More than 600 homeless children have boarded this eye-catching bus. Here's why it matters
On the early April morning, the young girl was met with a burst of warmth — upbeat music played from a portable speaker and bright colors festooned the interior. Ashley immediately sat on a plush stool to draw with an orange marker, her beaded hair gracing her forehead as she quietly scribbled.
Not far behind, the little feet of Wadley, Esther and Emmanuel all climbed the bus steps.
Parked for the morning at a Shrewsbury motel being used by the state as an emergency assistance shelter for homeless families with children, this isn't a typical yellow school bus — it's a traveling classroom.
The COLORI Playspace Express, operated by the international nonprofit Amal Alliance, brings early childhood education and social-emotional learning directly to shelters located around the state, including Lexington, Revere, Auburn, Worcester, Marlborough, Shrewsbury, Hudson and Milford.
Since its inception last June, more than 600 kids younger than 6 — who otherwise wouldn't have had access to structured learning — have boarded the bus, greeted by friendly teachers and a mecca of toys and activities.
Read more: 4 in 5 new students in Mass. public schools are homeless. Here's why
The weekly enrichment programming works to 'bring calm and tranquility' to an uncertain, transitional time in these children's lives, Danielle De La Fuente, CEO of the Amal Alliance, said.
'These are the most formative years of their life, the most important for brain development,' she said, noting that many of the kids have experienced varying levels of trauma and are exposed to toxic stress.
Esther enjoys coloring inside the COLORI Playspace Express - a mobile daycare for children who are homeless throughout Massachusetts.
The COLORI Playspace Express is part of a program that aims to help children who are homeless develop social-emotional regulation.
Andrea Lutz (left) and Ashley aboard the COLORI Playspace Express, where children who are homeless can learn about emotions, among other things.
The COLORI Playspace Express is a brightly colored mobile classroom program helping to bring social-emotional learning programs to children who are homeless throughout Massachusetts.
Wadley (left) and Emmanuel show off their model airplanes in front of teacher Alicia Blair inside the COLORI Playspace Express.
Emmanuel gives a thumbs-up inside the COLORI Playspace Express, a mobile classroom for children who are homeless that provides social-emotional learning to children who otherwise would have no access.
Wadley shows off the model airplane he built inside the COLORI Playspace Express, a mobile classroom for homeless children throughout Massachusetts.
Teacher Andrea Lutz leads the children on a crab walk inside the COLORI Playspace Express, a bus that was converted to a mobile classroom for children who are homeless.
Teacher Alicia Blair hosts puppet time inside the COLORI Playspace Express, a school bus that was converted into a mobile classroom for children who are homeless.
Dance time is a favorite inside the COLORI Playspace Express for children attending class inside the converted schoolbus.
Wadley shows off his smile during his time inside the COLORI Playspace Express which provides children who are homeless access to educational programs.
The COLORI Playspace Express has served over 500 children who are homeless throughout Massachusetts in just a few months.
The COLORI Playspace Express is a mobile classroom that was converted from a school bus to bring social-emotional learning to children experiencing homelessness who otherwise would not have access to a structured learning environment.
Puppet time is an interactive component to the learning program inside the COLORI Playspace Express.
Over the last two years, as migrant families flooded Massachusetts and homelessness in general was on the rise, the state had unprecedented numbers of young children residing in its emergency assistance shelters, many of which were contracted hotels and motels.
In 2023, Gov. Maura Healey declared a state of emergency when the shelter system reached capacity with 7,500 families enrolled, about 50% migrant families and 50% permanent Massachusetts residents.
Public schools in Massachusetts reported nearly 31,000 homeless students during the 2023-2024 school year, 3,000 of whom were 'newly arrived' and residing in the shelter system.
The state was faced with the pressing need to provide supports for the children who weren't yet school-aged.
Ultimately, officials at the Executive Office of Education and Department of Early Education and Care contracted with the Amal Alliance, which serves displaced children around the world with its evidence-based 'Colors of Kindness' curriculum, to provide structured, trauma-based education on-site at the shelters. Neighborhood Villages and Horizons for Homeless Children are also partners in the initiative.
The state pays the full cost of the bus programming.
