Sad stories often start with silence.
The level of pain recalled by a memory is only hinted at: a sideways turn of the head, downturned eyes or clasped hands. There are no words.
Sad stories are, inherently, about the past. Things that happened. Dark things. Mean things. Frightening things. Sometimes terrible things.
Jessie Taylor, 25, and Megan Hearn, 15, are daughters of the same mother. Their mother is not in the picture. Their respective fathers are not even in the conversation.
Their history is not something they want to talk much about, not their parents, nor the brother and sister who fall between them in age. Their family today is the two of them, and that’s what they’re focusing on.
Laura McDowell works with homeless students on behalf of St. Clair County RESA and the county’s local school districts. She met Jessie and Megan when Jessie approached her for help. McDowell has talked to them numerous times, but doesn’t know anything but the barest of snippets about how they came to where they are today.
That’s not uncommon for McDowell, who has helped hundreds of young people in precarious living situations in her more than 10 years on the job at RESA.
“Sometimes,” McDowell said, “all you need to know is in what they don’t say.”
September, 2014: Megan Hearn wasn’t sure what to do. Details, as always, are few, but this is certain: The summer of 2014 had been difficult. Megan was no longer living with her mother. An older cousin had guardianship, but living there wasn’t working out. Although the world was told she was being home-schooled, the reality was that Megan spent what should have been her 7th- and 8th-grade years educating herself as best she could.
She called her sister. “Hey Jess,” Megan remembers saying, “can I live with you?” Jessie didn’t hesitate. “We needed each other,” Jessie said. Again, no elaboration, no details. But what wasn’t said in fact said a lot.
Jessie was making her own way in the world. At the time, she was finishing up her culinary degree at Baker College in Port Huron. She hadn’t counted on taking time for trips to the St. Clair County Courthouse to get official guardianship of her sister.
Jessie was living in a small apartment near downtown Port Huron. Megan was determined to go to high school in Marysville. Because Megan lived in one district and wanted to attend another, she would have to provide her own transportation.
Jessie didn’t have a car. The approximately 10 miles between her apartment and Marysville High School might as well have been 100 miles. Jessie first considered friends who could be counted on to give Megan a ride every day, but that didn’t work.
Jessie then turned to Blue Water Transit, the local public bus system. Jessie rode with Megan that first day, figuring out the trip. The result: two buses, three routes, about 45 minutes door-to-door.
Another obstacle quickly arose. The bus ride would cost about $20 a week. “We were never going to be able to afford that,” Jessie said quietly.
The young women had picked up a Teen Help Card sponsored by the county’s Community Services Coordinating Body. It listed phone numbers of community agencies that offered the possibility of help. Jessie started calling. The card was a few years old, and some of the numbers no longer worked. In other cases, the help the agency offered didn’t include bus fare.
One of those agencies, however, referred Jessie to RESA. She didn’t know who or what to ask for. A shot in the dark.
RESA does not have an automated phone-answering system during the work day. During the day, a receptionist directs all calls that come in to (810) 364-8990, the RESA main number. It isn’t a luxury; inquiries can range from truancy to welding classes to Special Olympics and dozens of other programs and services offered by RESA.
Jessie explained her situation. She was transferred to Laura McDowell.
Federal law requires local school districts to make provisions for the education of homeless students, defined as young people who lack a regular, fixed and adequate overnight residence. McDowell works for RESA as the liaison between homeless students and the local districts.
Megan qualified for help under the federal McKinney-Vento law covering homeless students. A key provision under McKinney-Vento is providing student transportation for up to six months, McDowell explained.
Jessie recalled hanging up from that conversation. McDowell hadn’t promised anything except hope. At that point, that’s all Jessie needed. “I remember feeling so much relief that somebody possibly had a solution to help me help her,” she said, referring to Megan.
As soon as Jessie finished her degree program at Baker in December, she got busy finding a new apartment for the two of them. They now live on the border between Port Huron and Marysville. Megan just has to walk across the street to catch a Marysville school bus. They have friends nearby. The Blue Water Transit driver who took Megan to school every day still asks after her.
McDowell wrote a referral to Kids in Distress, a community agency that offers clothing and other items to young people in need. McDowell also gave Megan a $25 coupon, underwritten by community donations, to buy new shoes.
At Christmas, Jessie and Megan were among a number of families chosen from among McDowell’s clients to receive a Christmas basket paid for by contributions from RESA employees.
In Megan’s basket this past Christmas was a fleece “Hello Kitty” blanket, something she wears draped over her shoulders much of her time at home. It’s cute, warm and all hers.
Amazingly, even though she was on her own for most of her middle school years, Megan kept up with her studies pretty well. Her report card from her freshman year at Marysville High is something most anyone would be proud of. Jessie keeps it on display and is quick to show it to visitors.
There are many hurdles ahead. Jessie wants to provide for Megan, but money is tight. Still, the two are optimistic. Jessie’s long-term goal is to own a bed-and-breakfast where she could show off her culinary skills and her innately caring nature.
Megan, who turns 16 in December, has thought about her options, which include photography and the Air Force. She’d also like to go to college. One thing she says she is adamant about is not getting into trouble. She has dreams, after all, and she’s happy to talk about them.
Jessie and Megan were born 10 years and two weeks apart. As Jessie said, “No one expects to raise their sibling,” but she didn’t hesitate to step in.
McDowell continues to be a part of their lives. She checks in with them periodically, even though their formal connection with her RESA program has ended.
Jessie said those conversations with McDowell are important to her: “It’s good to have someone who understands.”
What Jessie left unsaid speaks volumes.
This article was originally published in St. Clair County RESA's What we do.