In every classroom, some educators quietly dig into their own pockets—year after year—to buy pencils, paper, books, folders, glue sticks, and everything in between. They do it not for recognition, but because they believe every child deserves a fair shot at learning, no matter what they bring—or don’t bring—from home. They decorate bulletin boards late at night, print extra worksheets for students without supplies, and create a nurturing environment with limited resources and limitless compassion.

At the same time, in every neighborhood, there are children who long for more than just academic success. They need safety. They need a connection. They need a place to be themselves after the school bell rings on Friday.