Abstract
Schools often struggle to build partnerships with homeless and highly mobile (HHM) families. These families are not homogeneous; they live in and engage with schools from diverse residential contexts. Using Epstein’s theory and framework and drawing from 132 interviews with HHM parents, school personnel, and community stakeholders in an urban district, results suggest that (a) interviewees had divergent experiences with family, school, and community partnerships; (b) some school actors were better positioned to engage HHM families than others; and (c) the diverse residential context of HHM families molded partnership building in unique ways. Theoretical implications and recommendations for practice and policy are discussed.
U.S. public schools, particularly in urban areas, have witnessed rising homelessness; in the 2012-2013 school year, 1,258,182 students were identified—an 18% increase from 2010-2011 (National Center for Homeless Education [NCHE], 2014). In addition to potential exposure to violence, hunger, and maltreatment (Gewirtz, DeGarmo, Plowman, August, & Realmuto, 2009), these students tend to experience high rates of school mobility, which often disrupts relationships with teachers and peers and complicates the consistent delivery of educational services (Lindsey & Sanchez, 2010; Murphy & Tobin, 2011). As a consequence of mobility and family stress, homeless and highly mobile (HHM) students can also suffer from behavior problems that can lead to social isolation (Lindsey & Sanchez, 2010; Rafferty, Shinn, & Weitzman, 2004). It is therefore not surprising that these students tend to perform poorly in achievement tests and have low attendance and participation rates (Kennedy, 2007; Masten et al., 1997; Obradović et al., 2009; Rafferty et al., 2004).
Yet, homelessness is not a homogeneous experience; HHM students come to school from diverse residential contexts including shelter, doubling up (living with friends or family out of necessity), public spaces, and motels/hotels. This landscape has also been shifting (Miller, 2015; Pavlakis, 2014); recent government policies aim to address homelessness by placing families directly into independent living accommodations, which is changing where HHM students call “home.”
Parental involvement, or investments by parents in their children’s education, is well documented to impact educational well-being (Jeynes, 2007, 2012; Sanders, 2000; Sheldon, 2002). It is generally associated with a range of positive results for students and schools (Comer & Haynes, 1991; Epstein & Dauber, 1991) including improved attendance and graduation rates, better test scores, and higher levels of student engagement (Epstein & Sheldon, 2002; Henderson & Mapp, 2002; Hoover-Dempsey et al., 2001; Sheldon, Epstein, & Galindo, 2010; Sui-Chu & Willms, 1996). Research suggests that partnerships, where “educators, families, and community members work together to share information, guide students, solve problems, and celebrate successes” are particularly beneficial to students and schools (Epstein, 2011, p. 4; Sanders, 2001) and can even aid school reform (Epstein & Sheldon, 2002; Mapp, 2003).
However, schools often find it difficult to build relationships with families, particularly in low-income urban neighborhoods (Epstein, 2011; Floyd, 1998; Mapp, 2003; Murphy & Tobin, 2011; Smrekar & Cohen-Vogel, 2001). Even though most parents report that they want to be involved with schools, parents with higher incomes, more education, and more familiarity with schools are more likely to remain engaged (Epstein, 2011). These challenges may be partly explained by parenting differences and social class; Lareau (1987) suggests that low-income parents may lack the time, money, and systems knowledge to engage in their children’s social and educational worlds in the same ways as middle-class parents. Yet, research also suggests that schools can do more to connect with parents who do not participate in traditional, middle-class ways (Carreon, Drake, & Barton, 2005; Sui-Chu & Willms, 1996).
Parental involvement is particularly challenging for schools to foster with homeless families (Murphy & Tobin, 2011). However, very little empirical research comprehensively examines family, school, and community partnerships (FSCPs) with respect to HHM families. The purpose of my study is to contribute to this research gap and extend scholar and practitioner understandings of FSCPs with HHM families. My goal is to examine the ways in which families, schools, and communities experience partnerships in the context of homelessness and high mobility and how families’ diverse residential settings (Miller, 2015; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010) can play a role in molding partnership building. With the assumption that responding to homelessness requires purposive action both within and beyond school walls (Miller, 2015), I foreground the perspectives of not only schools and families but also wide-ranging community stakeholders.
Working With HHM Families
All schools and districts must comply with the McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act (McKinney-Vento). Reauthorized in 2001, it defines “homelessness” broadly, including students not only living in public spaces, shelters, and motels or hotels but also those doubling up (sharing housing out of economic necessity) and awaiting foster care placement (McKinney-Vento Homeless Education Assistance Improvements Act, 2001).
The Act also provides a range of educational rights and supports to families and students experiencing homelessness, including a choice of schools with transportation upon request (Mawhinney-Rhoads & Stahler, 2006). McKinney-Vento helps shape FSCPs because it mandates that schools communicate with families experiencing homelessness to remove barriers to enrollment, improve parental involvement, and help students succeed (Swick & Bailey, 2004; Tobin & Murphy, 2013). It also requires designated district actors to work with a range of school and community staff (NCHE, 2008).
