"There's joy everywhere if you look for it"
“There’s joy everywhere if you look for it,” says Margaret Creighton, President and CEO of Positive Tomorrows. “There’s also misery everywhere if you look for it. It depends on your mindset, and it depends on how you show up every day.”
We are sitting in the school’s library while the bright, Oklahoma City sun illuminates everything through the windows and glass walls. From my vantage point, I can look to my right out onto the playground, where, earlier in the day, an errant soccer ball ricocheted off the window and back into a crowd of smiling, running children. To my left, on the bookshelf, there is a votive candle beside an image, not of an ancient saint, but of Mr. Rogers.
Students eating lunch in the Positive Tomorrows cafeteria.
STEVE JETER
“The best part about being here is celebrating joy. Big or small, it doesn’t matter, right?” Margaret continues. She then walks me through several joyous scenarios, snapshots of her life at Positive Tomorrows.
...the student who is sitting in her office, reading a book for the first time.
...the student who is thrilled they could finally climb to the top of the playground equipment.
...the student who scored a goal in soccer.
...the student whose mom got her driver’s license.
...the student who runs up to their case manager and asks, “Did we get that apartment?” The case manager replies, “Yes! We’re going to see it later. I’ll take you right after school, and we’ll meet your mom there!”
Positive Tomorrows students at morning assembly.
STEVE JETER
Merrie Smith never planned on homelessness. She had certainly tried everything else. Growing up in an abusive environment, she ran away from home when she turned eighteen. She eventually married and had two children, but her marriage proved to be a continuation of the abuse of her childhood.
Meanwhile, her youngest, John, was growing into an intelligent, energetic kid. Unfortunately, he did not know how to channel that energy. Merrie wasn’t the only family member experiencing domestic violence. Abuse isolated him. He struggled to relate to others and himself. Sometimes, he would grow so frustrated that he would hit his head against the wall.
Within her small circle, Merrie repeatedly reached out for help, but they either did not know how to help or, worse, they didn’t believe her. Once again, Merrie had to chart her own path, not just for herself this time but also for her children.
Merrie Smith
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Merrie drew on a mindset she developed in childhood: Rather than wait for ideal scenarios, she would do the best she could with what she had. She did not know how things would turn out for them when they left. Would anyone be there to help? Regardless, anything had to be better than their current situation. She didn’t have much, but she would make the most of it. Merrie and her children took a leap of faith and left home.
Within days she discovered a network of organizations waiting to help, including the YWCA, where she connected with a counselor. Exhausted, Merrie explained one of her biggest unknowns: John’s schooling. She had homeschooled him for years, not by choice, and he desperately needed socialization and specialized care. The counselor gave her a single task for the day: Call Positive Tomorrows.
"Kindness carried me"
3rd grade students in class.
STEVE JETER
Positive Tomorrows is a tuition-free school for children six weeks to sixth grade who are experiencing homelessness. Driving through Oklahoma City, at some point you will likely pass City Care Night Shelter, the city’s only “no barrier” shelter, meaning anyone can stay there without precondition. They are always at capacity, so many stay outside the shelter in a row of tents—a prominent visual expression of a problem that many organizations, including Positive Tomorrows, are working together to solve.
The Positive Tomorrow’s team is well-versed in the challenges of homelessness in their state. If you ask staff, any one of them could rattle off the statistics: over 4,000 children in Oklahoma are experiencing homelessness, and one in four children in the state experiences food insecurity. Most of their parents work hard to give them a better future, but with the state minimum wage set at $7.25 (while the estimated cost of living for a single adult with no children holds steady at $20.33) homelessness is an isolating, self-perpetuating cycle that entraps many individuals and families who are doing everything in their power to escape its grasp.
4th grade students in class with teacher Ms. Kristy.
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Kelly Berger, Director of Family Support, says there isn’t a specific type of person who experiences homelessness. “It’s a circumstance that’s mostly born out of systemic failures, the wages we pay, the cost of living, the lack of housing, and the lack of a natural support system,” he explains—factors these individuals cannot control.
For families, the situation is even more complex. “The very notion of family homelessness is just overlooked and under-reported,” Kelly points out. They are an “invisible” homeless population, often tucked away in motels and overlooked by census data. “It’s a social epidemic,” he emphasizes. These families are denied the “common experience” of their children attending a safe school and returning to a safe place to live. Even if they connect with organizations that can help, it can take time for them to accept it. Many of them have been taken advantage of before and are understandably slow to trust.
Kelly Berger
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Thankfully, Positive Tomorrows has proven adept at nurturing trust and building on a long history. Founded in 1989, the organization initially helped families experiencing homelessness whose children were being turned away from public schools due to a lack of documentation (proof of residency, birth certificates, etc). Positive Tomorrows focused on helping these families obtain documentation and settle into stable living situations so the children could return to public school as soon as possible. Over time, the mission evolved as Positive Tomorrows expanded its scope and mission to partner with more families.
