Liberty Lucky, age 3, struggled to talk when she started preschool several months ago.
She could ask for her dad, who had died of cancer, but otherwise had a hard time enunciating simple words.
Then, one day in February, she came home from school with a plastic flute and announced, “Oh, mommy, I got an instrument from the toy chest.”
Liberty Lucky was one of about a dozen preschoolers to graduate this week from the Therapeutic Childcare Center in downtown San Diego run by Father Joe’s Villages. Her family didn’t have a home until recently, making her and a sister two of the 950-plus homeless kids tallied countywide in January during the annual point-in-time count. That number almost certainly understates the problem.
Youth homelessness has become such an issue that many local schools have boosted services for both kids and families, including public institutions like Perkins K-8 in Barrio Logan and the nearby Monarch School, which exclusively serves unhoused students.
Part of Father Joe’s program is textbook preschool. There are Goldfish snacks and field trips to the Del Mar Fair. One parent, Somaye Jafari, who’s originally from Afghanistan, said she loved finding her son lost in a book whenever she picked him up.
But there’s also a therapist on site and enough staff to tailor activities for individual kids. “We’re just very thankful that the parents have entrusted us with their children after all the trauma that they’ve gone through,” said Alma Hutcherson, the program’s manager.
Thursday’s graduation took place in one of Father Joe’s assembly rooms. Around 20 parents and siblings filled in folding chairs as teachers lined up by a wall. When “Pomp and Circumstance” began playing, kids in long blue robes appeared at the back.
One boy waved as he strode toward the center aisle. Another child froze upon seeing TV cameras. They were followed by a kid that hopped and a girl, head covered in multi-colored hair clips, who needed a pair of teachers to escort her forward.
The graduates sat in small chairs facing the audience. As their ceremony got underway, the girl in hair clips left her seat and wandered into the crowd. An adult ushered her back.
A 5-year-old named Michael stepped forward to lead everyone in the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Oh pedge allegiance to da fwag,” Michael said, “uh the United States of America.” Other kids followed with varying success. Hair Clip Girl made another run for it.
About half the class will begin elementary school in the fall. Others were headed for transitional kindergarten, known as TK. They were still welcome at Father Joe’s throughout the summer, allowing parents to go to work or look for housing.
Amber Lucky sat in the second row. After spending more than two years in Father Joe’s facilities, she and her girls now had their own place in Chula Vista. She’d locked down a car, a 2011 Ford Taurus, and a job at an aerospace company.
A second song began: “We Are the World.”
The kids had been practicing choreography, and from the audience Lucky helped her daughter through the motions. Palms out. Now hands over head. Thumbs up.
Michael’s mom, Amanda Baker, watched from a few feet away. Baker works in Father Joe’s philanthropy department — staffers are also invited to enroll kids — and she hadn’t been sure her son would participate Thursday. When she’d talked to him that morning, Michael had said he didn’t feel like singing.
But seeing an unguarded microphone was too much to resist. As the track played, the 5-year-old walked forward, put the microphone partially in his mouth and nailed every word.
“WE ARE THE WORLD.”
The speakers seemed about to blow.
“WE ARE THE CHILDREN.”
The crowd roared.
“WE ARE THE ONES WHO MAKE A BRIGHTER DAY, SO LET’S START GIVING.”
Next, diplomas. Liberty Lucky solemnly collected hers, ran a finger over the laminated surface and then put the document in her mouth.
Kids soon threw arms around parents’ necks. Robes and caps were discarded, revealing a gelled mohawk and pink sweats. Cupcakes appeared and disappeared.
Donna Stephenson, the lead teacher, spotted a reporter talking to Michael. She leaned toward the five-year-old and said, “Charge $20 for autographs.”
