Help Mr. John Get To School
Donation protected
Richardson Living Magazine wants to help Mr. John get to his favorite school by promoting this Go Fund me account on his behalf! Difficulty with vision keeps him from driving anymore, but he takes advantage of the close proximity to go above and beyond, checking the grounds on the weekends and during school breaks. However, when he walks - it can take up to 45 minutes each way!
All funds will go directly to getting him a predictable ride from Lyft to and from work at Arapaho Classical Magnet Elementary School. (We even reached out to Lyft and are crossing our fingers they will help too - will keep everyone posted!) Per Go Fund Me guidelines, the funds will first be deposited into our account and a check will be publicly given to Mr. John once collected.
Mr. Dalton John has worked at Arapaho Classical Magnet Elementary School for the past nine years, and over that time has cultivated a truly special connection with the students, while providing them an unexpected opportunity to practice empathy and learn that our actions affect others.
Originally from Sierra Leone, he started working at the school a few months after moving to the United States. While he was saving money for his own place, he stayed with his brother in Rowlett, commuting by DART Rail to work every morning, catching the first train at 4:30 am to make it on time. He has since moved to an apartment closer to the school, but it still takes about 45 minutes to walk to work. Difficulty with vision keeps him from driving anymore, but he takes advantage of the close proximity to go above and beyond, checking the grounds on the weekends and during school breaks.
“I just like to come,” he says. His sense of pride in his work and the school is palpable. Kristen Strickland, the school’s principal, chimes in that this seems to be a contagious trait. She says, “If the kids make a mess, or they do something, then we explain to them, … ‘You have created work for Mr. John.’ They immediately feel remorseful. They immediately are apologetic and regret what they have done. And so, that’s why they have such a good relationship, and a loving relationship. They respect what he does.”
Mr. John is truly the celebrity of the school; though, most of the kids know him as “Mr. Pinky”. He says the story behind the nickname is a funny one. When he came to the states, he went for a vision test as part of the process of getting his driver’s license, but he couldn’t pass the test. He was sent to an eye specialist who was able to treat his eye inflammation, but the treatment made his eyes turn very bloodshot. At some point, the kids, in loving jest, called him ‘Mr. Pink Eye’, and thankfully, it soon after evolved into “Mr. Pinky”. Now, the kids will hold up their pinky fingers when they see him in the hallways. A silent way to say hello in the Level Zero (no talking) space.
But he really gets to show his stuff on Fridays when he juggles in the cafeteria for the kids during lunchtime, something for everyone to look forward to. Parents often make it a point to come on Fridays for the show, if they can join their children for lunch.
I asked Mr. John what he thinks he’s most grateful for in his life, and his answer seemed simple. And then he told me his story. “To be in America.”
He went on to share about the civil war in his country, and how he fled with his mother to Gambia in 1999. They filed for a visa for her, and she was given a green card to travel to Senegal for the processing of the visa. Mr. John didn’t file right away because he was told if he left, he couldn’t come back to Africa and he had two young sons he’d had to leave behind in Sierra Leone. They were told to wait in Senegal until they were given a date to come to the embassy, and when it finally arrived the September 11, 2001 attacks at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon occurred and the embassies had been closed. A week later, the embassy reopened, but after receiving her visa, his mother’s original flight to the U.S. had been canceled after the attacks. Eventually, she was able to fly from Senegal, and made it to the states, but Mr. John was left behind to wait.
He was a refugee in Gambia for eleven years. He had filed for his own visa through his siblings, who were already U.S. Citizens. He had traveled to Gambia with his mother when he was forty years old, and didn’t leave until he was fifty-one. His mother had since passed in the states in 2003, but he was unable to attend her funeral, still waiting on his visa. In early 2010, he was told he had to travel back to Sierra Leone to collect his paperwork, the final step before he could make the journey. It was his first chance to see his sons since he’d left more than a decade before. The eldest boy, only twelve when his father was forced to leave, was now a young man in college. Mr. John says he had one month to spend time with the boys before he crossed over, a painfully short amount of time, but now they are able to communicate by phone and video calls, staying in touch in a way they couldn’t for so long. His nephew, a lawyer in the DFW area, is getting married later next year, and his son is traveling to come for the wedding. A reunion all are joyfully anticipating.