Importance of Partnerships and Promising Evidence
Amid conditions of homelessness, certain parenting practices—such as encouraging children’s skills and exhibiting warmth—are particularly important for children’s development (David, Gelberg, & Suchman, 2012; Gewirtz et al., 2009; Herbers et al., 2011; Miliotis, Sesma, & Masten, 1999). Research suggests that homeless mothers strongly value their relationships with their children (David et al., 2012) and that close parent–child relationships are associated with high levels of parental involvement and good grades and behavior (Miliotis et al., 1999). Likewise, partnerships are crucial to HHM students’ success (Groton, Teasley, & Canfield, 2013; Miller, 2011b; Murphy & Tobin, 2011; Stronge & Hudson, 1999).
Not only do HHM parents have high educational aspirations for their offspring (Stronge & Hudson, 1999; Tobin & Murphy, 2013), but in one study with 27 shelter parents by Yon and Sebastien-Kadie (1994), most parents reported positive views of the school, although some felt that educators needed to connect more with parents. Similar findings were reported in a study of nine homeless parents who were either living in agency-owned apartments or participating in a case management program (Grothaus, Lorelle, Anderson, & Knight, 2011).
Challenges
However, schools often struggle to identify and reach out to HHM families (Larson & Meehan, 2011; Tobin & Murphy, 2013. Some educators lack experience with homelessness (Groton et al., 2013), and others feel that HHM parents do not value involvement (Grothaus et al., 2011). In Groton et al.’s (2013) survey of 201 school social workers, the most commonly cited barrier to working with homeless students was “parent and family issues” including concerns about parental support and participation.
HHM families also face their own obstacles; homelessness can impair a parent’s ability to nurture their children (Hausman & Hammen, 1993; Howard, Cartwright, & Barajas, 2009). The daily chore of meeting basic needs (such as for shelter or food) can also trump parents’ other concerns, such as education (Murphy & Tobin, 2011; Stronge & Hudson, 1999). Likewise, the conditions of homelessness can make it difficult to create home environments that stimulate children’s development. For instance, it can be challenging to attain and store the appropriate books or to provide children with a variety of experiences (David et al., 2012). In one study, families experiencing homelessness who were in a program that provided wraparound support services, actually scored better than disadvantaged housed families in their access to activities and conditions that promoted children’s cognitive growth—perhaps reflecting the program’s opportunities for structured play and learning (Howard et al., 2009).
Although there is a dearth of research on homelessness and parenting (Gewirtz et al., 2009), the extant literature suggests that HHM parents often feel depressed, have weak social supports, and lack positive parenting role models (Bassuk et al., 1996; Howard et al., 2009; Hausman & Hammen, 1993; Swick, 2009). HHM parents are often forced to parent in public, commonly confront negative stereotypes about their parenting, and may feel a general loss of control over their parenting (Bassuk et al., 1996; Boxill & Beaty, 1990; David et al., 2012; Hausman & Hammen, 1993; Howard et al., 2009; Lindsey, 1998; Miller, 2015; Paquette & Bassuk, 2009; Swick, 2009). Based on their past experiences and educational level, HHM parents may also feel uncomfortable at school or have little confidence in their ability to help with academic matters (Paquette & Bassuk, 2009; Swick & Bailey, 2004). Coupled with these barriers, parents are often uninformed about McKinney-Vento and the available school/community resources (Miller, 2011a; Murphy & Tobin, 2011; Stronge & Hudson, 1999).
In response, scholars have recommended a number of strategies to working with HHM families. These include providing access to parenting and content knowledge classes (Murphy & Tobin, 2011; Stronge & Hudson, 1999; Swick, 2009; Tobin & Murphy, 2013), connecting families to community resources (Grothaus et al., 2011; Groton et al., 2013; Miller, 2015; Murphy & Tobin, 2011), creating a nurturing school climate (Stronge & Hudson, 1999; Tobin & Murphy, 2013), encouraging coordinated action between schools and communities (Miller, 2009), challenging biases and stereotypes (Grothaus et al., 2011; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010), learning about HHM families’ needs and assets (Grothaus et al., 2011; Groton et al., 2013; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010; Swick & Bailey, 2004; Yon & Sebastien-Kadie, 1994), and developing unique responses to families’ varied circumstances (Miller, 2015; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010).
HHM Families and Residential Contexts
At the time of identification in 2012-2013, 75% of homeless students were doubled up (living with friends or extended family out of necessity), 3% were unsheltered, 6% were staying in motels/hotels, and 16% were in shelter (NCHE, 2014). Shelters are supervised facilities that are used for temporary living accommodations and can include both short- and longer term programs (NCHE, 2013). Families who enter shelter may choose or be required to split up—with teenagers doubling up or men and older boys attending separate male facilities (Lindsey & Sanchez, 2010). 1 As a consequence to separation, providers may not consider that some shelter residents are also parents or they may ignore the needs and assets of family members who are not physically present (Barrow & Laborde, 2008; Paquette & Bassuk, 2009).
Despite the diversity in residential context, there is little research that considers how it impacts schooling. Hallett (2012) suggests that the particular residential arrangements of doubled-up families can mold educational participation. Yet most studies concentrate on families who are in emergency shelter—which may offer short-term housing with no guaranteed bed for the next night or may provide beds for a certain period of time—or compare sheltered families with their low-income housed counterparts (e.g., Bassuk et al., 1996; Howard et al., 2009; Miliotis et al., 1999; Yon & Sebastien-Kadie, 1994). Others do not draw comparisons across residential programs (e.g., Gewirtz et al., 2009; Grothaus et al., 2011). Miller’s (2015) work is an exception—his mixed methods study examined families’ places of homelessness including doubling up, emergency shelter, and longer term shelters, and explored how these places mold school and community action.