'I had seen a library bus before, and I said, 'Why don't we just use a bus as a classroom?'' De La Fuente said. 'The space is so inviting and welcoming. It just feels like a safe place for kids to learn, and to laugh, and to play. The kids see the bus and run toward it.'
The Boston University School of Social Work is currently studying the traveling classroom program, and 'everything is indicating we are seeing great progress,' she said.
Teacher Alicia Blair organized puppets and flower pillows as she waited for her students to board the bus on April 8. They had been to this particular shelter in Shrewsbury several times and affectionately knew the kids who would be joining.
Esther had been coming out of her shell, the teachers said. Emmanuel was 'ready for school.'
Being able to track the progress is perhaps the most rewarding part of their visits.
'We see a lot of change in focus level,' Blair said. 'When children come on the bus, they're kind of all over the place, distracted by every sight and sound. And by the time we leave, they're able to fully engage and work together. They've gained interpersonal connections and are learning those social skills.'
Social skills gained on the bus, she said, can be transferred to other areas of their lives.
Read more: Mass. schools boss defies Trump DEI edict, says state will 'continue to promote diversity'
Painted on the outside with bright blues, greens and yellows, the bus has been renovated with bench seating, play space and storage for toys and activities.
On this particular April morning, the children focused on teamwork. They practiced deep breathing and movement to regulate their bodies and emotions.
Wadley and Emmanuel built airplanes. Esther reluctantly — but eventually — performed a 'crab walk.' Ashley colored an 'emotions thermometer,' pairing colors with certain feelings.
They each dropped something in the 'sunny day jar,' a collection of drawings depicting what makes them happy.
Claude Francois, operations director of the COLORI Playspace Express, drives the bus — giving her a unique vantage point when it pulls into the shelter parking lots.
'It's been tremendous, the kids love it,' Francois said. 'It's a different place to be safe, away from being in the shelter. A space for them to decompress, to have fun and just be a child. You see the difference at the end of the cohort, you see the impact. They develop friends and play together.'
The hour-long lessons aboard the bus also give parents their own 'respite,' she said.
'They're going through a lot themselves and trying to get settled,' said Francois. 'If they have to look for housing, go to appointments, or just need to take a breath. Overall, everybody benefits. It supports everybody.'
Parents who spoke to MassLive in Haitian Creole through a translator said they're thrilled for the opportunities the bus gives their children. After just one hour spent on it, they said, they see progress in their skills and behavior.
One parent said he's used the free hour to attend job interviews.
By the time the lesson ended, the snowfall had ceased, and, reflecting the energy inside the bus, the sun was bearing down brightly. The kids scattered back to their motel rooms.
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Yahoo
15-06-2025
- Yahoo
Three gay dads, two iPads, one happy mess—A Father's Day Story
"Wait, are you all brothers?" No, definitely not. Moke and I (Mark) are married, and my former husband, Tom, lives in the pool house of our family property, where we're all raising our eight-year-old twins, Beau and Coy. It's a hectic, busy, and beautiful arrangement. For instance, a typical weekday might begin at 6 AM as the three of us dads–stylish but overcaffeinated–wrangle to get our overly rambunctious twins off to school. At drop-off, a crossing guard smiles and says, "Oh, how nice—your brother and their grandpa are helping today!" We've been mistaken for brothers, uncles, sons, even a throuple more times than we can count. (For clarity, we're not a throuple: some consider us more "traditional" and unconventional at the same time.) The three of us exchange a familiar glance of bemusement as we take in the puzzled expression on the crossing guard's face. Tom and I got married over a decade ago and knew we wanted a family. 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Before moving in, he rented a nearby apartment so the kids could get to know him gradually. He wanted to build a connection with them before jumping into the deep end. I even set up a nanny cam once to observe how he interacted with them. He passed. It may sound extreme, but that's how seriously we took it. For this to work, we all knew that the five of us had to have an inextricable connection defined by love, respect, kindness, and patience. Indeed, that's what we got. "Bringing a new partner into our unique setup was an adventure, and to his credit, Moke took it in stride."Mike Ruiz Moke often says that when he fell in love with me, he fell in love with all of us, including the kids and Tom. Tom admitted he was a bit nervous about sharing dad duties with a newcomer, but those worries faded fast. Before long, the twins were calling him "Daddy Moke," so having a third dad in the mix felt natural. Our family not only gained another parent but another source of love. Now, it's not all roses and champagne. Moke