When Susan Agel came on board as CEO in 2009 (a role she held until her retirement in 2022), the school could only serve approximately twenty-eight children across three classrooms in a tiny 8,000 square foot space. Under her leadership, Positive Tomorrows shifted from a transitional model to one focused on longer-term stability. Previous decades had proven that the longer children remained at Positive Tomorrows the better their social, educational, and family reality were when they left. Instead of simply helping families survive, Positive Tomorrows refocused on working with families to improve their situations.
“It was all new because there wasn’t a model for what we do,” Susan says. “It seemed like with everything we did we were breaking new ground.” The pioneering work paid off, and Positive Tomorrows’ impact increased dramatically. Today, Positive Tomorrows operates out of a gorgeous campus with multiple classrooms and impeccably designed spaces.
Even though Susan is now retired she still volunteers, stopping by the school to mentor one of the students and occasionally playing piano and teaching songs to the kids. She also keeps a list of past students’ stories on her computer, so she can gratefully reflect on the work she feels privileged to have been a part of. She refers to it as “the joy of my life... I had someone tell me years ago that I had the best job in Oklahoma City. I agree.” The kids inspire Susan. “They are so resilient. They’re just amazing.” She believes that when people pay loving attention to these children, “there’s so much potential for what we can do for our state and our community.”
Susan Agel reads with a student.
STEVE JETER
There were only four days left in the school year when Merrie called Positive Tomorrows. They immediately enrolled John and began giving him the care and attention he needed. He received new clothing and three meals every day: breakfast, lunch, and a protein-rich afternoon snack. When the school year ended, John was able to jump right into the school’s summer camps before beginning a full school year in the fall.
Merrie describes John’s enrollment at Positive Tomorrows as the “first piece of the puzzle.” She now knew he was clothed, fed, and safe. The school then connected her to Hope House OKC, which helped her settle into transitional housing. Numerous other organizations assisted her in providing for her family’s physical needs.
With the present secure, Merrie could now build for the future. E’Lexus, her Positive Tomorrows case manager, met with her regularly to help her with next steps. Every time, Merrie would “always feel uplifted... there was no judgment whatsoever… I felt like I could just be myself.” Conversations with E’Lexus “kept me going. Kindness carried me.”
Merrie (left) meeting with her Positive Tomorrows case manager E’Lexus (right).
STEVE JETER
Over time, Merrie noticed John growing and thriving. The school’s trauma-informed approach worked wonders for him. Everyone from the teachers to the kitchen staff all made a difference for him. John loves to talk. At school, he received the undivided attention he needed to articulate his thoughts. His self-destructive behaviors stopped, and he no longer hit his head against the wall at home. While John historically became frustrated with himself when he could not do something perfectly the first time, at Positive Tomorrows he steadily learned perseverance and determination in the face of mistakes. His self-esteem increased, as did his academic performance.
He especially loved the activities. Merrie felt like she was watching him catch up on the childhood he had missed as he told her about the camps, classes, and field trips. One field trip made a particular impression on him: He rode in a small airplane. At his personalized birthday party (the school throws one for each student), John was thrilled to receive a GAN speed cube.
By the time John graduated from Positive Tomorrows and moved on to a charter school Merrie had watched him transform, moving from “survival mode to thriving mode” in an environment where everyone knew and loved him.
High Structure, High Love
Each child is an epicenter of transformation. What starts with one child ripples outward to include parents, siblings, extended family, community members, and other organizations—an entire network built on partnership and shared dignity.
Positive Tomorrows creates a “high structure, high love” environment for both children and parents—transparently communicated guidelines that provide safety and security for the kids. Within that framework there is still plenty of room for creativity and individuality. If those boundaries are violated hard conversations ensue, but, according to Margaret, growth lives in those conversations and is supported by love. “When we fall outside the box… (we all will at some point, myself included) we meet you with unending love and support to get you back inside the box.”
5th grade students in class at Positive Tomorrows.
STEVE JETER
This “high structure, high love” philosophy permeates every aspect of Positive Tomorrows. For instance, the building’s architecture is trauma-informed, designed by Gary Armbruster of MA+ Architecture. The structure emphasizes openness and transparency, hence the numerous windows and glass walls. The building includes the typical hallmarks of a school—classrooms, lunch tables, a library—but with many distinctive features rooted in student feedback. Lunch tables are round, so students can see their friends while they eat. Older students have lockers so they can feel like they have a personal space of their own. 3D printers are available to students, each one named after a different droid from Star Wars. Outside in the garden, students learn how to grow food, and in the kitchen they can take cooking classes. In one of many counseling rooms, students and parents can attend mental health, speech, and occupational therapy with professionals. Families can also utilize the laundry facilities and showers.