Yet, recent policy changes are restructuring where and how families live. In February 2009, the Obama Administration provided US$1.5 billion for a homeless prevention fund called the Homeless Prevention and Rapid Re-Housing Program (HPRP). Shortly afterward, the McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Programs were reauthorized through a bill, which matched two earlier bills known as the HEARTH Act (National Alliance to End Homelessness [NAEH], 2009). The HEARTH Act focused on homeless prevention and encouraged communities to reduce shelter stays (Institute for Children, Poverty & Homelessness, 2011). It also reauthorized the U.S. Interagency Council on Homelessness (USICH), which strove to end family homelessness in a decade (USICH, 2010). Alongside the focus on prevention, HPRP, the HEARTH Act, and the USICH encouraged a different philosophy of service delivery for HHM families. Known as the housing first perspective, advocates of this approach view permanent housing as a human right and believe that people should be housed before they are offered other supports (Padgett, Gulcur, & Tsemberis, 2006). Housing first advocates suggest that people should not be required to be sober or accept treatment before being housed and supports should not be mandatory (De Jong, 2012)—which often stands in contrast to shelter procedures. 2 Families in housing first are often placed in independent dwellings such as scatter-site apartments.
A few local communities who piloted housing first programs for families reported promising outcomes such as cost savings and decreased length of time in homelessness (NAEH, 2006), while data from the Beyond Shelter Program in Los Angeles suggests high rates of housing stability (USICH, n.d.). Yet there is limited empirical research on the impact of housing first for families (Pavlakis, 2014; Waegemakers Schiff & Rook, 2012). Although Pavlakis (2014) suggests that the parallel implementation of the McKinney-Vento Act and housing first may shape families’ life opportunities in several unexpected ways, little is known about what housing first may mean for partnership building.
Here, I address these research gaps, build upon the work of Yon and Sebastien-Kadie (1994) and Grothaus et al. (2011), and contribute to the literature by examining FSCPs from the perspective of HHM parents, school personnel, and community stakeholders. By exploring the diversity in HHM families, I not only complement the work of Miller (2015), C. M. Shields and Warke (2010), and Hallett (2012) but also extend this work by considering housing first. I ask the following: (a) To what extent are FSCPs fostered with HHM parents? and (b) How do the diverse residential contexts of homelessness and high mobility (such as living in shelter, doubling up, and residing in housing first) shape the opportunities and challenges for partnership building? To address these questions, I am informed by Joyce Epstein’s theory of overlapping spheres of influence and framework of six types of involvement for comprehensive programs of partnerships.
Theoretical Framework
I am guided by Joyce Epstein’s (2011) theory of overlapping spheres of influence and the framework of six types of involvement, which aim to assist schools in creating and sustaining partnerships with parents and the community. In addition to drawing organizational insights from Epstein’s model and framework, I also assess it within the context of homelessness and high mobility.
The theory of overlapping spheres suggests that partnerships are essential (Epstein & Dauber, 1991). For Epstein, partnerships—which emphasize collaboration to distribute knowledge, solve issues, celebrate victories, and guide students—are about shared responsibilities between home, school, and community (Epstein, 2011). Other partnership literature, such as on community schools, reflects similar themes of information sharing and shared responsibility (Dryfoos, 2002; Quinn, 2005). Alternative conceptualizations of partnerships tend to also focus on trust, shared power (S. L. Shields, Gilchrist, Nixon, Holland, & Thompson, 2013; Warren, 2005), and “mutual self interest” (McDonald, Domingo, Jeffery, Pietanza, & Pignatosi, 2013, p. 578).
In Epstein’s theory and as illustrated in Figure 1, the external structure of the model, the extent to which families, schools, and communities influence one another is determined by the experience of families (Force B), the experience of schools (Force C), and the experience of communities (Force D), as well as time and the age/grade of the child (Force A). Maximum overlap in the spheres of influence occurs when partnerships are created (Epstein, 2011).

Overlapping spheres of influence (external structure).
In Figure 2, the internal model, the inter- and intra-organizational interactions are illustrated. The family (f) and parent (p) interactions as well as school (s) and teacher (t) interactions happen separately from one another. Yet, the Family (F) and School (S) interactions as well as the Parent (P) and Teacher (T) interactions occur across these realms. Family (F) and School (S) interactions include organizationally focused communication while Parent (P) and Teacher (T) refer to interactions about an individual child (Epstein, 2011).

Overlapping spheres of influence (internal structure).
The theory of overlapping spheres argues that there are school-like families, where children are rewarded for success, children are provided tasks similar to those in school, and children are encouraged to be active learners. Likewise, there are family-like schools where the schools aim to advocate for their students, students are meant to feel as though they belong to a “school family,” and the uniqueness of individuals is rewarded (Epstein, 2011, p. 36).
Epstein’s (2001, 2011) framework also outlines six types of involvement, which include the following:
Parenting: Helping families set up home environments to support children as students.
Learning at home: Providing guidance to families about how to support students with their homework and other curriculum-based decisions, activities, and planning.
Communicating: Creating effective forms of two-way communication between schools and homes about school programs and children’s progress.
Volunteering: Recruiting and organizing parental help/support.
Decision making: Including parents in decisions of school; fostering parent leaders.