is an artist with a distinct vision for everything, and that extends to cleaning and the presentation of the house. Tom, on the other hand, believes a little chaos adds character. And yes, there is still an ongoing debate about the fact that Tom wears my old wedding ring. But somehow, it works. We've expanded our support network considerably thanks to our beloved nanny, Jennie, who is undoubtedly part of the family, and our close circle of friends who help make up our very own village. We didn't set out to be activists. But by living our lives openly, we've learned that visibility itself is a quiet form of activism. Every time we share a slice of our life online, we're showing the world that family can look a little different – and that's okay. Simply by being ourselves in public, we're challenging ideas of what a family "should" be. The response has been humbling. 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It's been a while since we had a newborn in the house, but this time, we've got experience—and a bigger village—on our side. This will be Tom's second go at fatherhood at 71. He became a parent for the first time at 62, and now he's doing it again. We tease him that he's not a grandpa; he's just a retroactive rookie. He claims he has more energy now than he did a decade ago. (We'll see how he feels after a few night feedings.) I'll admit, after having twins, I thought our baby days were behind us. We already had our hands full. But life has a way of surprising you. Now we get to do it all again, years later, and it feels like a gift. Beau and Coy are thrilled at the prospect of becoming big sisters and brothers. And the three of us dads are a bit older and wiser now, and hopefully wise enough to function on no sleep this time! The first time around, Tom and I stumbled through midnight feedings and diaper disasters. 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Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@ Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of Out or our parent company, equalpride.
Fast Company
05-06-2025
- Fast Company
I'm an emergency physician turned corporate leader. Here's how I led our team after a employee's suicide
My plane had just landed. I was anxious to get to the office after the departure of our team leader, a reduction in force culling hundreds of jobs just days before, and an organizational move to an unfamiliar part of the enterprise. As my team's senior ranking member, I needed to help process everything together. I turned on my phone to a deluge of texts. 'Please call as soon as possible,' my colleague wrote. 'Is everything okay?' I responded. 'No,' she replied. I called her as the plane taxied my crammed flight to the gate. 'Priya,' she said, 'Ashley died. She took her own life.' The words echoed in my head—strange sounds that made no sense and didn't feel real. Ashley had been a valued member of the team, a well-loved and developing leader whose deep empathy, perpetual curiosity, and strong work ethic were constant reminders of the nature and value of our role within the company. I didn't quite believe what I was hearing. Sobbing from the other side of the line pulled me back. I instantly donned the mantle of doctor. I had to help my friends and colleagues through this—and separate my own emotion from what needed to be done. It was going to be my job to tell the rest of my team. As an emergency physician, I was the one who told people their loved ones had died. I never expected to do the same in corporate America. And despite working for a healthcare company, I'd soon learn I'd have to do it with little support. The systems I was used to in the hospital were not in place here. Every Company's Duty We live in volatile times. Suicide rates in the U.S. spiked 36% over the past two decades, with nearly 50,000 deaths in 2023 alone. Across the country, job stability is tenuous, risking employer health insurance coverage. Mental health services are beyond capacity. Amid billions slashed in mental health funding and threats to Medicaid coverage, the situation will likely worsen. These tragedies impact the workforce, though precisely how depends on the level and caliber of systems-level organization and preparedness. Even in healthcare companies, clinical expertise and informed leadership can be systemically lacking. When I ran into this absence of coordinated systems, I used skills honed in the emergency department—through treating gunshots, heart attacks, and COVID-19—to help my team. But what if corporate America turned lessons from emergency medicine into a systems-level approach to suicide? We might turn tragedy into psychological safety—improving employee loyalty, productivity, and longevity—to the benefit of the business. Here's how. 1. Build a Coordinated Team and Established Process When a patient presents to the emergency department in a critical state, the team springs into action. The doctor, nurses, and emergency techs focus on the patient, while security, social work, and pastoral care workers support loved ones. In crises, everyone has a role. 