Meet Francesca Fuentes. The 14-year-old lives with her mother, Felicia, and her 17-year-old brother Franco. Her father abandoned the family with $10, two bus passes and nothing else -- not even a word.
Felicia does not have a job. Neither does Franco, who dropped out of school, is involved with gangs and drugs and was told he is the father of his girlfriend's expected baby.
By The Numbers
Children in Poverty
$19,790 — Poverty-level income for a family of three
26,439 — Number of children living in poverty in Washington and Benton counties
48.4 — Percent of children growing up in households considered “low income.”
— Source: Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families
Francesca attends school, but she isn't motivated. She likes taking care of children, but mothers hold their babies more tightly when Francesca is around.
The Fuentes family is one of the families living in poverty as simulated by the United Way of Northwest Arkansas. About 50 representatives of area service agencies participated, playing the roles of all types of people in the area. In real time, a month can seem long for a child who is hungry and alone, or it can seem short as the family's poverty level monthly income disappears paying for essential items. To represent one month, four simulated weeks lasted 15 minutes each.
I am Francesca. I walked in her shoes for that month. The organizers of the event noted beforehand that the participants would have a range of emotions -- with one of them being misery. Emotions came as a surprise to me and have stayed with me since the simulation. As a former elementary school teacher, I now realize I had only an inkling, sometimes a tingling and sometimes only a passing waft of scent of how children in poverty live every day in Northwest Arkansas.
"As you feel these emotions, you are changing," noted Lisa Fuller with the Career Pathways Initiative with the Arkansas Department of Higher Education.
As Francesca, I didn't really understand our family situation. But, perhaps recalling my own childhood, I held faith my mother could make everything OK. When Franco was sent to buy two weeks of food for our family -- with just $50 -- I demanded he buy Dr Pepper and Oreos. We alternately fought and kept secrets from our mother.
I felt pangs of loneliness when I came home from school. My mother was not there because she was out hustling for services. And Franco? Who knows what he was doing. A week off of school meant a week of boredom without the television Mom pawned to buy us food and pay the rent. I left the house looking for something to do.
"We know kids who are not involved over the summer get into trouble," said Melissa Fink, principal of Jones Elementary School, where most students live in poverty. "And with families that work, child care is not a luxury that a lot can afford."
Francesca was not motivated to succeed in school. A teacher for four years, I knew how to play that part. My teachers were patient and loving. I only hope my students felt how much I cared.
"Love is free," Francesca's teacher -- played by Joyce Epling -- said.
At one point, a deputy sheriff found Francesca home alone and took her to Juvenile Hall as the authorities looked for her mother. I didn't want to go and was perturbed -- how very adult. As a child, I met some scary people while I was in the area shared by the jail, including a robber who regularly created chaos. During my detention, our family was evicted, and when I returned to that empty home (signified by upturned chairs), I did not know where my family was. Talk about confusion and loss.
The clincher came when my older brother Franco came to me, asking what to do. Our mother had been jailed for stealing. A real sense of helplessness gripped me. Then anger, as my nearly adult brother looked to me for advice.
Jones Elementary and other schools in the Springdale school district serve hot lunches each weekday this summer to children from birth to age 18, thanks to a federal program. Fink said she sees a lot of older siblings taking care of younger children.
I must say my mother -- played by Carson Ronckettoi of Fayetteville -- was awesome, though. She spent her days standing in lines, only to be turned away when she was next, and the office closed. She would stand in that same line the next day. My mom visited an employment agency (as did my brother), but no jobs were available. I guess I wasn't old enough to consider babysitting as a source of income for the family. Many teenagers in Northwest Arkansas help support their families by taking jobs at area businesses; their earnings mean more that just spending money.
To get money, my mom, Felecia, pawned her jewelry, the family's microwave and two televisions. She then bought bus passes as a means to travel to the various agencies looking for services. She had to hand one over at each "agency" she visited. Transportation holds many families back, as they can not afford to buy cars, and public transportation can be hard to access.
Yes, my mother stole, grabbing a microwave and jewelry when no one was home. (Families were given cards denoting their personal items, and many left them laying on their chairs.) When Felecia tried to pawn the stolen items, the pawn shop employees knew they were stolen, wouldn't buy them and called the sheriff. Mom was released when she gave the items back.
"Except for a handful of parents, I really believe all the parents in my school love and care for their children," Fink said. "I rarely find a parent that doesn't -- now, they might need resources ..."
At school, even giving money to students to pay $2 for the class Valentine's Day party and $5 for a field trip to the zoo can be a hardship for families. I remember many field trips paid for with coins from a child's piggy bank. Even if a student could not pay, the teachers found the resources for each child to participate -- similar to situations which evolve every day in Northwest Arkansas schools.
After the session, many participants shared stories of rudeness and disrespect from service providers. Those who role-played as the service providers said they felt helpless not knowing how to help the person on the other side of the counter. And many of the agencies ran out of money at the end of the month, too.
One woman playing a provider knew to tell a student living in poverty he probably qualified for food stamps but didn't even know to what agency to apply. Others voiced frustration as they directed clients to other organizations, not knowing what services those agencies offered.
A struggling head of a family found a community development agency that had it all -- monetary assistance, health care, job services. But she found it by mistake. Word was not out on the street.
The deputy who took me to "juvey"? First, she thought herself lucky to find the job. Then she noted it took all her time. She had no time to go to the grocery store or spend with her family.
The robber said he hoped he made our lives more difficult, as that's what many families face.
Another family seemed to have it all -- a nice house, cars, etc. But one blip left them in the same situation as the unemployed.
At the end of the month, Mom shared the bad news: "We're broke. We're evicted. We have nothing."
NAN Our Town on 06/25/2015