Collaborating with the community: Identifying and using community resources/services to improve school programs, family practices, and student development/learning.
Schools can use a number of practices to enhance each type of involvement, but each comes with challenges. Epstein (2001) argues that the types also require redefinitions: “the redefinitions redirect old notions so that involvement is not viewed solely as or measured only by ‘bodies in the building’” (Epstein, 2001, p. 410). 3
Some scholars have critiqued the dominant discourse around family–school relations, suggesting that it ignores power dynamics (Cooper, 2007; de Carvalho, 2001; Fine, 1993), praises middle-class actions through a focus on parents’ behavior (Barton, Drake, Perez, Louis, & George, 2004; Lareau, 1987, 2002), and may marginalize more subtle parenting acts such as holding high expectations and communicating with their children, which may matter more for achievement (Jeynes, 2010). This body of work suggests the importance of sharing power (Cooper, 2007), emphasizing the needs and resources of families in specific communities (Graue & Oen, 2009), focusing on love and respect for families over guidelines for parents (Jeynes, 2010), and forming a reorientation away from what parents do and toward how they understand engagement and how it relates to the broader context (Barton et al., 2004).
Although these perspectives raise important questions and inform my analysis, Epstein’s (1995, 2001, 2010, 2011) model and framework has evolved over time to reflect broader notions of involvement, an increased focus on how schools can do more to include all families, and an expanded emphasis on the broader community, making it more inclusive and applicable to diverse contexts. In its recent reiterations, it also allows for a close examination not only of school–family relations but also of the linkages between community organizations and schools and families—a vital component to addressing student and family homelessness (Miller, 2015). Epstein’s paradigm is not without its limitations; however, it is a dominant model that influences policies and practices in many U.S. schools and districts. Its predominance in practice coupled with the fact that it has not (to my knowledge) been evaluated in the context of homelessness, further justifies its use. Even though scholarship on partnerships is growing (Epstein, 2010), more research is needed that examines the diversity of parents (Carreon et al., 2005; Epstein, 2001). I contribute to this research gap and consider Epstein’s theory and framework within the diverse context of HHM families in an urban district.
Context and Urban Education
Urban is a complex and loaded term that often comes with assumptions beyond density and population size. It may suggest that the community experiences high poverty, crime, and general despair and that its schools are low performing. In popular discourse, the term has even been applied to schools that serve a large proportion of students of color, irrespective of geography (Milner, 2012). As such, it is important that I clarify how I conceptualize and apply these terms to my study site. I recognize that urban areas often confront similar economic and social challenges but I acknowledge that they are also places with many assets. Midtown, 4 the context for this study, is a Midwestern U.S. city that confronts rising poverty with limited resources but, like many urban areas, also has unique school and community strengths. I categorize Midtown’s schools as urban because they are located in a medium-sized city and also share “some of the same scarcity of resource problems” as larger geographic places (Milner, 2012, p. 559).
Midtown was an ideal study site for several reasons. First, the district prioritizes partnerships and embraces Epstein’s theory and language in its parental involvement and partnership guidance. Second, in response to rising student homelessness, it has a dedicated program (unique for its size) that oversees McKinney-Vento implementation. Since 2009, the city has also embraced the housing first philosophy for families.
Method
Part of a larger case study of Midtown, this study draws from 132 qualitative semi-structured interviews with HHM parents (n = 38), school personnel (n = 76), and community stakeholders (n = 18). At the time of interview, parents were staying in a number of different residential contexts including a traditional emergency shelter (n = 19), a rotating church-based emergency shelter program for families (n = 5), and two housing first-style programs (n = 14). Parents were also asked to discuss their previous housing settings, including doubling up. At the end of the interview, parents were given a 10-ride adult bus pass to thank them for participating.
An assistant professor and three graduate students conducted, audio-recorded, and transcribed all interviews. The research team reached out to all the district’s school social workers (interviewing 74% of them). Afterward, snowball-sampling techniques were used to identify additional school personnel. School participants (n = 76) included 41 social workers, seven classroom teachers, five principals, two school psychologists, six school nurses, seven administrative assistants, four bilingual resource specialists, one parent–teacher organization (PTO) president, one interventionists, and two guidance counselors. Community stakeholders who served Midtown families and children were identified through a countywide homeless directory coupled with snowball sampling. Community stakeholders included emergency shelter providers, housing first caseworkers, county-based community social workers, and employees of other local service organizations.
All transcriptions were uploaded into NVivo 10. I conducted all the coding and analysis for this study. Preliminary open coding began during the transcription process—as Rapley (2007) highlights, through transcription, the investigator becomes much more familiar with the data. After transcription, I engaged in a slow, line-by-line reading of each transcript, which allowed me to identify emergent themes that were embedded in the interviews through an open, inductive process (Ryan & Bernard, 2003). I then analyzed the data in relation to Epstein’s theory and framework. Table 1 illustrates an example of the data analysis process.
Data Analysis Process.
Note. HHM = homeless and highly mobile.
Findings
HHM parents, school personnel, and community stakeholders often reported divergent interpretations of and experiences with FSCPs. In some ways, the diverse contexts also impacted parents’ opportunities to actively promote their children’s educational well-being (Table 2). First, I examine the findings on the home context and learning and then I turn to the quality of family, school, and community interactions. Afterward, I examine the unique experiences of families living in shelter, residing in housing first, and doubling up.
