The School That Chocolate Built

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A Rich Education

Milton S. Hershey's bounty gives underprivileged students a sweet deal.

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A serious student who rarely gets ruffled, Mergitu was focused as Troxell sketched the storyline of the musical "The Lion King." Troxell talked about the death of the main character's father and its impact on the play.

"He's just aching inside," Troxell said. "The loss of his father is so big."

Mergitu's own father died in 2000 after suffering complications from diabetes. Mergitu's mother, Shegitu Godo, was left to care for Mergitu and her younger brother Jabesso. Shegitu was pregnant with her third child, a boy named Obse.

Shegitu's husband, Shinka, had lived in the United States for several years when he returned to his home country of Ethiopia in 1995 to find a wife. In Addis Ababa, he spotted Shegitu, 15 years his junior, with her wide smile and tinkling laugh, and brought her to Washington. She didn't speak much English and spent her days caring for her children in their small rowhouse.

When her husband died, Shegitu worked at day-care centers, but she had difficulty being available for her children. Mergitu was struggling at Washington's Ludlow-Taylor Elementary School, where students teased her about her name, her wide eyes and her Ethiopian descent. Jabesso, too, faced bullying that sometimes turned physical. Then Shegitu heard about the Milton Hershey School. Mergitu was accepted in 2005, and Jabesso arrived the following year. Their younger brother, Obse, 8, is now in third grade at Ludlow-Taylor and doing well, but he's waiting for a spot at the Hershey School. Shegitu works as a nanny for $13 an hour, while her parents help care for Obse.

By all accounts, Mergitu and Jabesso have flourished at the Hershey School. Mergitu, now 12 and in seventh grade, plays the flute; Jabesso, now 10 and in fifth grade, rocks the trombone in the school jazz band. Mergitu is an outstanding student; Jabesso is a leader in his class, and both are avid readers who always carry a thick book. During her sixth-grade year, Mergitu won the coveted school Visionary Award for high character. Her teachers praise her academic success, and though she's quiet, she has made good friends, something she said she didn't have at Ludlow-Taylor. Mergitu wants to go to college and become a pharmacologist to help people with diabetes like her father. "I felt bad he died," she said, "and I want to help other people who have it."

Teachers say Jabesso, who wants to be an illustrator, a professional athlete or a comedian, can be a bit of a class clown. It's a sense of humor his sister says never surfaced at school in Washington. "At Taylor, he never talked or joked around," Mergitu said. "It feels a lot safer here, even though there are a lot of rules."

But many of the students aren't as lucky as the siblings, who have a stable parent and a secure home, said Beth Shaw, a licensed psychologist and the school's executive director of student support services. About 30 percent of the students have never been to a dentist's office and "literally have a mouthful of cavities and are in chronic pain" when they arrive; up to 45 percent of students have a parent who is or was in jail. Many have faced family violence and substance abuse. Oppositional behaviors, depression, anxiety and ADHD, as well as asthma, are common. In a typical year, 45 percent of students see a therapist at least once.

Days at the Milton Hershey School are ultra-structured, and the adjustment to routine is often tough. In Mergitu's student home, girls wake up at 5:45 a.m. to dress, eat breakfast and do the chores that are a significant part of each student's day. All the students, even the youngest, have chores that range from mopping floors and scrubbing bathrooms to vacuuming and washing dishes. Each job is inspected by a house parent, who notes how well it was completed. That score is factored into an overall rating (which includes behavior) used to determine whether students get privileges such as computer access, later bedtimes or television.

One morning before school, Mergitu and the 11 other girls in her student home plowed their way through a breakfast of eggs, bagels and cream cheese, bacon and fruit, then rushed off to do their chores. In the green-tiled communal bathroom, one housemate scrubbed the toilets while Mergitu wiped mirrors and mopped floors. Mergitu's housemother, Kathi Burnham, found trash behind a wastebasket and ran a finger along the top of the three bathroom stalls to check for dust. She noted some smudges still on the mirrors and asked Mergitu to redo them.

Middle school classes start at 8 a.m., and several days a week, there are mandatory after-school activities. Sometimes students don't return home until close to dinner. After dinner, there's homework, chores and early bedtimes -- 8 p.m. in Mergitu's student home if you haven't earned privileges. The school has no religious affiliation, but there is mandatory, non-denominational chapel on Sundays; the school also provides transportation to local religious services. The schedule intentionally leaves very little free time.

"Our students often come from situations where they have had little discipline and structure in their life," said Johnny O'Brien, the school's president. The structure "gives them a sense of security and consistency."