JM
Kelvin Education
Published in
5 min readSep 13, 2018

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Why do we do what we do?

At Kelvin, this question means everything. We’ve all got to work, but — like anybody — we yearn for more in our jobs. I’ve heard intrinsic motivation distills to autonomy, mastery, and purpose. These things stir us awake in the morning and propel us over distant peaks. So, how did we choose our mission, and what’s our motivation?

For me, the origins of Kelvin stretch back to somewhere around tenth grade. Until then, I’d been an enthusiastic and attentive learner — a curious and energetic student. But things took a nose dive as high school dragged along.

Me. Kindergarten. That’s a matching geometric pant/shirt getup.

I was disengaged and truant most days. At the very least, I was resigned and withdrawn. In short order, I’d become “that kid,” skipping class, asleep, or off-task the rare times he was at school. Despite my dramatic downturn, I still loved learning. I relished my hours reading, exploring ideas, and connecting dots. I felt like a sponge, soaking up information to apply in the future for some unforeseen purpose. I was also a good test-taker, able to scratch out scores that landed me in the 99th percentile for state testing (whatever that means). I was passing my AP exams, so it wasn’t entirely bad news. Still, I was on the fast track to nowhere.

And I never got it together. Things came to a head by junior year as I sat in a school attendance review board (SARB) meeting at our small-town police station. I don’t remember most of what was said, but I do recall a sturdy wooden table, some official-looking paperwork, and stern (but well-meaning) warnings about citations for loitering. Even at that age, I saw the writing on the wall and dropped out of school.

If you’ve spent time teaching in a classroom, you’ve seen this story too many times to count. As is often the case, my behavior signaled something else was going on. Behind that ornery, devil-may-care facade was a hurt and sad kid. A lot was going on at home. Frayed and aimless, schoolwork didn’t matter in the face of everything I juggled.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a unique story. A lot of students wrestle with similar things or worse. Some endure hunger. Homelessness. The loss of a loved one. Not having clean clothes for school. Taking care of siblings or an ill parent. Racism. Mental health struggles. What’s alarming is that I self-destructed despite my many advantages, which left me with a haunting question: What happens to the kids who don’t have my same tailwinds? How many kids leave school too early? How many are hiding behind a brave face, masking similar wounds? Invisible to our systems and supports. What are the barriers they face every day? It’s overwhelming to think about, but let’s take an unwavering look at the numbers:

  • Every year, 1.2 million kids drop out of high school in the U.S. That’s 7,000 daily. (source)
  • Nearly 700,000 children are abused in the U.S every year. (source)
  • “More than half of all U.S. children have experienced trauma from abuse, neglect, violence, or challenging household circumstances.” This trauma often spills over into the classroom. (source)
  • “About 15 million children in the United States — 21% of all children — live in families with incomes below the federal poverty threshold.” (source)
  • 28% of students report being “not engaged” in school, and 19% are “actively disengaged.” (source)
  • Only 34% of students report having a strong individual relationship with their teacher. (source)
  • Only 42% of employers believe new grads have the necessary skills for success in today’s workplace — especially with social and emotional skills. (source)

Despite the tremendous and tireless work done in schools, these are troubling stats. So, how can we help? How could we contribute? Our team asked a former colleague, Doctor of Educational Psychology, Chief Research Scientist, and lifelong educator on a call last week what’s the one thing he’d recommend to make a difference.

“To have kids develop a healthy relationship with just one adult.”

Deceivingly simple, this proved to be a common theme in other interviews. The way students feel and relate to their school experience was cited repeatedly by superintendents, counselors, social workers, professors, researchers, teachers, and even students. Moreover, decades of research underscore and describe the importance and intersections of positive relationships, social and emotional learning, and a thriving school culture. We learned that incredible things happen when students have a voice in their schools, are engaged in their education, and develop strong social and emotional skills. These things pay dividends in the classroom and later in life. They’re better prepared for the workplace and less inclined to drugs and behavioral problems in adulthood.

Now imagine if every educator could understand their students even a little better? If we could proactively respond to a student’s ever-evolving needs, motivations, and barriers vs. just once or twice a year. What would we learn? Could we reach those unreachable kids? What sort of impact would we see if we uplifted our students’ hidden stories? And what would happen if we helped all students foster skills like self-efficacy, social awareness, and a growth mindset? The skills they’d need today to navigate life’s many twists and turns. Indeed, technology could facilitate some of that — and that’s where Kelvin begins.

As a near-disaster, reformed “bad kid” who improbably made his way, this is why I do what I do. This is why we build the tools we build.

. . .

Thank you to the following adults who helped me along my way:

  • Mrs. Rhodus for teaching me to dream.
  • Mr. Rochester for your endless patience.
  • Mr. Berman for making a safe place to learn.
  • Rachel Garcia for your tireless kindness.
  • Donna Tolp for your humor and opening your home to me.
  • Every physician and provider at San Antonio Regional Hospital for teaching me what empathy, professionalism, and calm under pressure looks like.
  • Gail, Katie, and Rufus for your optimism and always trying to see the good in people.
  • Lane Rankin for teaching me what it takes to chase a dream and follow through.
  • Grandpa. For everything.
  • Mom. For your incredible work ethic, for fighting your way out of poverty as a young single mother with two kids. For showing me the power of quiet selflessness.

Coming soon! Lots of successful people have difficult backgrounds. We’ll talk to people from all walks of life about some of their struggles, and how social-emotional skills helped them rise up and flourish. Sign up to receive updates here: https://bit.ly/2wTPAsZ

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