FSCP Considerations by Type of Involvement and Residential Context.
Note. FSCP = family, school, and community partnerships. Types of involvement from Epstein (2001, p. 46).
Home Context and Learning
Interviews with HHM parents revealed that they valued education and wanted their children to be involved in the school and community. As a mother in shelter told her son, “go [with] all the stuff they have at school, go ahead and take it, it’s good . . . when you get in high school that’s what counts, extracurricular.” In other cases, parents initiated involvement to encourage socialization, provide role models, and promote growth.
Some HHM parents discussed the importance of homework routines, encouraging their child to do his or her best in school, and showing that they cared about school. Nine parents discussed helping, overseeing, or enriching their children’s academic well-being at home. A shelter parent reported, “whatever they are doing at school, I try to implement at home.” Four parents emphasized regular reading routines, while for others, math skills and writing quality were practiced at home.
Other parents commented on the challenges they faced in maintaining homework routines, overseeing their children’s academic progress, and enriching their children’s education. Seven parents felt that their own education played a role in shaping the extent to which they could help their children. Some had to reach out to friends or caseworkers for homework assistance and four parents explicitly asked for more guidance from schools. Six parents felt that their children had little to no homework to do at home—Half were grateful, but others felt it made it harder to keep track of their children’s progress.
School and community perspectives
Ten community stakeholders discussed HHM families’ challenges in constructing a home context that supported learning but not all school personnel were aware of families’ obstacles. For instance, a school social worker blamed children’s struggles to stay awake during class not on structural challenges of having a quiet place to sleep, but on the parents for “a lack of supervision” and poor parenting. Likewise, an elementary teacher, who often asked her students to read to a parent and have the parent initial a form, explained, I don’t want to say that I reduce my expectations but when I send stuff home day after day and he’s gone to a different address every day and none of it comes back . . . I just feel like if I keep sending books home, we’re not going to have any books left in the bookroom . . . I guess my expectations do change when the kids fail to bring stuff back—it’s just a loss of resources and I feel like it’s a waste of my time and energy to continue to try.
The teacher stopped assigning him any homework, denying him equitable learning opportunities.
Yet, eight stakeholders were well aware of the barriers parents faced in helping their children. Some focused on maintaining high expectations for all children while still responding to their circumstances. As a third-grade teacher declared, “I still try to maintain those expectations and yet, you know, gentle balance.” A bilingual specialist, for instance, had HHM students make a list of missing assignments and then helped them develop a manageable plan for completion. Although her actions were not the norm, one kindergartener teacher stressed the importance of guiding her students’ parents through homework: I’ll make like a little kit of at home work they can do and then I’ll go to the home and actually show the family how to work with the material that I provided. I show what I put together and kind of like physically model how to do it.
These types of actions created the foundation for high-quality interactions with families.
Quality of Family, School, and Community Interactions
Although at some schools, direct relationships were encouraged between HHM parents and teachers, in a couple, the school social worker was the main source of contact. As a principal explained, “we’ve streamlined it into sort of a primary contact person that those teachers kind of feed information through. It ends up being Mary, our school social worker.” A teacher noted, “I focus on the kid, the child. I let the social worker deal with, not deal with but develop their relationship with the parent because there’s a lot of trust involved in this kind of stuff.” Community stakeholders, however, were not always aware of schools’ external communication practices.
Schools were more likely to forge close relationships with families at the elementary level than during the middle or high school years. As a high school social worker explained, “kids do not want their parents involved so and we are also a school where kids are held responsible for how they are doing. They are the ones taking responsibility for that.” Likewise, a shelter caseworker reported, “the most challenging school staff for me to communicate with are generally the high school.” She felt that elementary personnel were much more responsive.
Across grades, however, nearly all school personnel commented on the challenges of interacting with parents because of outdated addresses, disconnected phones, and the general stress of homelessness. Many school personnel also felt frustrated when they arranged transportation for a parent and the parent still did not come to school. An interventionist highlighted how she unsuccessfully arranged for a mother to come to the school three or four times in hopes that the mother, if she saw how well her son did in an intervention, “would be more likely to get up and get him in a taxi.” Because she did not attend and her son had poor attendance, the school was “going to pick other students to take that place.” In this case, the inability of the mother to attend the school restricted her son’s educational opportunities.
Other school stakeholders were well aware of the multifaceted obstacles. A school guidance counselor highlighted that “there are just so many barriers” for families such as child care and work schedules, and that the schools did not always have the resources, staff, or flexibility to go to parents. She declared, “there are certainly things that we could do as a school I think to make things better.” Twelve school social workers discussed “meeting families where they are at”—reflecting a commitment to working with parents despite their instability—and many school stakeholders prioritized checking in and relationship building. If a first-grade teacher could not reach an HHM parent, he would “walk the kids home, wherever they’re staying.” Similarly, a kindergarten teacher used different outreach methods based on students’ home contexts, “if they don’t have a telephone I might send frequent notes home or a lot of times our families who are homeless are living with other family members so we’re able to reach them through other family members.” Likewise, in Table 1, a school social worker described the outcomes of a brainstorming meeting that led to positive schooling experiences. Yet even within a school, there were variations in how individual stakeholders communicated with families—some social workers and teachers visited homes while others “might not even have contact” with an HHM family.