After the war, Mr. John says, most of the infrastructure of Sierra Leon was destroyed, so, after the Ebola outbreak, his eldest son began working with the United Nations as an engineer to help rebuild hospitals and other vital infrastructure across the country. His younger son works for the corrections department. Technically, he can travel to visit with his visa, but he fears the risk of it while waiting for the final citizenship test date that could come any time by mail.
He sees his journey as a big part of what drives him to go above and beyond his job description:
“Well, you see, I came here to America when I was fifty-one years old. I look like my age. So, I say, I got this first job. The best thing for me. Let me stay and perform well because at my age, I cannot go find something I look for in benefits like the health insurance and the life insurance. Some other jobs, they don’t provide those things.” Retirement benefits will allow Mr. John to retire after his birthday in 2021. “Stay in one job. Focus,” he says. “The money matters sometimes, but not all the time. The relationships matter more. I have good relationships with all the staff.”
“Do you feel like you are part of a family here?” I ask. “Yes. We are like a family. A big family.”
Getting recognized off school grounds is a regular occurrence for him. He says he’s even had parents of previous students offer to pay for his groceries. Some small way to say thank you to a man who has done so much for the Arapaho Magnet family. Each year, the kids ask him if he’ll be coming back next year. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he tells me this, smiling as he shares that sometimes he jokes with them before saying that, of course, he’ll be there.
Reflecting on a recent visit from a senior class that attended ACM when he first started working at the school, he says, “Some of them, they are big now. I don’t know them anymore. I can’t recognize them…They change too much.” More than sadness, this thought seems to light his face with wonder, just as we all do, at how quickly time with our children flies by.
I came to meet Mr. John, expecting a sweet story of a school community gathering around a beloved staff member, but I ended up meeting a man with more depth of character and sheer determination than I could imagine. Knowing the hardship of his journey to citizenship brings new appreciation for this man who brings so much joy and guidance to the children at ACM. People like Mr. John are what make Richardson great, and it is an honor to report that there is a custodian at Arapaho Classical Magnet who is changing lives for the better, one Friday of juggling at a time.
All funds will go directly to getting him a predictable ride from Lyft to and from work at Arapaho Classical Magnet Elementary School. (We even reached out to Lyft and are crossing our fingers they will help too - will keep everyone posted!) Per Go Fund Me guidelines, the funds will first be deposited into our account and a check will be publicly given to Mr. John once collected.
Mr. Dalton John has worked at Arapaho Classical Magnet Elementary School for the past nine years, and over that time has cultivated a truly special connection with the students, while providing them an unexpected opportunity to practice empathy and learn that our actions affect others.
Originally from Sierra Leone, he started working at the school a few months after moving to the United States. While he was saving money for his own place, he stayed with his brother in Rowlett, commuting by DART Rail to work every morning, catching the first train at 4:30 am to make it on time. He has since moved to an apartment closer to the school, but it still takes about 45 minutes to walk to work. Difficulty with vision keeps him from driving anymore, but he takes advantage of the close proximity to go above and beyond, checking the grounds on the weekends and during school breaks.
“I just like to come,” he says. His sense of pride in his work and the school is palpable. Kristen Strickland, the school’s principal, chimes in that this seems to be a contagious trait. She says, “If the kids make a mess, or they do something, then we explain to them, … ‘You have created work for Mr. John.’ They immediately feel remorseful. They immediately are apologetic and regret what they have done. And so, that’s why they have such a good relationship, and a loving relationship. They respect what he does.”
Mr. John is truly the celebrity of the school; though, most of the kids know him as “Mr. Pinky”. He says the story behind the nickname is a funny one. When he came to the states, he went for a vision test as part of the process of getting his driver’s license, but he couldn’t pass the test. He was sent to an eye specialist who was able to treat his eye inflammation, but the treatment made his eyes turn very bloodshot. At some point, the kids, in loving jest, called him ‘Mr. Pink Eye’, and thankfully, it soon after evolved into “Mr. Pinky”. Now, the kids will hold up their pinky fingers when they see him in the hallways. A silent way to say hello in the Level Zero (no talking) space.