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On the cab ride from the airport, I engaged our human resources team and asked for crisis counseling on-site. I reserved a private space on campus for the entire team to gather. Out of respect and dignity not only for Ashley but also for the team as a whole, it was critical that the news was shared in a safe space from a trusted source. Hearing such through the rumor mill would undermine the honor I held central to the process. Human resources teams and leaders should model dignity and respect—and not be the source of word-of-mouth spread. Death-telling is an evidence-driven process that includes a few key actions: gathering loved ones together, providing resources, and meeting people where they are, which means immediately setting context, using clear words such as died, and allowing time and space to process the information. A few hours after I got to the office, it was time. Given the recent reduction in force, I had to stave off my team's top-of-mind fear. 'First,' I said, 'our jobs are secure.' Then I told them Ashley had died. 'We don't know all the details,' I said, 'but we know she died by suicide.' I fell silent, giving space for the shock and emotion that followed, while my own heart broke for everyone. As a close-knit team, sadness shrouded all of us, settling into the room. The air felt heavier. The silence was replaced by gasps and tears. After some time, I made a simple promise: 'I'm here for anything you need. We'll get through this together.' 3. Provide Visible and Tangible Support Suicide is a contagion. Exposure may increase the risk of suicidal thoughts, behaviors, and depression. In the aftermath, companies typically provide information about employee assistance programs or counseling services to help people cope with grief. But merely pointing to resources rather than providing them can make the people processing shock feel overwhelmed. They may perceive it as absent support. Postvention is a process designed to quash the contagion. It alleviates the effects of stress, helping survivors through immediate, short-term, and long-term responses. Visible and strong workplace leadership, with a willingness to discuss and serve as an ongoing resource, is effective in postvention efforts. But when leaders neither acknowledge nor offer safety following the suicide of an employee, that void can feel dehumanizing and propagate stigma. 'If an organization cannot talk about suicide,' experts have noted, 'it cannot properly support those impacted by it.' Silence from leaders and HR can feel deafening—further undermining survivors' sense of psychological safety and spurring feelings of isolation and neglect. Leaders who support collective mourning, through memorials or gathering events, connect people while dispelling stigma. 4. Help Managers Through It As we began grieving, I did everything I could to give the team space and permission to care for themselves. I cleared noncritical work and nonessential meetings and absorbed parts of their workload. As a physician, I knew each person would have different needs, based on their beliefs, cultural norms, and behaviors. High-pressure postventions usually fall to direct managers, who often have minimal to no training. They may overlook their own trauma and grieving process while tending to the needs of the team and the business. While strict hierarchical structures pervade corporate culture, leaders, including those in HR, should break rank amid crises. They should reach out beyond their direct reports to support the larger team. The better trained and available HR leaders are, the more they can alleviate the pressures on any one manager. 5. Debrief, Learn, and Improve Organized debriefings with leaders to review processes, execution, and opportunities for improvement are standard practice in medicine and for first responders. This not only allows for continuous quality improvement, but also provides an opportunity for various members to voice their personal experiences. Time and space from an acute event brings clarity and refinement. Following the suicide of a colleague, an organized debriefing supports the long-term aspect of the postvention. This is a collaborative exercise, anchored in safety and humility and based in learning and a drive to improve. Through honest feedback and critical evaluation, processes can be honed and the company can benefit as a whole. Helping Employees Heal From Crisis At a time when systems across the U.S. appear to be crumbling, corporate America has a valuable opportunity to assimilate humanity and empathy. Through processes and protocols, organizations can navigate crises by nurturing compassion, vulnerability, and shared healing. That's essential to employee wellness—which is, in turn, essential to engagement and productivity. But systems can't solve everything. Medicine's most refined processes can't prevent the guilt that plagues most survivors of suicide. I still struggle with the questions. Had I seen Ashley in the emergency department rather than the workplace, could I have spotted a warning sign and intervened? Had I fully understood how deeply the reorganization disrupted her sense of safety, what might I have done to mitigate it? I'll never have all the answers. I have only the lessons learned from a tragedy no leader wants to endure but for which every leader must prepare. Ashley left an indelible mark on all of us, both in life and in her absence. The shock and grief may never be gone, and a disappointment in company culture may linger. But our team got through the crisis together—just as I'd promised.
