A Rural LifeA year with the Anderson family in no way tells the whole story about what a rural low-income family faces. But, it does provide a glimpse into what it is like trying to raise the most important people in your life when you know you can't do everything you want.
The Wellington community family is among more than 720,000 low-income Alabamians who do not make ends meet on a regular basis. The less than $17,000 Gary Anderson, the family breadwinner, makes annually is just under the federal poverty guideline.
He, his wife, Melissa, and their two children, Doug and Lisa, whose first and last names have been changed to protect the children's identities, live what studies report. Their low income makes success in school a greater challenge for the children, and, despite what they might want, the cycle of poverty threatens to continue.
However, life on the Anderson farm - where space and privacy abound - provides luxuries not common to many area low-income families. Their dirt driveway winds past a spacious garden bearing crisp green beans and leafy collard greens year-round and passes a beef cow named Supper that looks about ready for slaughter, up to the family's trailer, where the chickens and goats stay fenced in near a man-made pond. Further up the driveway is Melissa's parents' home.
Together the families live a lifestyle mostly self-sustaining through their land, which is a dying tradition for rural families, says Dr. Jack Shelton, the former director and creator of the Program for Rural Services and Research at the University of Alabama.
Yet, the country life the family values means being cut off from the rest of the world, forgotten in needs assessments and studies and often lacking transportation to access the very services provided to help them.
Shelton says poor census counts are part of this problem.
"One of the reasons that that happens is that the census has really not paid attention to rural areas. It took several years for the census to get an operative number," Shelton said.
If such families were counted accurately, their needs could be better assessed and met.
Like all families that adapt to having less, the Andersons face continual stress that can't help but permeate their doublewide trailer and feed on the youngest members of the family.
When Doug jumps off the bus to start the school day, he brings with him a night without power and little heat, or the stress his mother felt as she tried to fight foreclosure.
A growing number of studies show a direct correlation between low-income students and their performance in school. It is evident in test scores in the county and across the country.
The difference, according to a Harvard Graduate School of Education study released in November, could come down to giving low-income families $12 more a day for three years, or $13,400. By doing so, the study found the extra income helped low-income students rise to the same level of ability as a student from a middle- or high-income family.
However, why, and what factors other than money come into play, leave researchers grappling for answers.
The nationwide appetite for increased testing has turned more attention than ever on at-risk children, most often those from low-income homes. President Bush's new federal education act, Leave No Child Behind, emphasizes just these children and leaves educators, scientists and politicians trying to figure out the best way to get all children on the starting line.
Yet, many children, like Doug, do not receive a pre-kindergarten education and aren't on the starting line when they begin school.
A Shaky Start
Shortly after Doug entered school in the fall of 2000, he was diagnosed with attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder, ADHD.
Doug, a small boy for his age with bright blond hair and golden skin, also needed speech therapy, which classified him as a special education student.
The county school system sent Doug to Saks Elementary School, even though the family lives in Wellington closer to Pleasant Valley School, because the system said resources best suited for him were there.
Melissa's husband took the family's only car to work before sunrise and returned after sunset, which meant she had to rely on her parents or wait until dark to run errands. The result made it difficult to attend special education meetings with teachers and led to days when Doug would go without his medication, Adderall, if his mother couldn't get to the school.
Doug was placed in a class with three other special education students, and his mother grew more upset every day with the work he brought home, which looked to her like a lot of coloring.
Without a car, getting to Doug's school is one of many problems Melissa encountered. Although she is conscientious about getting the children to doctor and dental appointments, some trips have to be passed up when she can't find a ride. It's at such times Melissa feels that living where she does is a punishment.
The lack of transportation in rural areas is an issue social workers and activists agree needs to be addressed.
"There's been an absolute decline in transportation infrastructure," Shelton said.
The former Alabama professor - now consultant - has found that since 1940, transportation to rural areas has decreased considerably. The reason, Shelton says, is because it is not as profitable for buses and trains to stop in rural areas anymore.
Finding a way to help fund transportation was on Alabama Arise's agenda this year, according to Kimble Forrister, state coordinator of the advocacy group for the poor.
