A Life Saved in the Classroom

I knew that keeping schools closed would endanger the most vulnerable kids, and sadly I was right. By Lea Munoz Steele

In fall 2020, as school reopening was still in jeopardy in places like New York and California, open schools group were just starting to form on social media. We found solace and empowerment in these groups, where we connected with likeminded parents, teachers, and advocates who were fighting to reopen schools and restore normalcy for our nation’s children. One of the most impassioned voices was that of Lea Munoz Steele, herself an abuse survivor, who, in a Facebook group, shared a story about a child she encountered twenty-five years earlier, when she was a young public school teacher. Lea’s story stayed with us, as we hope it will with you.

Looking to the future, our resolve to keep schools open must remain impervious to the push to online school, an ever-present threat. In this recollection, Lea explains the story of her own advocacy and awakening. We would love to hear yours, too. You can always reach us on Twitter and via email: restorechildhoodinc@gmail.com.

-Natalya & Dana

Even though it happened twenty-five years ago, I remember it as if it was today.

Sean*, an eleven-year-old boy, walked into my classroom and changed both of our lives forever.  As a young, inexperienced new teacher, my “Spidey” senses alerted me whenever Sean’s stepmother was around. I was drawn to their interactions. She hovered like a hawk around her stepson.  He cowered. His eyes looked down.

Sean had shared with me that his biological mother had died when he was eight, leaving him and his younger brother. Sean’s stepmother looked after the boys, while his navy officer dad was on duty in the Pacific. Even though Sean was shy and soft-spoken, we quickly developed a warm rapport. 

At the school, I also served as the activity director in charge of the snack bar items stored in my classroom.  One day a student told me he had witnessed Sean sneaking items from the snack closet. I thought about how best to approach Sean.

Clearly, guns blazing was not it. 

The next day, I asked Sean to help me arrange the snack bar. Working together, we were both busy and distracted.  I told Sean about what I had heard. I assured him he wasn’t in trouble; I was just concerned. He became nervous and flushed. I encouraged him to write down his story, as it was clearly difficult to talk about. Sean walked away and a short while later, returned with his journal. My hands shook as I began to read. 

Sean wrote that, upon arriving home from school, his stepmother would strip the boys and lock them in the bathroom. She wouldn’t feed them dinner or allow them to sleep in their beds. If they complained or made noise, she beat them with a belt.

The last lines of his journal entry read, “I’m so sorry, it’s just we’re hungry.”

Fighting back tears I gave him a hug. I explained that, as a teacher, I was a mandated reporter, bound by law to report his story to the vice principal. It wasn’t safe for the boys to remain with their stepmother.

Following an investigation by Child Protective Services, police arrested Sean’s stepmother and the boys moved out of state to live with their paternal grandparents.

Sean sent me Mother’s Day cards for several years. 

I often imagine Sean and his brother “going to” school in California during late 2020 and most of 2021, on Zoom, without a teacher to keep watch and have their backs. School closures are not fun or safe for children like Sean. They set the trajectory for the rest of their lives. 

The science is clear: There’s a tragic tradeoff to keeping our schools closed. Mental health crises – including domestic abuse and youth suicide – are skyrocketing.

What keeps me awake at night are lost opportunities to help these endangered kids, provide a safe space amid chaos. School, and the caring people inside them, are often a life raft, and I don’t mean metaphorically. 

Whom have we missed with schools locked down? Who has been tossed in the waves and not resurfaced? Kids like Sean are out there in the thousands and they need every advocate they can find.

Studies definitively show schools can and should have reopened. People like American Federation of Teachers President Randi Weingarten and California Teachers Association President E. Toby Boyd have stood on the necks of kids like Sean in the quest for power and status. It is unconscionable. 

I don’t share this story lightly.

In fact, I’ve never talked about it, feeling it wasn’t my story to tell. But knowing what is still at stake, and more than all the teachers, scientists, parents, union leaders and politicians, I know Sean knows the deal.

I am committed to full time school, five-days-a-week. And I don’t mean on Zoom. I mean in the classroom together with my students. And I advocate not just for my own sons, Jack and Colton, who are guaranteed classroom instruction by the California Constitution, but for students like Sean*.

Lea Munoz-Steele is a Bilingual-Certified “Exceptional Educator” award-winning KSEE 24 teacher and a Youth Sports Coach who lives with her husband and two school-aged sons in Fowler, California. She has been a teacher for 28 years.

*Sean is a fictitious name to protect the student’s identity.