ATLANTA (AP) 鈥� It was the worst summer in years. Sechita McNair鈥檚 family took no vacations. Her younger boys didn鈥檛 go to camp. Her van was repossessed, and her family nearly got 鈥� again.
But she accomplished the one thing she wanted most. A few weeks before school started, McNair, an out-of-work film industry veteran barely getting by driving for Uber, signed a lease in the right Atlanta neighborhood so her eldest son could stay at his high school.
As she pulled up outside the school on the first day, Elias, 15, stepped onto the curb in his new basketball shoes and cargo pants. She inspected his face, noticed wax in his ears and grabbed a package of baby wipes from her rental car. She wasn鈥檛 about to let her eldest, with his young Denzel Washington looks, go to school looking 鈥済ross.鈥�
He grimaced and broke away.
鈥淣o kiss? No hugs?鈥� she called out.
Elias waved and kept walking. Just ahead of him, at least for the moment, sat something his mother had fought relentlessly for: a better education.
The link between where you live and where you learn
Last year, McNair and her three kids were evicted from their beloved apartment in the rapidly gentrifying Old Fourth Ward neighborhood of Atlanta. Like many evicted families, they went from living in a school district that to one that spends less.
Thanks to federal laws protecting , her kids were able to keep attending their Atlanta schools, even though the only housing available to them was in another county 40 minutes away. They also had the right to free transportation to those schools, but McNair says the district didn’t tell her about that until the school year ended. Their eligibility to remain in those schools expired at the end of last school year.
Still wounded by the death of his father and multiple housing displacements, Elias failed two classes last year, his freshman year. Switching schools now, McNair fears, would jeopardize any chance he has of recovering his academic life. 鈥淚 need this child to be stable,鈥� she says.
With just one week before school started, McNair drove extra Uber hours, borrowed money, secured rental assistance and ignored concerns about the apartment to rent a three-bedroom in the Old Fourth Ward. At $2,200 a month, it was the only 鈥渟emi-affordable鈥� apartment in the rapidly ward that would rent to a single mom with a fresh eviction on her record.
On Zillow, the second-floor apartment, built in 2005, looked like a middle-class dream with its granite countertops, crown molding and polished wood floors. But up close, the apartment looked abused and held secrets McNair was only beginning to uncover.
The first sign something was wrong came early. When she first toured the apartment, it felt rushed, like the agent didn鈥檛 want her to look too closely. Then, even as they told her she was accepted, the landlord and real estate agent wouldn鈥檛 send her a 鈥渨elcome letter鈥� laying out the agreement, the rent and deposit she would pay. It seemed like they didn鈥檛 want to put anything in writing.
When the lease came, it was full of errors. She signed it anyway. 鈥淲e鈥檙e back in the neighborhood!鈥� she said. Elias could return to Midtown High School.
But even in their triumph, no one in the family could relax. Too many things were uncertain. And it fell to McNair 鈥� and only McNair 鈥� to figure it out.
The first day back
Midtown is a high school so coveted that school administrators investigate student residency throughout the year to keep out kids from other parts of Atlanta and beyond. For McNair, the day Elias returned to the high school was a momentous one.
鈥淔reedom!鈥� McNair declared after Elias disappeared into the building. over the summer, McNair had struggled to find time to work enough to make ends meet. Now that the kids were back in class, McNair could spend school hours making money and resolving some of the unsettled issues with her new apartment.
McNair, the first person in her family to attend college, studied theater management. Her job rigging stage sets was lucrative until the and other changes paralyzed the film industry in 2023. The scarcity of work on movie sets, combined with her tendency to take in family and non-family alike, wrecked her home economy.
The family was evicted last fall when McNair fell behind on rent because of funeral expenses for her foster daughter. The teen girl died from an epileptic seizure while McNair and everyone else slept. Elias found her body.
McNair attributes some of Elias鈥檚 lack of motivation at school to personal trauma. His father died after a heart attack in 2023, on the sidelines of Elias鈥檚 basketball practice.
On his first day back at school this August, Elias appeared excited but tentative. He watched as the seniors swanned into school wearing gold cardboard crowns, a Midtown back-to-school tradition, and scanned the sidewalk for anyone familiar.
If Elias had his way, his mom would homeschool him. She鈥檚 done it before. But now that he鈥檚 a teenager, it鈥檚 harder to get Elias to follow her instructions. As the only breadwinner supporting three kids and her disabled uncle, she has to work.