According to school stakeholders, the financial resources available at each school to transport parents to the building varied greatly posing structural barriers to traditional definitions to involvement. Five school-based interviewees highlighted how many PTOs isolated HHM families because they held inaccessible school events (such as silent auctions) and followed social norms that were unfamiliar and uninviting to many parents. However, these barriers were not always formidable; at one school, a new PTO president worked to shift the PTO culture, which drew a more representative sample of parents to the school.
Family perspectives
Given the challenges, it is not surprising that sometimes families reported low-quality interactions with schools. Eight parents had holistically negative impressions of the school staff or felt that they were not well informed about their children’s progress. For 13 parents, communication with the school was limited to Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meetings. Seven parents noted that the school only called when there was “bad news.” A housing first caseworker reiterated this concern: Usually it’s only when a problem arises that families are really contacted unfortunately . . . But most of the parents have been really responsive about trying to problem solve. A lot of it is such a long-term problem that its really frustrating when they keep getting phone calls after they tried to implement these changes . . . .
Reflecting this, a mother in shelter explained about her son’s school: I feel like I do not know who is who . . . I haven’t even been to the school once but I had to walk up and get him one day so I had to have someone else come with me because I didn’t know where it was . . . I think that as long as he is fine, I kind of like the idea that I don’t hear from his school.
As such, there were sometimes formidable barriers to forging high-quality interactions between schools and families.
Despite the challenges, 18 parents had holistically positive perceptions of their children’s school and or staff members. Seven parents felt that they were always up to date with their children’s progress and that the school included them in meaningful ways. A mother discussed her interactions with school: I started going over and beyond . . . like, “call me when this goes on. Please don’t let me know after the fact. I need to know when it’s happening so I can help you out, troubleshoot.” And so I just do drop-ins at the school to see what’s going on . . . I’ve been more active and more in communication with the schools and stuff, and he’s been doing way better . . .
Only four parents volunteered in class or regularly attended events at school, and not one reported serving in a decision-making capacity. In addition to transportation and work barriers, a number of parents felt that finding housing or helping their children at home took priority.
School and community interactions
Although stakeholders recognized how collaboration could facilitate positive relationships with families, there was great variation in the quality of interactions between schools and the community. As a school social worker explained, Working closely with community agencies really helps because they know the students and they can give us some feedback and some perspective on where they’re coming from and also provide services outside of the school that we necessarily can’t provide.
Yet, stakeholders were also aware of the challenges including managing with few resources and little time, dealing with high staff turnover, having a history of “doing things in isolation and towers,” and overcoming “long standing turf issues.” As a school social worker highlighted, community stakeholders may also have different objectives: People in housing programs are often times more focused on meeting basic needs . . . they often use schools in the same way that many parents do. Kids are at school—check. They are not as engaged in the learning process in terms of why students have homework and why we should go to these events . . . Shelter people are working to connect people with housing, not necessarily schooling.
Given these challenges, most commonly, schools simply provided referrals to community organizations rather than built collaborative partnerships with them. As a school social worker explained, “most of the time the parents can, I can give them a resource list that’s kind of categorized. They can read it. They can make the call.” More than a quarter of school social workers discussed how they relied on a binder, provided by the district, of community organization phone numbers.
However, in certain cases, collaborative partnerships were built between schools and community stakeholders. Some school personnel met with neighborhood-based community social workers (who were funded by the county) on a regular basis to share information and address the specific needs of HHM families. A county community social worker explained the relationship with schools: School social workers are trapped in their buildings . . . so it is very difficult for them to get out into the neighborhood. I think that’s why they like us, because we sit out there and work with them . . . .
In certain cases, these partnerships led to changes in school-level parental involvement programs, or connected families to resources that were personalized to their residential context.
Experiences by Residential Context
In some ways, families’ experiences were shaped by their residential context. Nineteen parents, for instance, discussed how their residential context posed unique challenges to their parenting routines or their ability to establish home environments that supported their children as learners. Likewise, families received varying degrees of attention from schools based on where they were living.
Shelter
As highlighted in Table 2, parents in shelter felt that staff and other parents’ judgments of their parenting were stressful and counterproductive, while shelter rules and a lack of privacy prohibited them from setting up ideal home contexts, such as choosing what or when their children ate. As a single mother in shelter reported “it’s just like people always got something to say about how you should raise your child.” Other shelter parents expressed frustration that they were parenting from afar—with some children doubled up. Others, who had adolescents living with them, felt that the strict curfews and lack of privacy conflicted with teenagers’ needs to be independent. Yet, a couple of parents highlighted how having three meals a day helped to ease their stress and that they benefited from parenting resources and on-site services.
Because parents needed to find housing and shelters lacked adequate space to do work, helping children with homework proved challenging. As a father reported, “I do feel like I haven’t been as involved with the teachers and just kind of sitting down with the kids and going you know or reviewing what they did for the day.” Yet, families living in shelter sometimes found on-site supports to be helpful—one shelter provided early learning classes, which were well received by parents, while another provided tutoring (Table 2).
Families in shelters also had access to caseworkers who sometimes played important roles in fostering relationships between families and schools, such as by attending meetings and serving as a liaison (Table 2). Yet, the degree of interaction depended on the family’s goals, child’s age, and individual school stakeholder. Influenced by the caseworkers as well as by school stakeholders’ impressions of which families required the most help, schools reported communicating more frequently with families living in shelter compared with the families who were doubled up or in housing first.
