A Day in the Life

Beth Hannon, Member 2004–2005

Be careful, there are many charming ways to describe the ACEE, AmeriCorps program.

Servant leaders draw students out of low-income neighborhoods and empower them with the tools of literacy and writing.

Compassionate volunteers donate 1,700 hours of community service to agencies serving children and families.

Tutors provide high-quality one-on-one tutoring to hundreds of children from Austin's lowest-resourced communities.

This vernacular that surrounds the ACEE, AmeriCorps program is one which would impress and woo any political leader, corporate funder, or school administrator. And the messages are true. However, what I have come to learn about this program through experiences with its directors and the schools we serve is that ACEE is not about servant leaders, volunteers, or tutors; ACEE is about children. ACEE is about families. ACEE is about opening doors for others.

International news from NPR blares on my black alarm clock. It's 5:45 a.m. No problem, I get to go to work today. 7:00 a.m., it's still dark, and I am driving to school. No problem, I know the kids will arrive at the school only a short time after I do. I work with eight students individually and provide support to over forty students in two of Allison Elementary's kindergarten classes. The students are the face of ACEE, AmeriCorps. They are the driving force, the courage we need to create educational change, and the reason that the tutors, servant leaders, and volunteers are a complete success in what we do. The school is on the southeast side. I have come to realize that it is a foundation within a closely-knit neighborhood. There are no buses at Allison; everyone is within walking or driving distance. Moms and dads walk their niños to school and wave goodbye. The kids scoot down the hallway with green Power Rangers backpacks falling off their shoulders. Little pink barrettes hold tight braids and curls in place. It's time to start our day.

In walking down the colorful, artwork-filled hallways I hear the kids in conversations about new games, birthday parties, scary dinosaurs, books dad read last night, and food they want to eat. These conversations are in Spanish, English, and sometimes a little bit of both. I greet each one with a little smile and a quick pinky wave, letting them know they have been seen and appreciated.

Jonathan and I go to the library for our tutoring session. On the walk to the table, I ask him what he ate for breakfast.

(J.) "My mom made eggs and tortillas." (Me) "That sounds awesome. What do you think caterpillars eat, Jonathan?"

He thinks about this for some time. Finally, we sit at the table and he sees the caterpillar on the cover of the book we will read during our lesson.

Excitedly, he answers, "GREEN CAKE!"

I can't help but crack up. "Ha, ha, ha . . . Jonathan, why do caterpillars eat green cake?"

(J.) "Well, Ms. Hannon [pronounced 'Miss Hannah'], I am brown and I eat brown cake. Caterpillars are green, so they eat green cake."

OF COURSE! The profound wisdom of his statement is made with complete certainty. He has rationalized it enough in his mind so that he speaks with utter confidence in the statement's truth. The infallible truths that I have learned through conversations and experiences together in the library have led me to my own convictions. Being able to read is a powerful tool. Being able to think critically is a powerful tool. Being able to articulate an idea in words and letters is a powerful tool. Knowing that your opinion is valid and appreciated is essential. These are some simple truths that I re-learn every time I work with a young child at Allison Elementary.

Inevitably, these truths also shape the impression Jonathan's school is able to make on his upbringing. The tools will impact the connection that he feels between his small classroom and the community around him. They improve the chances he will have upon leaving the educational setting and going on to college and the work world.

ACEE is also faced with limitations. We cannot change the labor market where the fathers and mothers of our kids seek wages. We cannot change the educational restrictions that are put on some of the lowest-performing schools in southeast and northeast Austin. We cannot always increase the amount of funding, training, and community support programs that these same schools, like Allison, need to overcome such educational restraints. There are limits to the amount of impact our words and actions have at school, when children may go home to a family unit that is unsupportive. There are limits that the school, as a place of safety, can have in relation to a city block or a street that is unsafe. These limitations are factors we do not fail to recognize, nor try to eradicate directly.

Instead, ACEE, AmeriCorps tutors and directors believe, wholeheartedly, that helping students become literate will allow children the tools to face challenges more aggressively. Empowering children will eradicate social ills indirectly.

Magnetic letters sit on a white board. The letters C A T are stretched across a solid black line.

(Me) "Jonathan, let's push each sound. Ccccccc Aaaaaaaa Tttttttttttt. CAT. What is this word?"

(J.) "CAT! Ms. Hannon [Miss Hannah!] that says cat. Look it's the same word that's on the book."

(Me) "Yes, yes Jonathan. Did you know that you can read?!"

Simple joy.

Who taught you how to read? I don't remember; I can't even remember many of my teachers from that time period. Instead, I am using the gifts and compassion they must have shown me to better the world that I live in today. The blessings that light my day are not my AmeriCorps stipend. They are not the minutes and hours of limited "me time" that my job creates. Instead, my world is brightened when we make connections. Jonathan can connect sounds to symbols. Jonathan can connect skin color to culinary choices. ACEE can connect children to literacy. Literacy can connect children to a better tomorrow.