But he really gets to show his stuff on Fridays when he juggles in the cafeteria for the kids during lunchtime, something for everyone to look forward to. Parents often make it a point to come on Fridays for the show, if they can join their children for lunch.
I asked Mr. John what he thinks he’s most grateful for in his life, and his answer seemed simple. And then he told me his story. “To be in America.”
He went on to share about the civil war in his country, and how he fled with his mother to Gambia in 1999. They filed for a visa for her, and she was given a green card to travel to Senegal for the processing of the visa. Mr. John didn’t file right away because he was told if he left, he couldn’t come back to Africa and he had two young sons he’d had to leave behind in Sierra Leone. They were told to wait in Senegal until they were given a date to come to the embassy, and when it finally arrived the September 11, 2001 attacks at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon occurred and the embassies had been closed. A week later, the embassy reopened, but after receiving her visa, his mother’s original flight to the U.S. had been canceled after the attacks. Eventually, she was able to fly from Senegal, and made it to the states, but Mr. John was left behind to wait.
He was a refugee in Gambia for eleven years. He had filed for his own visa through his siblings, who were already U.S. Citizens. He had traveled to Gambia with his mother when he was forty years old, and didn’t leave until he was fifty-one. His mother had since passed in the states in 2003, but he was unable to attend her funeral, still waiting on his visa. In early 2010, he was told he had to travel back to Sierra Leone to collect his paperwork, the final step before he could make the journey. It was his first chance to see his sons since he’d left more than a decade before. The eldest boy, only twelve when his father was forced to leave, was now a young man in college. Mr. John says he had one month to spend time with the boys before he crossed over, a painfully short amount of time, but now they are able to communicate by phone and video calls, staying in touch in a way they couldn’t for so long. His nephew, a lawyer in the DFW area, is getting married later next year, and his son is traveling to come for the wedding. A reunion all are joyfully anticipating.
After the war, Mr. John says, most of the infrastructure of Sierra Leon was destroyed, so, after the Ebola outbreak, his eldest son began working with the United Nations as an engineer to help rebuild hospitals and other vital infrastructure across the country. His younger son works for the corrections department. Technically, he can travel to visit with his visa, but he fears the risk of it while waiting for the final citizenship test date that could come any time by mail.
He sees his journey as a big part of what drives him to go above and beyond his job description:
“Well, you see, I came here to America when I was fifty-one years old. I look like my age. So, I say, I got this first job. The best thing for me. Let me stay and perform well because at my age, I cannot go find something I look for in benefits like the health insurance and the life insurance. Some other jobs, they don’t provide those things.” Retirement benefits will allow Mr. John to retire after his birthday in 2021. “Stay in one job. Focus,” he says. “The money matters sometimes, but not all the time. The relationships matter more. I have good relationships with all the staff.”
“Do you feel like you are part of a family here?” I ask. “Yes. We are like a family. A big family.”
Getting recognized off school grounds is a regular occurrence for him. He says he’s even had parents of previous students offer to pay for his groceries. Some small way to say thank you to a man who has done so much for the Arapaho Magnet family. Each year, the kids ask him if he’ll be coming back next year. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he tells me this, smiling as he shares that sometimes he jokes with them before saying that, of course, he’ll be there.
Reflecting on a recent visit from a senior class that attended ACM when he first started working at the school, he says, “Some of them, they are big now. I don’t know them anymore. I can’t recognize them…They change too much.” More than sadness, this thought seems to light his face with wonder, just as we all do, at how quickly time with our children flies by.
I came to meet Mr. John, expecting a sweet story of a school community gathering around a beloved staff member, but I ended up meeting a man with more depth of character and sheer determination than I could imagine. Knowing the hardship of his journey to citizenship brings new appreciation for this man who brings so much joy and guidance to the children at ACM. People like Mr. John are what make Richardson great, and it is an honor to report that there is a custodian at Arapaho Classical Magnet who is changing lives for the better, one Friday of juggling at a time.
Fundraising team: Mr. John and Lyft (4)
Cory Montfort
Organizer
Richardson, TX
Amanda Eaton
Team member
Christina Aydt
Team member
Reid Robinson
Team member