Housing first
Many families in housing first described their current residence as “a nice apartment” or “the greatest apartment I ever had.” Parents in housing first appreciated controlling bedtimes and meals, reuniting with children or partners, and having a caseworker that could help facilitate family–school interactions. As one mother in housing first stated, “it is better when they have a stable home and they know what is going to happen when they come and when they leave.” Families now had space to store books and toys and “a kitchen table to do homework.” Another parent noted how her housing first placement allowed her to volunteer at school.
Yet, housing first parents sometimes suggested that their apartments were low quality, too small for their family, or posed safety concerns. One mother explained, I have two kids, I have a boy and a girl and so it’s a small apartment, one bathroom. It’s like a studio you know. So picture this, I have a five-year-old, she is almost six—getting her ready for school you know, and she wants to play and the baby is in there—but anyway you know, it’s kind of hard.
Depending on the apartment’s location, some parents were far from work, their social support networks, or other community resources, leaving them feeling isolated.
Doubled up
Doubling up posed many obstacles to creating a home context that supported learning, namely, because there was a lack of space and strained relationships among the adults particularly around parenting and the division of labor (Table 2). When forced to double up with her mother, one woman explained, “me and my mom clashed, parental styles.” Another mother described doubling up as a “headache” because “if someone else does not use the same cleanliness, then you have issues.”
Doubled up parents did not have access to on-site parenting resources or caseworkers. At the same time, schools often felt that doubled up parents were more likely to become involved in education than families living in shelter (Table 2). As a principal explained, We have several parents who are “doubled up” with someone else, but it’s pretty much quasi-permanent . . . And I see those parents having more involvement at the school. We’ll send them cabs to come to our carnival, you know, to get them involved. But typically, they’re doubled up, living with someone.
Because schools often felt that doubled up families had fewer needs, school social workers were less likely to reach out. As a school social worker described, “we have other families that are technically homeless because they double up and those families tend to not need as much in terms of resources and time and energy from me specifically.” A school social worker explained how “the kids that are going in and out of different motels and shelters struggle . . . they struggle a little bit more,” compared with “the families that are doubled up [who] seem to be a bit more stable.”
However, most HHM parents commented that doubling up was the “most stressful time” for themselves and their children. One parent reported that doubling up was dangerous for her young children because she could not childproof someone else’s home. These families may have benefited from respite and other support—services that the community provided. As a school social worker expressed, “the doubled up people, I’m finding, just don’t realize what’s out there to help them. I think this is a real break in the system.” As the quote suggests, if schools are not connecting these families to resources, they may have limited access through other channels.
Discussion
I aimed to examine FSCPs from the perspective of HHM parents, school personnel, and community stakeholders. Building upon earlier work on parental involvement and homelessness (Grothaus et al., 2011; Yon & Sebastien-Kadie, 1994) and also addressing the diversity in HHM families (Hallett, 2012; Miller, 2015; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010), I examined a medium-sized city and asked, “To what extent are FSCPs fostered with HHM families?” and “How do the diverse residential contexts of homelessness and high mobility shape the opportunities and challenges for partnership building?” I found that HHM parents, school personnel, and community stakeholders often reported divergent interpretations of and experiences with FSCPs. While some school stakeholders engaged in two-way communication with parents and collaborated in meaningful ways with community stakeholders, others were less well positioned to work with HHM families. Even when relationships were fostered, more could often be done—particularly in ways that parents valued the most such as communication and learning at home. Although partnerships were not always shaped by the residential context, in a number of ways, living in shelter, doubling up, or residing in housing first molded the opportunities to engage in their children’s education (Table 2). In this section, findings are connected to the literature and tied back to Epstein’s concept of “family-like schools” and “school-like families.” I also suggest some theoretical implications and recommendations for practice and policy.
Family-Like Schools
In family-like schools, the relationships between students and teachers are paramount, and there is a focus on personal attention and recognition of students’ individual progress (Epstein, 2011). In many cases, Midtown schools employed best practices that were aligned with family-like schools, such as focusing on unique needs (Grothaus et al., 2011; C. M. Shields & Warke, 2010; Yon & Sebastien-Kadie, 1994) and collaborating effectively with the community (Grothaus et al., 2011; Groton et al., 2013; Miller, 2015).
Yet, community collaboration was often limited, deficit-based communication sometimes dominated, and there was scarce evidence of effective partnerships with HHM parents at the high school level. Miller (2015) emphasized the necessity of developing unique responses based on families’ context and Graue and Oen (2009) highlight the importance of focusing on the needs and resources of households in specific communities. I mirror this focus and suggest that schools can learn more about HHM families and students’ residential contexts and then tailor responses appropriately.
However, I highlight how sometimes school personnel are “differentiating”—but only in the sense that they are more aware of and attuned to the needs of students in shelter than to students who are doubled up or in housing first. The perception that doubled up families are stable and better positioned to be involved was not substantiated by the parent interviews. Most HHM parents described conflicts with host families about parenting and the division of labor and reported little to no educational advantages to doubling up—a finding mirrored by Miller (2015) and Pavlakis (2014). Because parents reported on doubling up retrospectively, my findings may disproportionately capture its challenges. However, doubling up is often a precursor to shelter entry and is commonly time limited (Hallett, 2012). Given this, I suggest that many doubled up families may require more support than schools perceive. Likewise, with the federal emphasis on housing first over traditional shelter, it is increasingly important that schools understand and address the ways in which housing first may shape FSCPs.