"Our main focus is trying to change the constitutional prohibition against gas taxes going for public transportation," Forrister said. "Gas taxes can only go for roads and bridges. We would like to put in the words public transportation."
However, the advocacy group was unsuccessful in making any strides with transportation this legislative session.
Obtaining a second vehicle did not prove to be the answer for the Andersons.
When the family was able to secure a second car in the spring, with the help of Gary's boss, they found unexpected car repairs and gas ate a hole in their meager finances.
Melissa allots $5 in gas a week, which usually allows her to drive the baby blue Ford Taurus to make a weekly trip to Anniston for doctor's appointments or to pick up food stamps. It still didn't allow her to drive to Saks Elementary as often as she wanted.
During a phone call on a February morning, she bustled around her home doing chores and thought about why she didn't want Doug at the Saks school.
Aside from transportation, Melissa said she didn't feel comfortable there because the school isn't in her community. She too attended Saks and does not look back on it warmly. At the age of 17 and two months before graduation, she dropped out of high school.
She worried Doug was being teased by other kids because he lived on a farm and for how he dressed.
"That's the only thing I worry about - that they worry about what people are going to say or do. I tell my son, 'You have to just let things roll off your back,' " she said.
She rummaged through his dresser and sighed. Already, Doug was taking notice of his clothes, which worried her. More often than not, he only picked out designer shirts given to him as gifts. She has no idea what it's like to go clothes shopping for the kids and relies on presents or donations.
"I had to hide three shirts of his," she said. "I wish they had uniforms. I wish the world they would get uniforms. It would be so much easier."
Melissa's mother also buys clothes for the children, which helps but also makes Melissa and her husband feel worse at times that they can't provide for their own children.
Melissa has a strong sense of independence, and it keeps her from relying on her parents too much. It is the way she intends her children to be.
The feeling is not uncommon among rural families, Shelton says.
"You do it for yourself. You'll help out other people, and you'll accept help sometimes, but you do it for yourselves," he said.
However, when the difficulties pile up and money stops coming in, refusing help isn't always an option.
Pitfalls
Shortly after the family found out about Doug's ADHD in 2000, his father was laid off his carpentry job, a living he learned from his father at age 12 and has worked ever since dropping out of high school. In addition, Melissa was cut off from the outside world when her phone was shut off because the family couldn't pay the bill.
Without an income, the wife and mother made it her full-time job to figure out ways to stave off the looming bills and find help.
Waiting in line at the Family Services Center in Anniston, where low-income people sometimes can find relief for bills, easily took up the majority of Melissa's day.
By the time Doug returned home from school in the afternoon and Melissa looked over his work, a depression already had set in, and her nerves were shot.
Some days, when she stops and thinks about things too long, her face will turn red and tears will run down her cheeks, without her making a sound. When 3-year-old Lisa noticed her mother's pain one day, she grew nervous and ran for some toilet paper to dry the tears.
The pit Melissa and her husband can't seem to get out of overwhelms her. Sometimes she expresses her depression. She mentions some abuse from her past, which she has never sought help for because she does not have insurance. Instead, she harbors it. Although Medicaid covers the children, Gary's income makes the couple ineligible. All of the other options she has looked into are not affordable.
"There is nothing out there for low-income families. If you don't stay healthy, what can you do for your kids," she asked. "Insurance is not in my vocabulary."
The family qualifies for about $100 in food stamps each month, but they often feel like some regulations punish them. The amount of food stamps a family receives is based on the family's expenses. The greater the expenses, the more food stamps. In 2000, Alabama began requiring car insurance, but that added expense is not recognized by the federal food stamp program.
Every time the Andersons seemed to squeeze by, another expense pushed them back.
"It always happens to us," Melissa said. "We're doing fine and then something knocks us down."
During a spring day, she sat with Lisa on her lap in front of the computer and played educational games while Doug was in school.
Lisa, wearing only her underwear and ladybug earrings, attentively watched the glowing screen.
