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CIS Palm Beach County News
Looking Back While Looking Forward: CIS Summer 2010
SOURCE Communities In Schools Palm Beach County
September 2010
The little office of Communities In Schools of Palm Beach County looked a lot like the Wal-Mart “back to
school” aisles just weeks ago. Through the thick heat of a South Florida summer, the organization’s Student
Achievement Specialists drove to and from schools dropping off book bags of supplies and uniform shirts to
some of the county’s most at-risk and most in-need students. So with the 2010-2011 school year in full swing,
let’s look back at a Communities In Schools of Palm Beach County (CISPBC) summer that was equally as busy
and exciting.
It began with the ushering in of a new group of Bank of America Student Leaders to be CISPBC interns. These
students are some of the best in their respective classes: Grace Lee of Atlantic, Meagan McCarthy of Dreyfoos,
Karl Pischke of Dwyer, Alex Nicoleau of Suncoast and Christie Workman, Wellington Community High. Led by
our senior Student Achievement Specialist, Lisa Bolling, the students put their bright heads together and found
ways to serve the youth of the Palm Beach County community.
On several occasions, Pischke dressed up as a tiger as the other interns taught and performed songs for the
children at the Hispanic Human Resource Center, where they also put on a grand Fourth of July celebration
(parade included) to say Happy Birthday to the USA. They also served at Locks of Love, Lake Worth Salvation
Army Summer Camp Program, and Caring Kitchen, to name a few.
While the interns were busy sharing their time, CISPBC Student Achievement Specialists followed their lead.
North Grade Elementary School’s Library, which was to be closed all summer, was instead kept open for a
reading program, thanks to our very own Patsy Miller. In her words, Miller is “an educator with decades of
experience working in the library setting and instilling a lifelong love of learning and reading into her
students.”
Communities In Schools of Palm Beach County likes to use the summer to fulfill some of its staff’s personal
interests, which is why each was asked to go forth, create, and serve. Complementing the North Grade reading
program was a poetry club for middle and high school students at the Lake Worth Youth Empowerment
Center.
Student Achievement Specialist Samantha Ragland introduced the students to poetry, and its elements,
through popular music and lyrics. By the end of the summer, the students had written enough poems about
love, life, and loss to fill the pages of a book. And that they did; entitled The Same Education, but Different,
the collection of poems was designed and printed in the little office that packs a large load of helping hands.
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But the serving didn’t stop there. Haiti Project Coordinator Bobby Valcin divided his time between Forest Hill
High and Barton Elementary. He spent his hours working as a mentor and making sure that the community’s
Haitian students who have come here since the earthquake were situated and confident in the upcoming
school year. CISPBC also had hands at Pahokee Middle/Senior and Turning Points Academy.
Communities In School of Palm Beach County is kind of like the little office that could. Still, with an exciting
and successful summer behind them, CISPBC staff begin a new school year — so many young minds to help
shape, so many young lives to help change.
2010 Bank of America Student Leaders, Neighborhood Excellence Initiative Awards
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Meagan McCarthy - Locks of Love
Karl Pischke – 4th of July Parade at Hispanic
Human Resources
www.cispbc.org
Haiti, after 2010 earthquake
Christie Workman - Happy Birthday USA! Party
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The Same Education, but Different
A collection of student poems
Mr. Hungry
DeWayne "Dirty Laundry" Pierre
Sometimes I come in the morning,
sometimes I even come at night.
You can see me in the eyes of Haiti's
children, in its adults too.
They all try to ignore me,
but still, they know me well.
Everyone always wants me to leave,
no one every asks me to stay.
I'm tired of these usual smells--Fab, Tide, Clorox.
All I want is to explore other smells.
Honey suckle, hot wings, strawberries, vanilla.
They wealthy don't know who I am,
for they have never met me.
Just look at their satisfied bellies
and easily distracted eyes for proof.
The poor always write my name
in heavy black marker on a torn flap
of cardboard, and they get money
from strangers at the sight of me.
Some people cry when they feel
my nagging growl at the pit of
their stomachs, and full only of sorrow,
some even die if I stay too long.
I'm never wanted, not by anyone,
and when the people die, I'm simply gone.
By F. N.
www.cispbc.org
Break me out of this prison!
All I see all day is dirty clothes and stains--mud,
ketchup, bonding glue--and clothes being folded.
I want to see some action, kids playing,
hair being braided, faye cooking on the stove.
I've become a statue to this everyday routine.
Wake up at 9 a.m., get pressed, ironed, put away
at 8 p.m. I miss all the shows.
Sonny with a Chance, Hannah Montana, Chowder.
And oh the parties! The music.
Can I at least get some music?
Play the radio for me. Hip-hop, Lil' Weezy baby,
we be steady mobbin'. 102.3 cries out my name.
DeWayne "Dirty Laundry" Pierre.
I'm just piled up in this quiet, musky place,
worse than solitary confinement.
All I want is freedom from this prison of a basket.
By M. P.
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My Home, After
Standing outside
just watching my whole life fall apart.
Having no where to sleep
but a dirty sheet. Night or day
can't bring back the past. It can only
carry me further into an uncertain future.
Tents full of holes
and people I don’t know.
Sleeping with a hint of fear
in my heart.
Breathing the air makes me hate oxygen.
Garbage surrounds our tents
like a junk yard. The living as much
throw away trash as the dead. Damn.
I remember it like it was yesterday:
I owned a 5 bedroom house.
Now I sleep on the rough and rocky,
wet and muddy ground.
I lost my 3-year-old girl—
my one and only. Now I'm all alone
in the middle of a city, my city,
that got a makeover for the worst.
No roads, no lights, nothing but the people,
the exhausted but aggressive people.
I must be friendly.
Eating expired meat and spoiled milk
for about 4 months.
Disease and sickness slither into the
area like Satan into the garden of Eden.
We get sick often.
Still kids cry without their parents
to watch over them, and
they are starving, a hole in their tummies.
Everything changed around me-the people, our community,
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our land is shattered glass,
but one thing still stands
strong: Our blue cloudy sky.
whether we live in plastic houses
or sleep on rocky ground,
we will always stand tall and, as the sky above,
we will always stand tall together.
By J. P.
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