The Miseducation
Of Foster Youth
When group home teachers
expect the
worst
By
Ja'Nelle Earle
When I
went to high school in the group home, our curriculum consisted of
watching movies such as "The Elephant Man" and coloring or drawing.
We rarely did work that was truly educational.
I grew
up in San Diego, California. When I was in the foster care system
during the 1990s, most kids in a group home had to go to a special
school for group home kids. Now, some kids still go to these
schools-almost all kids living at residential treatment centers
do-but more kids are able to attend regular public high
schools.
When I
was 13, I met with a counselor at a public high school. The
counselor told me that I needed certain classes to graduate. In
order to be accepted to most four year colleges, I needed three
years of math, including algebra and geometry, four years of
English, some history and certain sciences and arts.
Given Meaningless
Work
I was
still going through emotional problems, worrying about where I was
going to be living the next day, so I didn't really take these
things seriously. Going to college seemed a long way away, and it
was not a priority. However, I did listen and remember those
requirements, just in case I decided to go to college one
day.
Shortly
after that I was removed from my grandmother's home and placed in a
group home. The school setting was simple: everyone in my unit went
to school together. This meant 12-year-olds were in the same classes
as 17-year-olds, and most of us completed the same assignments. The
teacher frequently gave us lectures that were very interesting, but
didn't have anything to do with the subjects my former counselor
told me I would need to graduate or go to college.
We
learned about being in the army and how to put on a gas mask. The
teacher demonstrated the quickest way to put on a gas mask, and then
several of my classmates tried it. I asked myself over and over
where this fit in with any of the classes I really needed to
graduate or go to college. It didn't fit.
How About a Lecture on College?
In some
ways, I didn't really care. Even though I knew what classes I needed
to get into college, I didn't know if I wanted to go to college, how
to get prepared for college, or how to pay for it if I did go. Heck,
I was pregnant with my first child. College was the last thing on my
mind. And no one in foster care talked to me about those
things.
But I
think that instead of lecturing us about the military, that teacher
should have given us a lecture on college. He knew about college,
because he was sending his daughter there. It seems that he assumed
none of us foster care kids would make it to college, and the
military would be something easy for us to do.
I met
with a counselor from the school district a few more times. I was
very curious as to whether I was on track or not, so I told the
counselor about what I was learning in the group home school. I told
him that the counselor at my previous public high school said I
needed certain classes to graduate and go to college, but I did not
think I was getting those classes at the group home
school.
I was
very interested in learning Spanish, so I asked the counselor how I
could take that class. He told me that the teacher at my group home
school did not know Spanish, so I could not learn it. The same went
for algebra. I needed algebra for college, and the teacher knew a
little about it, but since he could not give me one-on-one time, I
would not get to take the class.
My
social worker told me I was going to be in foster care until I
"emancipated" out of the system, and that I would not be attending
public school again. Her comment crushed my whole world because I
thought I would never have a regular education. Not to mention that
I would never attend a school dance, take school pictures or learn
how to socialize with other students in a real school
setting.
'Boy, You Sure Are Smart!'
Moving
from group home to group home, I found myself in a continuous circle
of teachers that taught the residents meaningless subjects and only
seemed to care about having the residents graduate instead of
teaching them something. I felt like the system was holding me down
and I would never get anywhere. No one I complained to seemed to
care.
When I
entered a new group home school, I was usually tested to see what
level I was at. When I scored high, I got comments like, "Boy, you
sure are smart!" It wasn't a compliment. It was more like they were
genuinely surprised.
Was
growing up in the system any reason for me to be less smart than
someone who grew up at home? I didn't think so, but the reactions I
received from teachers and other adults made me think that I
shouldn't be that smart.
They
seemed to just accept it as a given that kids in foster care aren't
interested in education, won't excel in school, and will be content
doodling all day. Instead of encouraging me to go to college and
take my time to finish school the right way, they made me take
subjects below my level. Then they would "disguise" the class and
put it on my transcript.
Cheated out of an Education
When it
was time for me to take Geometry, there was no one to teach me. It
was not my fault, so the teacher had me complete consumer
mathematics. When I received an "A" in consumer mathematics, she
reported the grade as an "A" in geometry.
She
thought she was doing me a favor, but really she was cheating me out
of actual learning. Later on, when I found myself back in a public
school, that made it harder for me to catch up with the other
kids.
The
group home I was at for pregnant and parenting teens was the worst
education-wise. There was a day when I was reading a literature book
that was at the 11th grade level. (I was in 11th grade at the time).
Students kept going up to the teacher's desk for help, and I guess
she got frustrated, because soon she announced that we would all be
working out of a 6th grade book because it would be easier for her.
If she put us all at the level of the lowest person, she could put
us in a circle and we could all work together.
This
teacher apparently didn't think about how that could hinder my
learning and hold me back from reaching my potential. It was all
about her comfort.
Role Model and Inspiration
At the
time, a lot of these fallacies in the group home schools did not
bother me. Then, at my last group home, I met one of the most
influential people in my life. She was my role model and everything
I wanted to be: smart, pretty, independent, and she was even a
social worker, like I thought of being. She talked to me, encouraged
me, and pushed me. "What do you want to do, Ja'Nelle?" she would ask
me.
When I
told her I had dreams of being a lawyer or social worker, she told
me to go ahead because I would be great. We talked about college,
and she volunteered to help me with anything I needed help with. I
talked to her frequently about the schools I had been in.
She
told me that in spite of all of those problems, not to let anything
hold me back. Those words made all the difference. If one person was
encouraging me, I knew that I was smart enough to go places with my
life, and that the problems were not with me, but with the system.
The way she talked to me and treated me and expected greatness from
me gave me a firm push to put my goals into action. After talking
with her, I decided that I didn't want to be one thing. I wanted to
be many, and I could be them all.
Determined to
Succeed
Meeting
this role model made me realize just how little educational
encouragement I had received in the system. Of all of the group home
schools I was in, I never heard a teacher even mention the words
"college" or "the future" in class. Plenty of teachers encouraged us
to get GEDs, but not to go out and do great things.
But
with the encouragement of my role model and my own determination, I
eventually rose above my past education experiences and succeeded at
my goal. After leaving foster care, I went back to a public high
school. At first I was still in a special track for kids labeled
"emotionally disabled," but I eventually got into regular classes
and graduated with a 3.5 GPA.
I
believe that I excelled educationally despite my background because
I was always looking out for myself. I asked questions. When someone
inside the system told me something, I thought critically about it
instead of being a robot and saying, "OK." I was determined. When I
had a child, I really got moving because it wasn't just about me
anymore.
Foster
youth need more caring adults that won't just be nice to them, but
who will also push them. Teachers need to encourage foster youth not
just to get by in school, but to go to college and reach their full
potential.