Since You Live in Berkeley And You Think You Know Everything…
By: Lynda Otero
My second year of undergrad I was so excited to get out into the larger Berkeley community. As a part of the Public Service Center on campus, I was assigned to serve Berkeley High’s Multilingual Program. I heard so many great things about the school, their resources, and their alumni success stories. From the moment I stepped on campus, I could see the history held in the walls of the classrooms.
I was thrown in the deep end of working with children, not being given teachers' contacts or any instructions about my expected role in the classroom. This was not the fault of anyone at the school, especially given that everyone was expected to juggle three different titles to accommodate the lack of staffing within the Multilingual Program. I learned that the students were missing teachers for their core subjects and the ones that they did have were just as lost as I was. Most teachers in the program were a last minute addition, with no prior experience in working with English learners or even knowing a second language. Quickly, I adjusted to the constant shifting of teachers and long term substitutes.
Eventually, I became one of the only consistent adults these students saw in school. I saw them, at most, three times a week. I learned their routines, how everyone learned best, and the best prizes to incentivize their engagement. Everyday that I was there was a huge relief for the teachers, who never missed an opportunity to tell me how grateful they were for the volunteers that showed up. They relied heavily on the volunteers to support them, from translation to building curriculum, because they had no other resources. I was asked to stay another year, but the program that led me to the school was also facing budget cuts. Being a student myself, I could not continue my service and my studies without the funding that had supported me.
The teachers were truly mentors to me, but they encouraged me to look for employment in a different industry. Despite all the love they have for their profession, teaching is hard and requires massive sacrifice given the lack of resources put towards it. All the teachers I worked with could not afford to live in the area they taught in, and commuted from all over the East Bay to serve the students at Berkeley High. All of the teachers in the program had to share a classroom, preventing them from being able to do basic community building activities like decorating. Multilingual students do not see themselves reflected even in the walls of the classroom they learn in, the classrooms are only designed to cater to mainstream students. At the end of my time there, the heart of the program, their Program Coordinator, decided that they needed to move on. They were an alumni of the program, someone the students could relate to, and a safe space on campus, with many students choosing to spend the lunch period in their office. The workload they were assigned was unsustainable and unfair. They were done with the empty promises of the administrators that said they were going to add more reliable staff and funding to the program.
These teachers and staff needed more funding to better care for themselves in order to be able to better care for their students. The community that surrounds the school prides itself on their inclusive ideals, yet these students cannot find the resources they need in the classroom. The university’s presence is ever looming, with the best in their fields, but across the street teachers cannot afford to give every student their own textbook. It is within our grasp to fund and support our teachers. In fact, it is our responsibility to take action. By reforming Prop. 13, we could restore $17 billion to our public schools every year. We could support our teachers and equitably help students succeed. Don’t tell us about how you support the public schools in your community, show us!