I also suggest some limitations to “family-like schools.” Some school actors responded to students’ diverse contexts by denying HHM students comparable learning opportunities with their peers (such as by not assigning them homework or removing them from a successful intervention)—yet research suggests the importance of maintaining high expectations (Murphy & Tobin, 2011). Likewise, HHM parents sometimes used homework as an important vehicle to parental involvement. Not sending homework home at all—rather than redesigning it—effectively eliminated this partnership opportunity, hindering the development of “school-like families.”
School-Like Families
According to Epstein (2011), school-like families are well informed about how to help their children with school, establish and maintain stimulating learning environments, and tend to involve children in active learning. I found that some HHM families emphasized the importance of their reading and homework routines while a couple of parents even created their own academic tasks. Given parents’ limited economic resources and high stress levels, it was interesting that many parents emphasized the importance of extracurricular activities. This focus may reflect poor families’ “efforts toward keeping children safe” (Lareau, 2011, p. 66) or the fact that families are in the system and perhaps encouraged by caseworkers to enroll their children in programming.
However, for many families, their residential context hindered their ability to be a “school-like family.” Aligned with the findings of Miller (2015), families doubled up and in shelter had trouble finding quiet places to do homework although shelter did create some learning opportunities. Extending Miller’s (2015) work, I found that housing first families could more easily maintain homework routines, but sometimes felt isolated from the broader community and did not have access to on-site services (see also, Pavlakis, 2014).
Supporting the literature on parenting in public spaces (e.g., Boxill & Beaty, 1990; David et al., 2012; Lindsey, 1998), many HHM parents felt powerless. Some parents believed that their own education hindered their ability to oversee homework and that they needed more scaffolding from schools—a theme similarly reflected in the broader parental involvement literature (e.g., Epstein, 2011; Lareau, 1987). In many instances, these challenges limited “school-like family” practices.
Theoretical Implications
Although Epstein’s theory and framework was helpful for this study, my findings suggest a couple of theoretical considerations. Referring to the external structure of the overlapping spheres of influence model (Figure 1), and reflecting Barton et al.’s (2004) focus on the broader context, I suggest that in the context of HHM families, not only are Force A, Force B, Force C, and Force D important, but an additional Force E—representing the family’s residential context—may also be needed (Figure 3). Residential context did not impact all aspects of parental involvement in Midtown and sometimes its influence varied based on the children’s age (Force A), yet in many ways it played a role in shaping needs and assets and molding the extent to which FSCPs were fostered. Future research in other urban communities should consider the value of Force E.

External structure adapted for HHM families.
Another consideration concerns Figure 2, which illustrates the internal structure of the model. As previously discussed, the Parent (P) and Teacher (T) interactions are about an individual child. However, in the context of HHM families, I suggest that although interactions about a child may be between a teacher and a parent, they are often (and sometimes solely) between a school social worker and a parent or a school social worker, parent, and caseworker. Interviews revealed that school social workers play crucial roles in working with HHM families—a finding mirrored in research (Groton et al., 2013; Jozefowicz-Simbeni & Israel, 2006; Markward & Biros, 2001). As such, the model could be extended to consider the pivotal position of social workers.
Recommendations for Practice and Policy
According to Milner (2013), both “outside-and inside-of-school” factors that influence student outcomes are relevant to family and parent involvement (p. 23). Scholarship that considers the intersection of these wide-ranging factors can help propel research on poverty and education forward (Milner, 2013). Although this study helps address this need, and is based on rich data, it draws from one community, so additional research is needed to discern transferability. Despite this limitation—and reflecting the broader literature on strengths-based parental involvement and urban schools (Boutte & Johnson, 2014; Graue & Oen, 2009)—I suggest that schools need to create spaces to learn from HHM families. By creating these spaces, schools may also foster trust and share power with families—which are important themes in the broader partnership literature (S. L. Shields et al., 2013; Warren, 2005). Developing asset-based strategies, such as sharing students’ successes, may be crucial.
Executing Epstein’s (2011) redefinitions may require urban schools and communities to understand the diverse residential contexts. Epstein (2011) suggests that parents should be able to volunteer in places other than the school building; families in shelter, for instance, could be provided with opportunities to volunteer at on-site shelter-based education programs. Likewise, workshops, which should sometimes be held in alternative spaces such as community centers or parent’s homes (Carreon et al., 2005), could be hosted in a housing first living room. School actors who are connecting families to resources should be cognizant of needs and assets based on residential context—considering not only shelter families but also those doubled up or in housing first. Schools should also consider relationship building with important figures in student’s lives—even if the student is not living with them—and collaborating not only with shelter providers but also with housing first caseworkers, community social workers, and others who know the neighborhoods and individual families well.
McKinney-Vento requires schools to collaborate with school and community stakeholders and communicate with families experiencing homelessness, yet the act is severely underfunded (Miller, 2011a; Tobin & Murphy, 2013). Advocating for increased funding could strengthen the act’s power in fostering high-quality interactions between families, schools, and communities. Likewise, schools and districts should ensure that their local parent involvement programs do not operate in isolation from McKinney-Vento-related activities. In the face of rising student homelessness, it is more important than ever that urban schools use all the tools at their disposal to forge asset-based partnerships with HHM families and the broader community.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
