Reading, writing, and a roof overhead
A Missouri school district steps up to provide housing for four homeless high school boys.
from the February 1, 2007 edition

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"I've never lived in a house before," Mike says, just a few weeks into his experience with houseparents Dan and Alyssa Reeve and their baby son, Carter. (Mike is a pseudonym, used at the request of school officials.) A sophomore at the nearby high school, he needs a place to live because his mother has had trouble providing a stable home. She gave consent for him to move in this January. "I was in a place of, like, no hope at all.... It was like a beam from heaven when I saw the brochure," he says.
Instead of being distracted from schoolwork by the issues his mom is facing, Mike is now enjoying the Reeves' guidance. "We do a homework check just about every day, and [Dan] is a teacher, so if I were to ask him for help, he would give it to me," Mike says. Maybe in exchange for changing some diapers, jokes Mr. Reeve, a middle school teacher in the same building where Mike attends high school.
The appliances are still a novelty – like the washing machine, where Mike has washed all his clothes, right down to his shoelaces. "The stuff here just helps me live better, grow better, do everything better. It may seem like a little thing ... but I've never had free laundry before – that's a big thing for me," he says.
The Joe's Place board selected the Reeves as houseparents after interviewing a number of couples and a single candidate. As members of Crossroads Presbyterian, the Reeves had been looking for ways to be more involved in the community.
"Being a teacher, you see there are some things you can't fix in the classroom – you have to go out of that context to be able to meet certain needs," Mr. Reeve says. So far, they appear to have set up a good rhythm. Mike does at least 90 minutes of homework every day. He cleans his own room and takes care of the dishes after dinner. On breaks, he plays his electronic keyboard or plays video games with Mrs. Reeve. And they're all kept busy and entertained by the fuzzy-haired Carter.
The Reeves told Mike to treat Carter like a brother or a cousin, which is new to Mike because he hasn't had family experiences with anyone but his mom. "We want to show [Mike] the respect as if he was our son ... and he has shown us nothing but that type of respect back," Mr. Reeve says.
As more residents move in, they plan to break out the calendar every Sunday to make a master schedule for the week. But the Reeves aren't going to be dealing with four teenage boys on their own. A group of board members and volunteers has been setting up additional support, whether it's counseling or donated meals. The challenge is "to structure it in a way that is ... programmatically sound without institutionalizing the place," says Vince Estrada, the district's director of student services.
A stable home will give the teens an opportunity to focus on future plans, Mr. Estrada says. "They all have dreams. The key is ... do they see a path for those dreams?"
So far, Mike says he knows good grades are the key to meeting future goals. He'd like to take a year off between high school and college "to travel and eat chili," he says with a relaxed smile.
Before the district can respond to calls asking for tips about how to replicate the program, they're concentrating on success on a small scale. "If for some reason a student does not succeed in school, that's going to be a challenge for us," acknowledges Chris Fisher, the part-time director of the nonprofit and an assistant pastor at Crossroads. If the effort does pan out the way they hope it will, they're giving thought to possibly opening a home for girls or other homes for boys in nearby districts.
But there's one tip that all participants can offer: collaborate. Joe's Place couldn't have happened without the interior decorator who collected furnishings to fill the sunny home. Or the local churches that have offered to keep the house supplied with paper products and breakfast cereal. It couldn't have happened without teachers who donated $6,000, and members of the public who mailed in checks.
"What really stands out to me ... is the commitment that every person in a community matters," Vander Maas says. "So often we just stay in our own zones. But when we join arms and work with a common goal, there's a lot of things that can happen."
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