The games work, Melissa said, and she already felt Lisa was progressing ahead of Doug. She planned to enroll Lisa in Head Start, a federal preschool program for low-income children.
Melissa quickly explained that the computer was sold to her by her parents, as is the case with many of the items in her home. Satellite television, the only service available in the rural area, and a once-a-month dinner trip to Sonic - she confessed as if required - are the family's only luxuries. She adds that they've never been on vacation or taken the children to the movies.
"That's for the birds when you can't take them on vacation before school starts up," she said.
The stay-at-home mom is a minority in Alabama, where more than 60 percent of school-age children have mothers in the workforce, according to the Alabama State Data Center at the University of Alabama.
Although Melissa spends most of her time finagling bills, she tries to spend time doing educational things with Lisa. Occasionally she reads to the children at bedtime, but finds it difficult to get them to sit still.
She worked a part-time job at Jack's previously and paid her mother to watch the children, but the arrangement didn't work out.
"I really didn't have any quality time with the kids," she said and then added, "My husband didn't like the idea of me working because he felt like it was my job to take care of the children." She paused and with a smile said, "He's old-fashioned."
However, she still searches for a part-time job she can perform at her home or with Lisa. She's never looked for day care.
As last school year wound down, the Andersons tried to recover from the setbacks caused during the winter. It became clear Doug needed to repeat kindergarten and, despite his mother's attempt to help him, she felt it wasn't enough.
Family Involvement
Parental involvement is like gold to educators.
"All research tells us any kind of family involvement actually improves student achievement," Susan Milleman said.
The director of Success for All, a foundation based out of Johns Hopkins University, finds proactive approaches to involving families, such as calling home on occasions other than when there is bad news, helps increase parental involvement. She finds this effective, particularly when parents, such as Melissa, had a bad experience when they were in school.
Parental involvement and choice are valued by researchers and educators, like Frank Kemerer, director of the Center for the Study of Education Reform based at the University of North Texas. Kemerer says giving parents a choice, whether it is public or private school, helps low-income students succeed because their parents believe in the school.
"We've pretty much concluded that if parents are given the choice of the school that their children go to, that significantly improves the situation for low-income students," Kemerer said.
Options soon may be available to some Alabama families after the recent passage of the president's education bill. If a school fails to improve over a period of time, parents have an option to move their child to another school in that system, if there is one.
This could prove important for at-risk and special education students, like Doug, who are particularly hurt during state budget cuts.
Although the recession has hurt school systems across the country, Alabama's education system has been among the worst hit because of funding based on sales taxes and the lowest property taxes in the country. Parents who want change might find some relief in the ability to pick schools that are working.
By the start of this school year, Melissa decided she wanted a choice.
A Fresh Start
Although Doug began this school year in a regular classroom at Saks, his mother still wanted him at Pleasant Valley School, 10 minutes from her home.
During a special education meeting, she demanded he be placed at Pleasant Valley. The school acquiesced, and Doug was placed in a regular kindergarten class. The change immediately relieved Melissa, who now volunteers and makes regular trips to the school. In addition, she is able to keep a daily log with Doug's teacher about his progress.
To Melissa, Pleasant Valley is a "down-home school," with kids more like Doug. She feels she doesn't have to worry about Doug getting teased about his clothes or home life.
On a November morning, Doug's class reviewed the alphabet out loud as the teacher pointed to each letter above the chalkboard. The class has 16 students - 10 of whom are on free or reduced lunch, a sign of low income. The class runs the spectrum in abilities, and the teacher fights for the attention of students with wandering minds and jittery bodies.
It is not uncommon for a child to slip up to her desk during a class coloring assignment and tell the teacher about their home life, including domestic disputes that occurred the night before. The stress the children feel at home accompanies them to the classroom and becomes one of the factors the teacher must keep in mind.
The teacher is in her second year and admits it has proven to be especially challenging since she has more special-needs students than last year.
She does not have an aide, but an instructor who focuses on helping low-income students pulls out several students, including Doug, for extra help throughout the day.
Doug chats easily with his classmates and vocalizes his enjoyment with lessons, but he still struggles to stay at grade level.