Elias hid from the crowds and called up a friend: 鈥淲here you at?鈥� The friend, another sophomore, was still en route. Over the phone, they compared outfits, traded gossip about who got a new hairdo or transferred. When Elias鈥檚 friend declared this would be the year he鈥檇 get a girlfriend, Elias laughed.
When it was time to go in, Elias drifted toward the door with his head down as other students flooded past.
The after-school pickup
Hours later, he emerged. Despite everything McNair had done to help it go well 鈥� securing the apartment, even spending hundreds of dollars on new clothes for him 鈥� Elias slumped into the backseat when she picked him up after class.
鈥淪chool was so boring,鈥� he said.
鈥淲hat happened?鈥� McNair asked.
鈥淣othing, bro. That was the problem,鈥� Elias said. 鈥淚 thought I was going to be happy when school started, since summer was so horrible.鈥�
Of all of the classes he was taking 鈥� geometry, gym, French, world history, environmental science 鈥� only gym interested him. He wished he could take art classes, he said. Elias has acted in some commercials and television programs, but chose a science and math concentration, hoping to study finance someday.
After dinner at Chick-fil-A, the family visited the city library one block from their new apartment. While McNair spoke to the librarian, the boys explored the children鈥檚 section. Malachi, 6, watched a YouTube video on a library computer while Derrick, 7, flipped through a book. Elias sat in a corner, sharing video gaming tips with a stranger he met online.
鈥淭hose people are learning Japanese,鈥� said McNair, pointing to a group of adults sitting around a cluster of tables. 鈥淎nd this library lets you check out museum passes. This is why we have to be back in the city. Resources!鈥�
McNair wants her children to go to well-resourced schools. Atlanta spends nearly $20,000 per student a year, $7,000 more than the district they moved to after the eviction. More money in schools means smaller classrooms and more psychologists, guidance counselors and other support.
But McNair, who grew up in New Jersey near New York City, also sees opportunities in the wider city of Atlanta. She wants to use its libraries, e-scooters, bike paths, hospitals, rental assistance agencies, Buy Nothing groups and food pantries.
鈥淭hese are all resources that make it possible to raise a family when you don鈥檛 have support,” she said. “Wouldn鈥檛 anyone want that?鈥�
Support is hard to come by
On the way home, the little boys fall asleep in the back seat. Elias asks, 鈥淪o, is homeschooling off the table?鈥�
McNair doesn鈥檛 hesitate. 鈥淗eck yeah. I鈥檓 not homeschooling you,鈥� she says lightly. 鈥淒o you see how much of a financial bind I鈥檓 in?鈥濃��
McNair pulls into the driveway in Jonesboro, the suburb where the family landed after their eviction. Even though the family wants to live in Atlanta, their stuff is still here. It鈥檚 a neighborhood of brick colonials and manicured lawns. She realizes it鈥檚 the dream for some families, but not hers. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a support desert.鈥�
As they get out of the car, Elias takes over as parent-in-charge. 鈥淕et all of your things,鈥� he directs Malachi and Derrick, who scowl as Elias seems to relish bossing them around. 鈥淧ick up your car seats, your food, those markers. I don鈥檛 want to see anything left behind.鈥� Elias would be responsible for making the boys burritos, showering them and putting them to sleep.
McNair heads out to drive for Uber. That鈥檚 what is necessary to pay $450 a week to rent the car and earn enough to pay her rent and bills.
But while McNair is out, she can鈥檛 monitor Elias. And a few days after he starts school, Elias鈥檚 all-night gaming habit has already drawn teachers鈥� attention.
鈥淚 wanted to check in regarding Elias,鈥� his geometry teacher writes during the first week of school. 鈥淗e fell asleep multiple times during Geometry class this morning.鈥�
Elias had told the teacher he went to bed around 4 a.m. the night before. 鈥淚 understand that there may be various reasons for this, and I鈥檇 love to work together to support Elias so he can stay focused and successful in class.鈥�
A few days later, McNair gets a similar email from his French teacher.
That night, McNair drives around Atlanta, trying to pick up enough Uber trips to keep her account active. But she can鈥檛 stop thinking about the emails. 鈥淚 should be home making sure Elias gets to bed on time,鈥� she says, crying. 鈥淏ut I have to work. I鈥檓 the only one paying the bills.鈥�
Obstacles keep popping up
Ever since McNair rented the Atlanta apartment, her bills had doubled. She wasn’t sure when she’d feel safe giving up the house she’d been renting in Clayton County, given the problems with the Atlanta apartment. For starters, she was not even sure it was safe to spend the night there.
A week after school started in August, McNair dropped by the apartment to check whether the landlords had made repairs. At the very least, she wanted more smoke detectors.