Students participate in ballet class.
STEVE JETER
Outside of class, students can participate in extra-curricular activities tailored to student interests. Past and current extracurriculars include ballet (in partnership with the Oklahoma City Ballet), various sports, music, journalism, chess club, garden club, even Dungeons & Dragons.
Kids also participate in specific experiences designed to help them grow in life skills and generosity. Every winter, kids and parents can participate in the Merry Market, picking out gifts to give each other. Throughout the year, in the school’s clothing room, students have a boutique-style shopping experience, where they get to exercise agency by picking out clothes that match their unique style.
A student playing gaga ball on the Positive Tomorrows playground.
STEVE JETER
While the children learn and grow at school, Positive Tomorrows builds long-term stability alongside their parents. Kelly explains that helping parents and entire families is the “missing piece,” because a child cannot be helped in a vacuum. After all, most of their lives transpire outside of school. If the family is systemically denied support and stability, it can cancel out the work done in school.
Positive Tomorrows strives to provide non-judgmental support from the very first phone call. While the children adjust to school, case managers meet with parents to assist them as they identify the best pathways forward. With goals in place, parents receive support while pursuing those goals. The school is there every step of the way to assist with concrete needs. For example, a remarkable 90% of Positive Tomorrows parents attend parent-teacher conferences, in part because the school assists with transportation.
STEM teacher Juan De Leon with a student.
STEVE JETER
Throughout the Positive Tomorrows journey, case managers form transformational partnerships with parents. Yes, there are hard conversations about difficult topics such as student behavior or sensitive mental health situations; however, the case managers foster nuanced relationships, which means they also talk about progress and call when they have good news to report about a child. Walking with parents through the extremes of life builds trust, giving them the skills to move past what Kelly calls the traumatic “all or nothing” approach to relational difficulties common to those struggling with housing insecurity. With new social tools, parents can re-engage with the world.
Full Circle Moments
“I feel like I have lived three different lifetimes and I’m only 39,” Merrie says. Her first life? Her abusive childhood. Her second life? Her abusive marriage. “I grew up in poverty and always felt like there was this great chasm between me and a happier version of me, a more successful version of me. I didn’t know how to get over that great chasm.” As for her third life? She feels like she now has a community of support that partnered with her to cross the chasm. “I finally started to really live life.”
Merrie returned to college after receiving a scholarship and began studying crime victim survivor services. She recently graduated from the Center for Social Innovation, a leadership development program, and wants to become a crime victim advocate so she can support others with a similar lived experience and help them navigate the criminal justice system.
Merrie believes deeply in paying it forward. She hopes to continue her education, pursuing a bachelor’s degree and eventually law school, so she can work towards fixing the broken systems that contribute to housing insecurity. She also serves on the Positive Tomorrows Parental Advisory Committee, a group that focuses on providing connection and community for families who have transitioned out of the school. They work on initiatives such as job fairs and addressing concrete needs, including shoes and haircuts. “I had support when I had hard days. I had other people believing in me when my belief fell short... I want that for other people.”
Merrie still has boxes to unpack in her new home. After living in an apartment complex, a separate home creates a new reality of peace and quiet. She smiles as she talks about the backyard, “I feel like it’s my own space… I can drink coffee outside, which is beautiful. Incredible.” John loves the new house. They play in the backyard together and “dig around in the dirt.”
At his new charter school, John is applying the academic and social skills he learned at Positive Tomorrows, continuing to raise his grades and make friends. Merrie’s pride is evident as she talks about him. “He’s just a good human... I hear all the time from people telling me what a good kid he is.” She says his joy is evident, and he too wants to find a way to help others. She notices him looking after younger, more timid children. When he turns 16 he plans to volunteer at Positive Tomorrows.
Ruth Mejia in the Positive Tomorrows clothes room.
STEVE JETER
Positive Tomorrows’ reach extends into the past, present, and future. Over twelve years ago, Ruth Mejia volunteered with her church during a coat drive for the school in their old facility. In 2023, during a difficult time, she enrolled her children after a referral through a YWCA case manager. A couple months later she remembered her previous connection to the school. In a meaningful, “full circle moment,” she realized that “the same organization we helped years ago… is here for me.”
Before he was on staff, Kelly Berger’s Positive Tomorrows journey began when he served as a classroom assistant and taught hand drumming classes as an undergrad. The impact of that experience lingered with him until, years later, he applied for his current job. “This is what I’m meant to be doing.”
Savannah Miller
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Savannah Miller, a parent of a former student, now serves as chairman of the Positive Tomorrows Parents Advisory Committee. Her service stems from her gratitude for how the school supported her family. “We want to make sure we have as many resources as possible to give back.”
