me all the time, it lifts my spirits. It had an immediate impact on me when I started volunteering early in the spring, when school was in session. Being around the kids sort of made all destruction and ugliness I saw all around me go away. I knew it hadn’t gone away, and wouldn’t anytime soon. But seeing how the children are doing, and knowing that they are the ones who actually live in it, have to wake up to it every morning, and will have to wake up to it for many more mornings to come, it just makes you want to be here helping out, helping their community, helping the school.

The summer has been quieter at Andrew Jackson. Play Power, the program through which I got my start volunteering, still ran a summer session up until July 15. And about 500 kids were in the summer program at the school, so there was activity. But half the building was empty, many of the classrooms locked. The feeling in the building was different, much more so than when there were 2000-plus kids filing up and down the hallways. Yet I still loved being there. I would go by there for an hour or two here and there, not really to help with Play Power, but rather just to see what was going on, see some of the children. I also wanted to keep in regular communication with the front office folks, Principal Harlton and her staff, and stay on top of anything that came in for the School Supply Drive we’re doing.

The last two weeks, since summer session ended July 15, have been really quiet. I’ve been in a few times to help unpack boxes. There are literally dozens of stacks of boxes that need attention. The funny thing is, in the real world, not only would I not enjoy that kind of work but I wouldn’t even contemplate doing it. But here, at AJ, I just like being in that building, I like the feeling I have, the energy, what the place stands for. It’s still the only Elementary School in St. Bernard Parish, and will be for the 2007-08 school year (although 6^th Grade will be breaking out into another school this year, leaving AJ to house the pre-K thru 5^th graders). If there’s any place that needs and deserves and should get attention, it’s a school that teaches and cares for hundreds of children. Many of the other projects, sure, they’re for great causes, and need to be done. And I’ll continue to be involved, but they’re tainted. There’s politics, there’s corruption, there’s crookedness, there’s ego. It’s like the real world, it’s like corporate America. I left that back in February when I decided to come here. I left that for 2007. This year is committed to helping people, not fighting with them – although I still do that on occasion. I have to try harder and not do that. But 2007, it’s for this, it’s for unpacking boxes and helping kids and talking to parents and sitting and listening to teachers or assistant principals talk because they have the same problems every other resident has here. They lost homes and live in trailers and have exhausted savings, too.

There’s no paycheck, there’s no office with my name on it, there’s no cubicle, there’s no people to call my direct reports, there are no meetings to go to where we all try to outrank and out think and out smart or out ego each other (not sure if that’s even grammatically correct, but who cares, if you’ve worked in an office, you know what I’m talking about). Here’s, it’s just about me walking into a building, saying good morning to teachers and principals, them smiling back and thanking me for being there. It’s for talking to parents who are signing their kids up for school, and it’s for watching kids who have none of the advantages that I had when I was their age run around and smile and still be happy. If they can be that way, I can be that way. That’s why I love being at Andrew Jackson, and a big reason why I’m not leaving St. Bernard Parish just yet.

MORE SCHOOL THOUGHTS: Today was an especially active day at AJ. While unpacking boxes in the hallway, I witnessed a number of parents coming in, some with their kids, some without, to register for the school year. It’s interesting to observe, to over hear what’s going on. Most still wear the same look or appearance I’ve been seeing for months now, that of a person who has been through a lot and knows the end of the struggle isn’t even on the horizon. Does that mean it’s all doom and gloom? No, not in my book. It’s a fight for some to get back on their feet, and I think a lot of them are up for it. In fact, I know they are. We don’t have to feel sorry for all of them (although some seem very worth of our sympathy); I prefer to look at it that we need to feel supportive and not sorry.

I talked to some of the parents today, including Vincent and Shea Abraham (pictured above), who were in to sign up Vincent’s son, Onani. They are all originally from the Virgin Islands, and they came to St. Bernard Parish about four years ago. After a few stops following the storm, including about six months living in Memphis, TN, they’re back (since late last year). Onani has been in the Virgin Islands with his mom, but is going to come live with his dad and step mom here for the upcoming year. Vincent and Shea have finally settled into a house here in the Parish. They are renting, and that’s just fine with them. They lost a lot of their belongings but they assured me they’ve gotten back on their feet and are making the best of things.

I have several months coming up where I’m going to be talking to and helping people who aren’t as settled as Vincent and Shea are, people who are going to be getting kicked out of their FEMA Trailers, for example. That’s why talking to the Abrahams was good, though, because they’ve done it, and I can remind others I talk to, or even just remind myself, that it can be done, it’s getting done.