Editor’s Note: This is the first in a series of stories on how Jesuit ministries are building community and confronting what a U.S. surgeon general called our “epidemic of loneliness.”
The middle schoolers — about 30 of them — had brought their books to school on a Saturday morning. They were there to get help with homework, but that wasn’t the main draw, and it certainly wasn’t the reason the session filled up and couldn’t accommodate all the kids who wanted to attend.
No, it was the pumpkins. And probably the pizza, too.
“How cool is this, boys — 12 or 13 years old — who are happy to come to school on a Saturday to paint pumpkins and do something very innocent?” says James Kennedy, president of Brooklyn Jesuit Prep (BJP), recalling some of the kids who took part in a Saturday session last fall. “All this narrative about kids being disengaged, and this was something so pure. A sign of why this is so valuable. It lets kids be kids and be together.”
They don’t have to wear their uniforms on Saturdays, and they can’t bring cell phones; school days, too, are cell-free zones. Kennedy notes that their students, who come from low-income families throughout Brooklyn, don’t particularly resemble their suburban peers, racing from practices to playdates all weekend.
“Our families generally don’t have the time or the ability to be doing that with their kids,” Kennedy says. “We don’t want them at home, just playing video games and texting. We want them to be with one another and to get some exercise.”
BJP was founded in 2003 in the Nativity model of an extended school day. The doors open at 7:30 each morning; breakfast and lunch are provided, as are scholastic and tuition support. While emphasizing rigorous academics, character formation and care for the whole person, the school prepares its roughly 100 5th through 8th graders for both higher education and life.
All of their kids go to high school and college, Kennedy points out, and they receive social and emotional support from faculty and staff the whole way, far beyond middle school.
The Saturday programs — held about five times each school year — are another way of serving their students and providing opportunities for positive and constructive engagement after hours.
More Connected
The programs are intentionally held “in real life” instead of online. In their digital lives, Kennedy says, kids are “more connected than ever, but the quality of that connection is worse than ever,” often leading to hurtful behavior they would never engage in in person, behavior that can isolate and create a sense of loneliness.
That, as much as the additional academic support, is the crux of the Saturday program, begun when BJP occupied its first building, the former St. Teresa of Avila School in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. There, kids did homework while their parents worked on projects around the building.
Today, at the East Flatbush campus they’ve occupied for five years, the Saturday sessions combine study with a seasonal activity – Christmas fun in December, Valentine’s Day cards in February, a park or museum outing in the spring. And the program has evolved, now drawing on BJP alumni and local alumni of Villanova, Fairfield and St. John’s Universities, among others — instead of parents — to assist the teachers or staff.
Moving away from the previous model, says Gloria Rivera, associate director of development, frees up parents’ time and exposes the students to more caring adults outside of those they meet at school or through their families.
“If you put them in a space where they feel listened to, they feel more connected to the people around them. It allows them to be more connected to one another outside of the phone.”
— Gloria Rivera, Associate Director of Development, Brooklyn Jesuit Prep
Rivera organizes the Saturday volunteers and frequently attends the sessions, as does Kennedy. The students are usually spread over two classrooms, to make it more manageable for volunteers, and then come back together for lunch before being set free for the afternoon.
“The main thing with our kids is they really like to be together,” Rivera says, noting they typically have to turn away five to 10 kids, to keep the group to a reasonable size. “It’s hard to convince a kid to put their phone or technology down in general. But I have not heard complaints about it. They really do just come in and are a part of it.”
She adds with a laugh, “They’ll tell you how they feel [about an activity]. They’re very vocal about it.”
In a previous job, working at a high school, Rivera saw firsthand how cell phones alter communication among young people and warp the way they perceive their connections to one another. With younger, middle school-aged kids — whom she calls, for lack of a better term, “more malleable” — getting them together on Saturdays is an important opportunity to engage with them outside the classroom.
“If you put them in a space where they feel listened to, they feel more connected to the people around them,” she says. “It allows them to be more connected to one another outside of the phone.”
A Transformative Experience
The school has a full-time counselor, Maryellen Doino, who sees students one-on-one and in weekly skills classes. How to stay safe online, suicide awareness and anti-bullying are among the topics she covers in the classroom.
Asked if she sees much evidence of loneliness in her students, Doino says it manifests more as children who just don’t seem to fit in or who isolate themselves — which, counterintuitively, is usually an attempt to draw attention to themselves, she says. She likes the Saturday programs because they really bring out the “kid” in their students.
“When I first heard about it, I thought, why would they want to be here? What kid wants to do that?” recalls Doino, who is in her fifth year as counselor at BJP.
But then she watched them cutting up with their friends, swinging on swings, painting pumpkins.
“Some don’t get that at home. Their parents are always working,” she says. “This gives them more time with their friends. Unlike other schools, our kids are so spread out, they don’t necessarily live near each other. It’s just more human contact.”
Doino also supervises the three-week leadership camp held every summer on Fairfield University’s campus in Connecticut. Except for incoming 5th graders, all students are expected to attend. Again, it’s a cell phone-free environment, with no screen time, except for phone calls or emails to their parents on Sundays.
For many of the kids, it’s their first time away from home, and maybe even their first time out of the city. Each child shares a room with a roommate, and they must work together to keep it tidy. Everyone adheres to a schedule, going to bed at a reasonable hour and eating three meals a day, something not all of them get at home, says Doino, noting that parents see a real difference in behavior when the three weeks are over.
“I think camp is a transformative experience when it comes to bonding. It lets kids be kids and be together,” says Kennedy, who notes that everything is extended at BJP — camp, before and after care, study hall, and yes, weekends.
“We want to maximize the amount of time we have with them, and we want to help families, too,” he says. “We have to turn kids away [on Saturdays]. That’s a huge statement of how valuable it is.”
Photos via Brooklyn Jesuit Prep
