By Alex Maroño Porto

Within a citywide bureaucracy that can sometimes seem cold, confusing, and, even cruel, some migrant families with school-age children – 20,000 have arrived in New York City in the past two years – are finding connection, community, and support in the public schools their children attend. One school on the Upper West Side was brought to our attention by a reader whose grandson attends it.  

P.S. 163, the Alfred E. Smith School, on West 97th Street, between Columbus and Amsterdam Avenues, became a lifeline for Nora Rey, who arrived in the United States in April, 2023, from Bucaramanga, Colombia, with her husband Jason and eight-year-old son Santiago. They were assigned to a shelter on West 36th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues, and Santiago was assigned to P.S. 163. 

“At first, it was confusing,” Rey said in a phone interview in Spanish. “Here everything is digital, everything goes through emails.” But the school has a dual English-Spanish language program, and through Spanish-speaking community members, Rey learned to navigate the system. She began participating in school events, helping to decorate classrooms. Santiago quickly learned English and made friends with other students. “P.S. 163 seems to be the best [school] in New York,” Rey told the Rag. “My son cannot be in a better school.”

The P.S. 163 school community has also benefited from these newcomers, said Karen Redlener, the grandmother of a second-grader named Auren. His budding friendships with new students, including Santiago, have sharpened his language skills, Redlener said in a phone interview. “That is a very positive experience. The quality of his education is being enriched,” she said.

Although Auren’s dual language-class has increased from 12 kids last year to approximately 21 in the fall, Redlener says new families like Rey’s quickly assimilate into the community. “Auren had his eighth birthday [party] and he invited all the kids from his class,” said Redlener. “I spoke to the parents of the Spanish-speaking families at the party and some spoke English quite well.”

P.S. 163 has also helped Andrea Scarpetta, a 42-year old asylum seeker from Bogotá, Colombia, and her family find a support network that, while different from the one back home, made them feel embraced by the community. Scarpetta came to New York on March 4 with her husband and nine-year-old daughter Valentina. She enrolled Valentina in a Manhattan school the name of which she cannot remember, but she took her out at the end of the school year. “The teachers had no idea about the language [barrier], everyone spoke only English,” she said in a phone interview in Spanish. “My daughter did not even learn how to say ‘Good morning.’”

When she enrolled Valentina in P.S. 163 last September, Scarpetta soon found a community that allowed her daughter to thrive. P.S. 163 teachers were more responsive. “She has learned a lot of English, and she has times where they separate her to teach her English,” Scarpetta said. 

But now, the successful integration of both these families into their new Upper West Side community is being threatened by New York City’s precarious, overburdened shelter system. On July 3, Rey was told that she and her family had to leave their 36th Street shelter since, apparently, the owner was not interested in renewing the lease with the city. Eight days later, the Reys were picked up at 10:00 a.m. by a school bus and brought to a new shelter at 231 Grand Street, in Chinatown. “They only allowed us two suitcases per person,” said Rey. “I had all our winter stuff, and Santiago had his toys,” she said. 

Their new shelter has turned out to be in considerably worse condition than the 36th Street shelter. Rey also misses the food options around their former shelter, and says the new one, which has a 9 p.m. curfew, feels unsafe at night. And it is infested with vermin. “There are nights when I cannot sleep because I hear the mice moving around,” said Rey. “Yesterday at one in the morning, I was bothering my husband because we heard a horrible screeching sound.” She told the management about it, but their only response was that they should keep their room clean. Rey said they will keep Santiago at P.S. 163, despite the greater distance from their new shelter. “We will wake up earlier, because honestly, I do not want to change his school,” Rey said. “He already feels comfortable there.”

The shelter system was further strained after Mayor Eric Adams adopted the “60-Day Rule”  last October. This limits migrant families to two-month stays in city shelters, after which they must reapply for new shelter space. The policy has meant that, after 60 days, some families are told they must move to a shelter in a different borough, neighborhood, or school district, disrupting education for these students and their parents’ routines.

In some cases, local Upper West Side organizations were able to help some of these migrants stay close to their schools. Last February, the Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan partnered with Mañana Otro Día, an UWS nonprofit, to form a coalition called D3 Open Arms, named for the District 3 school district that serves the UWS. Working with City Councilmember Gale Brewer’s office, D3 Open Arms has intervened to keep families on the UWS or nearby in Manhattan – and its children in UWS schools.

The housing uncertainty and fear of the 60-day policy is driving some families out of the city and state entirely. Like Rey, Scarpetta was moved out of the 36th Street shelter with little notice and told that if she did not clear out her room, she would have to pay for it out of her own pocket. Her family was reassigned to another vermin-infested space that did not meet any “decent livable conditions,” she said. “It had cockroaches and mice. How can one live [with that]?” Seeing mouse droppings atop of her bed brought her to her limit. “It was horrible,” she said. 

An acquaintance of her husband suggested that Virginia was a more affordable place to live and offered better job prospects than New York City. Within a few days, the Scarpetta family had packed up and relocated to Manassas, in the northern part of the state, where they used some of their savings to rent a new home and start fresh. Far from convincing them to remain in the city, the social worker at their last shelter supported their decision to move out. “He told me that it was the best thing I could do,” she said.

In Manassas, Scarpetta hopes to find a peace of mind that was unattainable within New York’s shelter system. Currently, she is looking for a job, ready to settle down in their new community and build a more stable life for herself and her family. “I think we will end up staying here,” she said, 

Valentina will not be reuniting with her P.S. 163 classmates in the fall, but Scarpetta is already exploring options to ensure that her daughter can continue her education in Virginia, advancing the mission started by her teachers last year at P.S. 163. “I am looking into options for her to start studying,” she said. “Luckily, it is at the beginning of the school year.” 

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