The Visit

It had been thirty-five years. Thirty-five long yearsstudent. She was saying, "Now Mrs. Sanders is going
since I last walked into my former school, Ameliato help Earhart build a library.... What do we say to
Earhart Elementary on the south side of Chicago. Theher?" I don't know what I'm getting myself into, I
school that nurtured my hopes and dreams. Thethought, but somehow, we'll make this a reality. The
school that taught me to reach for the stars. Thechildren looked up at me, bright-eyed and smiling.
small school that couldn't afford a music teacher or a"Thank you!" they answered, beaming at me. I
library, but had served as a friendly, protectivelooked at all the glowing faces with their neat school
environment during my younger years. That wasuniforms, and could feel the pride shining from their
before we left for the sassy, arrogant, aloofeyes. This was a place where they felt appreciated.
eighth-grade crowd at Northwood Junior High inUnderstood. Cared for. "Thank YOU!" I said to them,
Highland Park.moving on to the next room. Respect was a tangible
And yet, here I was - driving one and a half hours inpart of the atmosphere at Earhart... from the
early morning traffic - to see the principal, Patricia"Children of the Week" photos by the office bulletin
Walsh, and offer my services to help Earhart createboard to writing assignments showcased on the
a library for the first time. Earhart is now a K-8thhallway walls.
grade school, instead of a K-6th school as it was inThe hallway was longer than I remembered. An
my time. I had just read about Earhart Elementary inaddition had been put on almost ten years ago, so
a recent Chicago Tribune magazine section because itmore grade levels could be added. My school now
represented a success story, with some of thehoused almost 300 children up to the eighth grade.
highest test scores of all Chicago public schools. Yet itThe halls were built too narrowly, so lockers couldn't
operates without a basic library!be installed. The gym also wasn't build to proper size
I read the story and thought, 'this was MY school.'specifications, so there are no basketball competitions
How could I stand by and not do anything? Oneat Earhart. Even the window ledges in the new
would think a school would automatically have aclassrooms were made improperly - jutting out too
library, just as you'd expect to find bathrooms infar, which makes it extremely hard to open windows.
every school. But school libraries aren't inherent inStill, the school brings out the best in students. With
Chicago schools. What could be done? I had to callthe concerted teamwork of the administration,
and find out.teachers and parents, the children are making exciting
Driving into the parking lot, I recognized the back ofprogress. It's time to do more... and get funds for a
the school building, the large asphalt parking lot - oncelibrary, I resolved to myself. The Board of Education
almost entirely our playground - and the modestwon't help. I wrote to them, and they politely
homes nearby. Surprisingly, I found myself blinkingexplained that other priorities are more important
away tears. A surge of happy memories flooded mythan this library. But maybe I could round up some
mind. Double-dutch jump-roping. Long-lastingformer Earhart alums. And maybe some businesses in
friendships. My first crush. Poetry readings in class.the area might be willing to contribute and be
Singing in class with a teacher strumming theawarded a plaque in the library for their donation.
autoharp. I remembered the route I took back andChicago schools have physical problems that must be
forth to school.addressed first. Yet, one would think that with a
I walked toward the front door, now locked forhighly rated school, it would get some consideration in
security purposes, and the tears were threatening tolight of its achievements.
flow. I was buzzed inside, and greeted by a tall,I've learned that school politics don't work that way.
friendly male guard, who opened the door for meThe word is out in ourcommunity, and we've been
and led me toward the principal's office. My feetgathering used books. Children's books on any
automatically knew the way. The kindergarten roomtopickindergarten through eighth grade -- are always
to the left. The large former gym to the right. Andwelcome. Together, with enough handand caring
there it was -- the principal's office. Tears startedhearts, I believe we can do whatever we set out to
suddenly flowing down my cheeks and my voicedo.
suddenly left me. I was speechless. As Patricia WalshJust like my hero, Amelia Earhart, who went after
came from her office, I managed to choke out aher dreams, I know Earhart can achieve its goals, no
"hello," while extending my hand in greeting.matter how tough they seem. Earhart Elementary
It was a wonderful homecoming. Miss Walsh wasSchool has a goal to support our future... to help the
genuinely kind and delightful. She showed me fromchildren of today become the leaders of tomorrow.
room to room, introducing me as a former EarhartWe can't let them down.