As is typical in high school, I spent my summer in summer school. However, I did not spend three to six hours a day listening to a teacher lecture at me while I sit writing so fast my hand hurts in an attempt to capture the words verbatim. Instead I did the teaching, or at least aided in the teaching.

Two summers ago I entered Lexington Elementary School along with six Duke University students, one of whom was my brother. I decided to volunteer for the first year of his non-profit program, Education Exchange Corps, sponsored by Duke University through their program Duke Engage. It took place in St. Louis for six-weeks from June to July.

The first day I went to Lexington no students were around, we were to be given a tour and meet the summer staff. First, we entered the teacher’s lounge, greeted by a group of women who were preparing a going away party for one of their co-workers. This co-worker happened to be a volunteer for Teach for America. She was young, close in age to the other volunteers who hovered in the lounge, but she looked dead tired. She only seemed to represent the fatigue we would feel once our six-week program was up.

And we did experience such fatigue accompanied by frustration, helplessness, and few glimmers of hope. From 8 a.m. until 2 p.m. we acted as teacher assistants in the classrooms we were assigned. I was placed in the third grade room (for students entering fourth grade in the fall), which turned out to be one of the largest classes. It was difficult, and it never got any easier.

Discipline, discipline, discipline. It seemed to be the main part of my day. The amount of time taken out in the day for discipline was tremendous. Two of my students were even suspended from the program because they were play fighting. And since “play fighting leads to real fighting”, according to the main rules of the school, those caught were to be sent home.

I was reluctant to reveal what I saw to the third grade teacher, who furiously glared at the boys almost eager to send them home. Both boys needed to be there; they needed the extra time to work on academics. Yet, the teacher often yelled or spoke angrily that she was not there to babysit, and thus she sent them home. This was one of the low points during the program.

Frustration, helplessness, and fatigue are all results from a long day monitoring 9 and 10-year-olds who cannot sit still for over five minutes. But the overwhelming feelings occurred when I began to question the effectiveness of my presence. I thought, coming into the program that I would be useful and would be able to change the lives of those students attending Lexington.

But, as each day progressed and the weeks began to pass, I, along with five of the Duke volunteers piled into my brother’s minivan, exhausted and wondering how I have made an impact. And each day I had no answer; nothing came to mind. I felt like the students were not learning anything new, spending most of the day playing games, attempting to write sentences in their journals for two hours of the day, and listening to their teacher lecture at them through a math lesson.

And then there were the few glimmers of hope. The first occurred early in the program. In the morning the students were assigned a drawing which showed the things they like to do and then write a sentence about it.

A discipline problem occurred; one student would not share his markers with another. This boy, Quentin, who was not being given the red marker to color in his picture got upset and began to cry. He said he hated summer school and did not want to be there. I spoke with him to calm him down and then told them to share and sat down to color with them.

Things turned around quickly and the boys began to share and enjoy the activity a little bit more once I started to participate. I made pictures for the boys and they made some for me. Then, Quentin asked to go to the bathroom and we exited the classroom making our way down the long hallway of empty rooms and school chairs. Quentin smiled and skipped excitedly exclaiming, “I think I’m going to like summer school this year.”

Being able to turn his hatred around so that he might enjoy his time in school was reason enough for spending six weeks frustrated, helpless, and fatigued.

Then there was Sam. Sam was the trouble maker found in most classrooms, testing and pushing the limits each chance he was given. Thankfully, he was not sent home, though many phone calls were made. Sam was smart and eager to learn more, particularly in math. Since he caused so much trouble in the class, he sat in a desk separated from his classmates. Because of this, during breaks in a few lessons Sam and I spoke and eventually I felt like I was teaching. He surpassed the other students in math, and I taught him long division, giving him worksheets to do outside of class if he could.

I then decided to gather those few students who were not being challenged mathematically and to set up a sort of enrichment program. We got a few worksheets done together, but we were only able to come together a few days in the six weeks. I was only able to begin what could have been a great opportunity to teach and challenge the students.

The days were difficult and the rewards were few. But I wondered how would the students’ summer school experience have been different had I not been there. Despite questioning the impact of my presence I decided to volunteer again the next summer, 2009. The answer to the question was much clearer after those six weeks.

I spent the summer in Stix Early Childhood Center, a much more well off inner-city school in comparison to Lexington. This time I was assigned to one of the first grade classes.

The days were exhausting, possibly more so than those at Lexington. Instead of finding many times in the day where the students were occupied without the need of my aid or supervision, I was constantly being called from one table of students to the next. I could hear my name coming from four different voices at a time, asking me to help them sound out a word or explain the assignment. I was thankful for the times the teacher gathered the students for a lesson, it meant a break from the questions for a few moments. Yet, it was for those many voices that I came to Stix.

By the time their summer school was over the students were sounding out words on their own, attempting and coming close to, if not, the right spelling of the words. They were able to write in their daily journal with fewer questions.

Many students were able to make those small steps in summer school and had I not been there, how could their teacher have maneuvered between the 15 students all requesting her help without breaking down and getting nothing done? I’m not sure if it could have happened. Perhaps, many of their questions would have been ignored. Perhaps, because of the size of the class, some of the children would not have been able to make the progress they had. This held true even when I was there to assist. Certain students needed more help than others, one not even knowing the sounds each of the letters of the alphabet made, but because of his resistance and because of the five other voices calling my name I could not sit down and take the time to help him. So, I recognized my impact, but I also realized how much more needs to be done than just a six-week summer school program.

More time needs to be spent on the individuals, to identify the students’ needs and not allow them to slip even farther behind. The only way a first grader can move on without knowing the alphabet is if he is overlooked and this can be done easily when there are 19 other students to attend to.

The students in both programs, at Lexington and Stix, came from a variety of schools. Thus, the spectrum of abilities was immense, from students who could not identify the sounds of the letters to those who could write sentences and sound out words on their own.

I do not know what the school year is like for the students, but either way more attention needs to be put on the summer programs. Although I may have disagreed with some of Lexington’s third grade teachers methods, I do agree that summer school is not meant for babysitting.

If more people volunteer then those children who struggle can receive more help, so that they may not continue to fall behind even more. One person can make a small impact, but a group of volunteers can make one even larger.