What possessed a computer technologist making well over $50K at an investment firm to leave it for a $15K job working with inner-city kids?

That’s what I asked Golden Valley, MN native Matt Christenson, 42, a veteran staff member at Kaleidoscope Place serving mostly East African refugees at Lutheran Social Services’ Center for Changing Lives in Minneapolis.

As a student at Armstrong High School in Plymouth in the mid ‘80’s, Christenson was outgoing and funny and friends with jocks, dirtballs, smokers, preppies or geeks, he said. But he loved playing video games and infiltrating the world of computers with the geeks.

Yet while volunteering with kids in the community, Matt discovered an entirely non-tech passion. “I got to play with Legos and matchbox cars with kindergarteners at the Adventure Club in Golden Valley,” he said beaming. This led to work as a Recreation leader for four summers, but he had always thought of this as something to do on the side.

Christenson earned a psychology and religion degree from St. Olaf College, intending to be a counselor, but when he didn’t get accepted to graduate school, computer work was a natural fallback.

By age 30, Christenson had climbed the ladder to investment firm Piper Jaffray and a reputable position as the Tier 3 Core Technologist. “I was in charge of the operating system, hardware certification, in-depth troubleshooting, and setting all standards for documentation in the support center.” In short, a techie’s dream. “It was awesome,” he said.

Yet something was missing. Call it a calling, a deeper sense of purpose or a mission, but by age 34, in January of 2003, Christenson decided to “make room” for children by volunteering at People Serving People, a homeless shelter, and the Marie Sandvik Center on Franklin Avenue.

“I have always had a heart for the poor and homeless,” he said. But when he started playing guitar, singing, and playing games with 4-6-year-olds, “My love for these kids just exploded.”

Curly-haired and short, Christenson easily gets down to a kid’s level, bringing a rare combination of clowning, compassion, and firmness. He leads with silliness and jokes his way into a kid’s world, yet knows how to discipline and teach character along the way.

Only two months into volunteering, the unthinkable began to happen, he explained. “I was sitting at my desk at work saying, ‘God, just get me out of here. I don’t care about the next version of Internet Explorer. I don’t want to document it. I don’t want to test it.’ My heart had left my job.”

Christenson sensed this was more than his own idea. “God was growing something inside of me. I wasn’t trying to conjure anything up. It just unfolded as I stepped out.”

What happened at work in May of 2003 would have been shocking under other circumstances. “I was called into my director’s office and told my position had been cut. I said, ‘It’s OK. I’ve had a heart change. I want to make a difference in kids’ lives.’”

Not that the transition was easy, however. Christenson went home to a quiet house, and said, “Wow, this is interesting. What do I do now?”

After several calls and no available jobs at child outreaches in the city, he wrestled with questions like “Why did they lay me off?” and “What is my family going to think?” and fended off discouragement, he said.

“My dad grew up poor so naturally my parents were concerned about my financial stability. I think most people make their job decisions based on income or advancement rather than finding something they’re happy with or called to do.”

Heeding that inner voice, Christenson felt led to simply volunteer at Park Avenue Methodist Church’s summer program, and within weeks they found a way to pay him. That was the stepping stone he needed to land his current job at Kaleidoscope Place.

Today he teaches kindergartners and first graders math, reading, writing, art, science, and college readiness, “and, of course, I’m the on-site computer geek.”

But along the way he is a father to many fatherless refugee students, mostly low-income kids below the 40th percentile academically, who are struggling to make the grade.

“The number one reason I’m here is to build healthy relationships with my students. When they feel valued, cared for and loved, they gain self-esteem and confidence, and it’s the surest way to improve their academics and success in life long-term.”

Christenson begins each day by welcoming children and reminding them that they are “incredible, amazing, and special.” At first, some don’t believe him.

“One first-grade girl arrived at Kaleidoscope Place angry and upset. The first two weeks she was struggling and was in and out of the office, but every day I just reminded her that she was special and I was glad she was here. Then one day I opened the door to a big smile. She leaned into me and gave me a huge hug. A child like this can be changed forever. That’s what keeps me going.”

The work is hard and the days are long, said Christenson. “I end up fried, but
I get drawn back by the kids. The life they have in them is amazing.”

© 2012 Todd Svanoe. Unauthorized reproduction of this copyrighted material is prohibited.

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Todd can be reached via the Contact page.
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