For Alex Edwards, volunteering with the school over a decade ago caused her to “fall in love with Oklahoma City.” She now serves as the Vice Chair of the board and chairs the Public Policy Committee, working to unlock scholarships for the school, create new funding streams, and educate state representatives and senators about the school’s mission, working to bridge the gap between the legislative process and the needs of the families.
A student draws with chalk in the Positive Tomorrows playground.
STEVE JETER
Joining Positive Tomorrows in building a better future are many partner organizations. “This city is like no other in collaboration... we’re better together,” Margaret says. She believes everyone benefits when different organizations play to each other’s strengths. She explains that Positive Tomorrows avoids directly providing housing because holding too much power over a family is unethical. Instead, the school partners with organizations like City Rescue Mission to connect families with housing. “There’s not one agency that’s going to be able to solve homelessness for any one family,” says CEO Erin Goodin. “We all have to work together.”
Sarah Rahhal echoes that sentiment. She is the CEO of Sunbeam Family Services, an agency that supports Positive Tomorrows in their Early Head Start classrooms (birth to age three) and their Head Start program which covers classrooms for children from ages three to four. She finds working with Positive Tomorrows to be “highly collaborative. [When we] collaborate and pool resources, it makes us better partners and better community members.”
Cutting Through Cliche
DJ Mayhue teaches a student support class.
STEVE JETER
“I love the atmosphere here with the kids. It’s just a great place,” DJ says.
DJ Mayhue is my final interview at Positive Tomorrows. This is my first real conversation with him, but I feel as if I have been getting to know him for the past two days. Colleagues and parents glowingly mentioned him in several previous interviews.
He has traditionally worked as the operations manager—overseeing maintenance, managing the kitchen area, and heading up the transportation team. The last one fascinates me. Plenty of schools have transportation and bus routes, but at Positive Tomorrows they have to go above and beyond to ensure kids make it to school. Because the families, by necessity, often have to stay at different locations in the Oklahoma City area, bus routes are constantly changing. Still, if you are a student living within the school’s boundary area, one of their buses will pick you up, even if they need to pick you up from a different location than yesterday. DJ regularly makes day-of route adjustments.
DJ Mayhue talks with a student in the student support office.
STEVE JETER
He also serves as a student support specialist, which, in his words, means if a student is “having a meltdown, call Mr. DJ!” It’s clear he loves this part of his job. “It’s not that I like drama, but I want to be in the mix and I want to help.” Before Positive Tomorrows, DJ worked at a boys’ group home. He is also a foster parent. He is no stranger to children dealing with trauma.
Suppose a child reaches a breaking point at school. In that case, they receive a “Mr. DJ session,” where they will encounter a compassionate listener who will help them excavate the complicated thoughts and emotions obscuring the root issue. DJ will challenge them to grow and work through interpersonal issues, but only after asking questions and building trust with them.
It works. Thanks to the transparent glass walls, I have seen children moving in and out of the Susan Agel Family Room for summer camp and DJ has consistently been right in the middle of it. Smiles abound. He genuinely seems to love being around them, and they love to be around him. He represents so much of what makes this place special.
Positive Tomorrows aims and succeeds at creating a “high structure, high love” environment. If I may be so bold, I would like to suggest a third category: high joy. DJ embodies “high structure” by organizing operations and setting behavioral boundaries. He embodies “high love” by building trusting relationships with the kids. Finally, he embodies “high joy.” You see it on his face and on the faces of the children around him. He is a microcosm of Positive Tomorrows: intentional structure leads to opportunities for loving support, a winning combination that often produces joy in all parties.
Saint Fred Rogers
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To my left, the Fred Rogers votive candle still sits on the shelf. He has been watching over proceedings like some patron saint of kindness. Throughout my conversations, I have consistently glanced his way. I even took a picture of the candle yesterday and looked at it while organizing my notes in the hotel. I keep thinking about Fred’s famous quote: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” This quote often shows up on my social media feeds when a sudden disaster makes headlines, and I must admit, I usually find it trite. However, Fred’s sentiment roars to life and cuts through cliche as I sit in Positive Tomorrows.
Margaret Creighton with a student
STEVE JETER
Homelessness is not a sudden flashpoint disaster, but it is a disaster nonetheless. It may not shout at us from the headlines, but it constantly hums throughout our world, and, if it doesn’t affect you personally, you may never notice it. Still, it persistently pulls at the threads of our society, threatening to unravel families and communities. Positive Tomorrows and their network are the persistent helpers in a persistent disaster, re-knitting and strengthening the communal fabric of Oklahoma City.
As Margaret said, so much depends on mindset. “There’s joy everywhere if you look for it.” Here, if you look for the helpers, you will find joy, and if you look for joy, you will find the helpers—the staff, the children, the families, the volunteers, the partner organizations—all working together to create more… well… positive tomorrows.