Setting Priorities
The odds are daunting for children like Doug and Lisa Anderson, but they are not doomed.
The landmark federal education bill, more commonly known as Leave No Child Behind, aims to help relieve some of the boundaries to at-risk students by increasing help for them.
However, it is not the panacea in Alabama.
Without a fix to the state budget problems, educators agree federal education dollars will carry progress only so far.
The state funding problems are like a visit to the doctor's office, says Feagin Johnson, assistant state superintendent of education.
"It's like if you're going to the hospital for a physical, which goes fine, but then if they find you have major complications and they don't have the equipment to treat you, you're in trouble," Johnson said.
What could be problematic for education, in Johnson's opinion, is at-risk students whose needs can be assessed but without state funds cannot be addressed.
"The average student is going to be able to function in a regular classroom, but those at risk, they're funded with special money that has already been cut in the past," said Marita Watson, at-risk director for the Calhoun County school system.
Alabama cut its at-risk budget 6.2 percent since last year. In addition, the state's most hailed program, the Alabama Reading Initiative, which has been duplicated by at least two other states, was halted this year because of limited funding and a lack of staff to continue training schools. The reading program is cited as a key tool for helping at-risk students perform at grade level.
Dr. Wayne Flynt, a professor of history at Auburn University well versed in the history of Alabama's poor, cites education as the most important factor in helping alleviate the constraints low-income families face.
"There is nothing more important in American culture, and Alabama has woefully under funded education, and there's no evidence it's going to change," Flynt said.
The large amounts of poor in Alabama behind in school, a labor force unprepared for the 21st century, higher-than-usual crime and welfare, and an undereducated poor population are problems Flynt says the state has to face.
"If you look at this in context over an extended period of time, we will either pay for schools and improve or not and continue
to pay in different ways. We'll pay in prisons and welfare
," he said.
The myriad obstacles that make life more difficult for the low-income population in Alabama is a prime reason some advocates call for constitution reform. Low-income families are the highest taxed population because of the state's 1901 constitution.
To Melissa, the frenzy surrounding the state budget problems and call for reform are far removed from the stresses of her country life. She admits she does not vote because she has no faith in state leadership and doesn't see the point. As far as she can tell, politicians have never helped her.
Shelton, the expert on rural issues, thinks the lack of attention paid to children and the poor in Alabama extends beyond constitution reform.
"I think it's going to take a lot more than change in the constitution. The same folks that vote and run this state are going to continue to run the state. There's not much to tell you past leaders
have cared about helping the poor."
An Eye Forward
For now, Melissa is content with Doug's placement in school. Although she planned to put Lisa into Head Start, she now plans to continue working with her at home on the computer because, she says, she can't afford the gas to drive her to the school every day, and there is no available public transportation.
On a recent afternoon, she talked about her plans. Living on the Wellington farm, with her parents next door, is how she'd like to spend the rest of her life.
Lisa interrupts by tugging at her mother's oversized T-shirt, which bears a washed-out image of the Tasmanian Devil. Melissa pours fruit juice into a small cup and hands it to Lisa. The screen door slams as Doug arrives home from school and heads to his room to change into his play clothes so he can feed the pigs.
Melissa stands firm that both her children will finish high school, something she and her husband didn't do.
"I regret (not graduating) because trying to find a job without a GED is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, so they're going to finish even if I have to fight tooth and nail," she said. "My husband and I decided if we have to tie them to the back of the school bus, they will finish."
She doesn't think Doug is cut out for college and hopes he learns a trade. If Lisa wants to get a college degree, she will be responsible for finding the money, Melissa said, since she and her husband decided they can't save for it.
She plans for the future with hope and often finds focusing on getting through each day the necessity. "I'm doing the best I can. I mean there are always times you wish you could do more, but you can't."
She hopes to find a part-time job so she's not scraping to make the house payments. When the kids get older, she plans to get her GED and a part-time job. Right now, she says as Doug hands her his Scooby Doo backpack, is not the time.
"I've got to concentrate on two things," she said as Lisa and Doug look up at her, "these two little people."
