Hispanic poverty in Harris County schools
by Rachel Mallary
Gabriel is six years old. He likes Batman, cars, and soccer. He likes to help his mom with the dishes and read books with grandfather. He likes to go fishing with his dad in the summertime and watches movies with his grandmother on rainy days.
By the tender age of six, he has learned to tie his shoes. He has learned to kick a soccer ball, spell his name, and count to one hundred — the usual stuff.
Gabriel goes to school in a suburb of Houston. For the past two years, he has shared a single room in his grandparents’ house with his mom, dad, and three younger brothers. His mother is Mexican, his father is Russian, and his grandparents are white.
As a six year old, you don’t see your own skin. Well obviously, you see your physical skin, but you don’t see all that hypothetical trash people stick to you like gum on a lamppost.
Gabriel doesn’t know that his brown skin, brown eyes, and straight, jet-black hair is a target quite literally on his back. He can’t yet hear politicians arguing about illegal immigrants and tax dollars. He doesn’t hear the racial slurs others spit at people who look like him. Gabriel doesn’t know his parents struggle to make ends meet and can’t afford an apartment of their own. He doesn’t see race and he doesn’t see privilege.
But, unfortunately, everyone around him does.
Houston is a hub for Latin culture in the southern United States. The percentage of Latino families in Harris County is twice that of the national average at over 40 percent. Unfortunately, a large portion of the Latino sector in Harris County overlaps with the statistic that nearly 6 of every 10 public school students in Houston struggle with poverty. Many Harris County school districts haven’t caught up with the specific needs of Latin American children living in poverty.
Many students like Gabriel face issues of race and poverty unimaginable to the middle-class, white six year old I was fifteen years ago. It is not uncommon for Houston teachers to have students whose parents speak little or no English. Or to have students whose parents are facing deportation. The families of some underprivileged, Latin American students cannot afford basic school supplies because their parents are unable to acquire steady work opportunities.
To me, it’s not surprising that Houston schools continue to struggle with providing appropriate resources specifically for poor, Latin American families. Texas schools as a whole are well below the average in their ability to recognize and rectify economic disadvantage among its students. In addition, most parts of Houston (aside from Houston-proper) have only recently seen a spike in economic disadvantage among public school students. For example, in 2002, Spring ISD, a district in a northern suburb of Houston had just fewer than 44 percent of students considered economically disadvantaged. Today, that number is figure is more than 72 percent.
Hispanic, economically disadvantaged children face educational hurdles unbeknownst to many of their peers. Clear Creek ISD, another suburban school district in southeast Houston, is working to institute a full-day pre-Kindergarten program for “eligible pupils.” Currently, students must qualify to attend half-day pre-K programs through ethnic and economic variables. Pre-K programs are meant to give at-risk students a head start in developing their academic groundwork. Full-day pre-K programs will allow young, disadvantaged children an even greater benefit at they begin their academic journey (Franklin, 2015). CCISD and other Houston school districts hoping to institute this program can make a monumental difference in educating children and providing a better life for them and their families. However, these resources are certainly not the norm in many Houston-area school districts.
As a white girl who grew up in Houston, I never thought very deeply about ethnic or economic disadvantage before facing the beast head on with my brother and his family. I look at Gabriel and see my nephew. I see a smiling six-year-old boy who wants to save the world. But I also see a boy who lives in a society where the odds are stacked against him.
When Gabriel goes to school, he receives free lunch. He and all his brothers were allowed to attend an excellent public pre-K program at no cost. In his school district, there is a counselor equipped with resources for parents who need assistance with providing clothing, food, or school supplies for their children. The upper-middle class area is flush with charities and churches ready to assist Gabriel and his parents. He is receiving what he needs to overcome the expectations society has imposed upon him based on his appearance and background. I only hope the rest of the city can follow suit, and provide the best education possible for kids like Gabriel.