She also wanted them to replace the door, which looked like someone had forced it open with a crowbar. She wanted a working fridge and oven. She wanted them to secure the back door to the adjoining empty apartment, which appeared to be open and made her wonder if there were pests or even people squatting there.
But on this day, her keys didn鈥檛 work.
She called 911. Had her new landlords deliberately locked her out?
When the police showed up outside the olive-green, Craftsman-style fourplex, McNair scrolled through her phone to find a copy of her lease. Then McNair and the officer eyed a man walking up to the property. 鈥淭he building was sold in a short sale two weeks ago,鈥� he told McNair. The police officer directed the man to give the new keys to McNair.
The next day, McNair started getting emails from an agent specializing in foreclosures, suggesting the new owners wanted McNair to leave. 鈥淭he bank owns the property and now you are no longer a tenant of the previous owner,鈥� she wrote. The new owner 鈥渕ight鈥� offer relocation assistance if McNair agreed to leave.
McNair consulted attorneys, who reassured her: It might be uncomfortable, but she could stay. She needed to try to pay rent, even if the new owner didn鈥檛 accept it.
So McNair messaged the agent, asking where she should send the rent, and requested the company make necessary repairs. Eventually, the real estate agent stopped responding.
Some problems go away, but others emerge
Finally, McNair moved her kids and a few items from the Jonesboro house to the Atlanta apartment. She didn鈥檛 allow Elias to bring his video game console to Atlanta. He started going to bed around 11 p.m. most nights. But even as she solved that problem, others emerged.
It was at Midtown鈥檚 back-to-school night in September that McNair learned Elias was behind in most of his classes. Some teachers said maybe Midtown wasn’t the right school for Elias.
Perhaps they were right, McNair thought. She鈥檇 heard similar things before.
Elias also . He skipped one day, then another. McNair panicked. In Georgia, parents can be sent to jail for truancy when their kids miss five unexcused days.
McNair started looking into a homeschooling program run by a mother she follows on Facebook. In the meantime, she emailed and called some Midtown staff for advice. She says she didn鈥檛 get a response. Finally, seven weeks after the family鈥檚 triumphant return to Midtown, McNair filed papers declaring her intention to homeschool Elias.
It quickly proved challenging. Elias wouldn鈥檛 do any schoolwork when he was home alone. And when the homeschooling group met twice a week, she discovered, they required parents to pick up their children afterward instead of allowing them to take public transit or e-scooters. That was untenable.
Elias wanted to stay at home and offered to take care of McNair鈥檚 uncle, who has dementia. 鈥淭hat was literally killing my soul the most,鈥� said McNair. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 not a child鈥檚 job.鈥�
Hell, no, she told him 鈥� you only get one chance at high school.
Then, one day, while she was loading the boys鈥� clothes into the washing machine at the Atlanta apartment, she received a call from an unknown Atlanta number. It was the woman who heads Atlanta Public Schools鈥� virtual program, telling her the roster was full.
McNair asked the woman for her opinion on Elias鈥檚 situation. Maybe she should abandon the Atlanta apartment and enroll him in the Jonesboro high school.
Let me stop you right there, the woman said. Is your son an athlete? If he transfers too many times, it can affect his ability to play basketball. And he鈥檇 probably lose credits and take longer to graduate. He needs to be in school 鈥� preferably Midtown 鈥� studying for midterms, she said. You need to put on your 鈥渂ig mama drawers鈥� and take him back, she told McNair.
The next day, Elias and his mother pulled up to Midtown. Outside the school, Elias asked if he had to go inside. Yes, she told him. This is your fault as much as it鈥檚 mine.
Now, with Elias back in school every day, McNair can deliver food through Uber Eats without worrying about a police officer asking why her kid isn鈥檛 in school. If only she had pushed harder, sooner, for help with Elias, she thought. 鈥淚 should have just gone down to the school and sat in their offices until they talked to me.”
But it was easy for her to explain why she hadn鈥檛. 鈥淚 was running around doing so many other things just so we have a place to live, or taking care of my uncle, that I didn鈥檛 put enough of my energy there.鈥�
She wishes she could pay more attention to Elias. But so many things are pulling at her. And as fall marches toward winter, her struggle continues. After failing to keep up with the Jonesboro rent, she’s preparing to leave that house before the landlord sends people to haul her possessions to the curb.
As an Uber driver, she has picked up a few traumatized mothers with their children after they got evicted. She helped them load the few things they could fit into her van. As they drove off, onlookers scavenged the leftovers.
She has promised herself she鈥檇 never let that happen to her kids.
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