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#Poverty is not a hashtag any kid wants attached to their personal identity. From the time we first immigrated into the U.S.A. up to the age of 17, poverty crept up when I least expected. It made me feel embarrassed, belittled, humiliated, sad, unworthy... None of these descriptors seem to fully paint an accurate picture of how I felt.

There were some unforgettable moments that I would like to address so that perhaps you as a parent, community members, educator, and all of us in general can keep in mind. These moments could have been opportunities instead of scars. Although many years have passed, as I remember the series of events,I still shed tears. These were situations that I hid in a very deep pocket of my conscience without giving myself the opportunity to heal. Today, as I share, and know that this story may help change someone’s life, I am healing.

Remember building one of our California Missions at school? I remember acting like a rebellious student who did not want to complete the assignment that was worth 50% of our final grade. The day we received our assignment, we were shown live examples of previous missions, and amazing photographs from outstanding award winning work. Along with this information came instructions on how to order a kit without exact figures on how much it would cost. The examples looked so good that I thought it would be very costly.

When I arrived home, I thought about my grade, the cost, and how I would explain the need to my mother. If I would have, she being the amazing mother she is would have done everything in her power to get it for me. Yet, when you grow up with limited resources, even as a young child, you learn to quickly make your own assessments. After taking a realistic look at our financial situation, I chose not to tell my mother that I needed to purchase anything.

The day our assignment was due, I put up a lousy I don’t care if I flunk attitude. Up to this assignment, I had been an A student that according to the teacher must have gotten involved in gangs because of my attitude shift. About 2 weeks before the end of the school year, the teacher approached me and asked me if something was going on. Due to her persistence, I finally broke down and opened up to her. She cried with me, and apologized for making an assumption based on my actions. She gave me ideas on using cardboard, sticks, and old toys to build my mission and allowed me to turn it in to improve my grade.

Needless to say that I was once again, excited about school and went home and did what I could with what I was able to find. Sometimes our attitude and acting up is just a way to hide reality and protect ourselves from criticism and ridicule. It felt empowering to be able to think I could do it regardless of my reality.

In another similar occasion, when taking a wood shop class, we were asked to build a bridge. Once again, we would need to purchase a famous kit. This time although, I had gained knowledge. Our assignment was due in the early summer time, so it worked out perfectly. I would spend hours staring at the ground picking up popsicle sticks that kids would throw on the ground. When crunch time came and I did not have enough, I would dig in the trash cans as soon as the sun was about to set so that hopefully nobody caught me.

When the deadline came around, I turned in my assignment and for sure thought I would get an A on it because my time investment and exposure made me feel that way. When it came back with an F on it, I became upset, and careless. It was difficult to digest an F since I had spend many hours looking for the materials I would need. According to the teacher, my F was a reflection of my lack of detail to strengthening the bridge and not enough material used to give it support, style, and the needed architectural aesthetics.

My collection of popsicle sticks was not enough for me to place them close enough, build sides, and create design. It was a simple bridge that in my eyes was the result of many hours walking around, and digging into trash cans. This time, when I decided to take initiative and not allow my financial situation to be a hinder, I failed. One thing was true though, I was not about to reveal the fact that I could not afford a complete kit, or a beautiful presentation board, or the fact that I had no idea where to find these items since we did not drive out of our small unincorporated community that had none of the resources handy for me to purchase in town.

With classrooms being more crowded than ever before, it is important that we understand that poverty has not left our communities. There will continue to be children who cannot afford materials, clothing, backpacks, perfectly fitted clothes and therefore end up wearing clothes two sizes too big (I had to wear my two older brothers hand-me-downs) a well timed haircut, a good balanced breakfast, toothpaste, or enough money to have clean clothing on everyday (went through each one of these situations).

Empathy, communication, and a desire to be one with those around us is of high importance. We as parents,siblings, co workers,educators, and community can all play a positive role in the achievement of successful generations. There is always a root cause to behavioral issues. Knowing each other’s stories can be transformative. As a child, I used to hid behind a smile that was tired of showing up. #Parenting #Children #School #Educator #Teacher #BehavioralIssues