Yahoo
04-06-2025
- Yahoo
Bandstand roof, Fort Drum monument dedications planned at Thompson Park
Jun. 3—WATERTOWN — It's going to be a busy a couple of weekends at Thompson Park. On Saturday, the new roof on the historic bandstand will be dedicated to former Mayor T. Urling and Mabel Walker, who left a legacy of philanthropy in the city before they died. On June 14, a series of events will be held to rededicate the 10th Mountain Division monument for the bronze plaque that was stolen last year. The roof project was one of the final initiatives that Mayor Walker undertook before he died in 2023 at age 97. He also played a key role in the planting of many trees in the park over the years. Mabel Walker died in 2020 at the age of 90. The unveiling of the Thompson Park bandstand roof had to wait until this spring after the project was delayed when bids came in to too high and work was held up until it was rebid. The ribbon-cutting will be held at 12:45 p.m. and will honor the Walker family, said Brian Ashley, who played a major role in spearheading the project three years ago. Ashley was among a group of park enthusiasts who raised about $200,000 for the project. "It's very important for the park and what it means for the Walker family," Ashley said. In 2022, a concert by a local big band, the Arrhythmias, was scheduled at the stone bandstand, but it was canceled because of rain. That pushed the group to get going on the project to cover the bandstand. As was the groups goal, the Arrhythmias will perform during this Saturday's unveiling. Ashley is convinced that it will be the first of many concerts that will be held under the new roof for years to come. But, just in case it rains, the unveiling will be held on June 14, the same day people will gather for the rededication of the monument. Last August, someone removed one of the four plaques on the monument and stole it. No one has been charged in the theft. The city, which owns the monument, is hosting the rededication at 9 a.m. that Saturday. Sculptor Susan Grant Raymond — the Boulder, Colorado-based artist who designed the monument devoted to the 10th Mountain Division and its soldiers — has recreated the plaque from the mold that she used to create the monument eight years ago. The community and Fort Drum soldiers were in disbelief when the several-hundred-pound plaque turned up missing. They couldn't understand why someone would steal the bronze relief, which was about 4 1/2 to 5 feet long and 2 1/2 feet wide in size. The section that was stolen was the Global War on Terror side, which honors the history from 2001 until present day. It commemorates the time period when 10th Mountain soldiers were in Iraq. The North Country Honors the Mountain Committee designed the monument and gave instruction to Grant Raymond, who has a history with the 10th Mountain Division. The monument has become a symbol for the soldiers of the 10th Mountain Division, both past and present. The monument event also will commemorate the U.S. Army's 250th birthday. After the ceremony, the park also will host the YMCA Healthy Kids Day at 10 a.m. The Fort Drum Army Band will perform, and there will be birthday cake cutting, Army history and displays, a bounce house, ninja course, face painting and much more. "We wanted to do something fun for the kids," said Jim Scordo, the city's Parks and Recreation Department program director. In past years, the YMCA healthy Kids Day was held at the Alex T. Duffy Fairgrounds. In other park news, the City Council on Monday gave permission to create a "Peace Pole" in the park. The Watertown Noon Rotary Club approached the city with a proposal to place the Peace Pole in a grassy area near the Rotary Pavilion in Thompson Park. The Rotary built the picnic pavilion, and the nearby exercise and fitness trail several years ago and have unofficially adopted this section of Thompson Park. The International Peace Pole Project is a movement that started in Japan in 1955 that involves the installation of a small pole that carries the message "May Peace Prevail On Earth." The message is inscribed on the pole in several different languages. Rotary Clubs across the nation have taken up this movement and have worked to install peace poles throughout the country. The exact design of the Peace Pole has not been finalized. The Friends of Thompson Park, a group of park enthusiasts, have endorsed the project. The Peace Pole will join a nearby memorial that was unveiled last year that honors those who lost their lives during the COVID-19 pandemic. On Monday night, the City Council approved a resolution to officially accept the donation of the COVID memorial.
