Expectations

Husband and I were driving through some mixed-income housing yesterday and pondering how to get our tenants down in another city to take care of the yard.  So how does the government take care of this housing?  It looked pretty nice.  There were businesses on the ground floor, and condos above.  Central play areas, bus stops and a nearby school made it attractive.  But then it was rather new and there was probably a gardener.

A lot of what we plant at our rental in the way of landscaping dies in the summer due to lack of water.  The front yard was knee-high in dandelions and weeds, the back had turned into dirt and a few hardy conifers. 

With presidential race huffing along to the finish line, candidate Mitt Romney made a statement that 47% of America expects the government to help them out.  Husband and I continued on our drive, talking about these expectations, as well as our expectations of tenants’ desire for a pretty place to live, and their expectations of what they could do. They seemed worlds apart. 

Just yesterday in the mail I got a newsletter from a school for Native Americans that I donate to from time to time, St Labre in Montana.  I’ve watched them grow for the past 15 years, and was quite impressed with the accomplishments of recent students.  It doesn’t seem that long ago that every newsletter I got was pleading for help to overcome poverty and alcoholism.  Those problems still exist, to be sure, but the news coming from the school now is about eye-popping successes. 

There are probably lots of reasons for this, but to me what really stands out was a letter to the school’s director years ago.  It decried the constant plea for money and was disenchanted that nothing ever seemed to get better.  The writer of the letter said he felt like he was flinging his money down a hole.

St. Labre listened.  They began featuring the successes of the students.  Not long after the letter, we heard about 3 high school girls who designed a project for making houses out of hay bales that won a contest and got them a trip to Washington, DC.  I started reading in the school’s newsletter about their high school graduates and the colleges they attended. They featured a young alumnus who became a nurse and returned to serve the area, students who won art contests, and spotlighting successful students and their dreams.

Expectations rose.  College entrance exam scores became impressive enough that Ivy Leagues were interested.  This year, the entire high school graduating class headed off to college.  Every single one. High school alumni are attending MIT, Harvard, Stanford, Mount St. Mary’s and Dartmouth, as well as state universities and a prestigious pharmacy school in Minnesota.  For the last six years, three St. Labre alumni have completed degrees at Dartmouth, which is a 100% graduation rate from one of the most prestigious colleges in the nation, including young Velma, who lost both her parents in separate car accidents in the span of fourteen months during her college years.

In spite of a forest fire this summer that nearly burned St. Labre down, local poverty and other challenges, why is this school able to turn out such successful young men and women?  The newsletter, The Morning Star, says: “Teachers expect the very best from their students and students expect the same from the teachers.” They also credit their donors from believing in the students and faculty.

Expectations.

Our daughter, the teacher, has had a lot of success in expecting her students to succeed.  She teaches at a school near the low income housing we were driving through, and many of her students come from a challenging background.  She believes they deserve every chance to succeed and that they CAN.  Her school’s test scores were second in the district recently, nearly opposite on the scale of income.

These times seem so full of expectation for our family.  One daughter is expecting twins, one is waiting to head off to Army Officer Candidate School and begin her career.  I hope that the alchemy of expectation will infuse them with success.  With belief in infinite possibilities, what might they accomplish?

Go, baby, go!