When Jessica Rankin left her children in the motel so she could go to work, she would tell them to never open the door to anybody — ever.

The Coeur d’Alene mother of five did the best she could, living paycheck to paycheck — sometimes not knowing if they had enough money to eat dinner or pay for another night in the motel.

On top of that, she’s raising a disabled child. Her 13-year-old son, Anthony, has a rare bone disease, which resulted in him losing a leg several years ago. Separated from her husband, running out of money was a constant source of worry.

And then her car broke down.

“I was living the hotel life for two years,” Rankin said. “The company I was working for eliminated my position. I couldn’t afford rent, so we lived in weekly hotels. I was doing the best I could. There were so many people struggling more than me.”

While Rankin’s story is not uncommon in North Idaho, she wonders what impact it will have on Anthony and his education.

“Living in weekly hotels takes their innocence way too early,” she said. “The kids don’t have a backyard to play in or a room to do their homework.”

Last year, 4 percent of the Coeur d’Alene School District’s 10,000 students were classified as “homeless.” Those numbers are trending up, said James Curb, the district’s liaison for the homeless.

“Currently, there are an estimated 330 students who are considered homeless by the Coeur d’Alene School District,” Curb said. “I would expect our number to continue to go up this year.”

To help address the problem, the Coeur d’Alene School District receives funding from the McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act, for children who lack a fixed, regular, adequate nighttime residence. The $25,000 grant helps the district identify at-risk students, provides them resources, such as transportation for students and helps fund two community outreach workers.

But what does being homeless in North Idaho really mean? Some people think of people living under bridges, or mentally ill people pushing shopping carts filled with their belongings.

The reality for local students is far more complex and hidden. They’re sleeping in hotels, motels and cars, bouncing from wherever their parents can find a place to sleep for the night.

“The vast majority of students are doubled up with friends and relatives,” Curb said. “That’s a positive thing because it speaks to the resilience of North Idaho families.”

Those unstable living conditions come at a price. Research suggests that transient living traumatizes children, Curb said.

“The instability breeds anxiety and is a distraction of focus,” he said. “Kids are worried about their basic needs, food, shelter. It challenges the classroom environment to be effective when a child is hungry or stressed about their living situation.”

Winton Elementary School Counselor Ronnie Semko has dealt with many homeless students throughout her 23-year career. She said parents can hide the fact they’re living in motels or in vehicles.

“One of the indicators is that the student’s clothes are unwashed, or they will tell their teacher that they left their homework in the motel,” Semko said. “Once we know, we can talk to the parents about getting them resources. Most are receptive to this.”

Semko said many times, domestic violence and divorce have led to unstable housing, which often comes to a head in March.

“A lot of landlords will wait until the weather warms up before serving eviction notices,” Semko said. “Every situation is different, but through the McKinney-Vento Act, stability can be provided for every student. School is the stable thing.”

The truth is that many parents are ashamed when they become homeless.

“You feel trapped in a vicious cycle,” Rankin said, adding that people’s negative stereotypes about being homeless are painful.

“People think we’re drug addicts or alcoholics because we live in a hotel,” she said. “The majority of what I saw living this way is that most people are not. We’re not lazy or mentally unstable. We’re doing the best we can.”

What that means for academic achievement is still being studied, but according to Semko, some students thrive academically in conditions that are unimaginable.

“There are three kids, two dogs and a cat all living in a car,” she said. “One of the students was reading books in the car with a lamp. Some are able to overcome these things and others really struggle. It just depends so much on the individual student.”

Educators with students from unstable living situations can help by attempting to connect their parents or guardians with community resources, such as Family Promise or St. Vincent de Paul of North Idaho.

Those are short-term solutions. Part of the bigger picture of student homelessness is the lack of rental options in Kootenai County.

“The data we’ve received is that less than 1 percent of the rental pool is available and the cost of rent is going up, sometimes between 20 percent and 30 percent,” said Curb. “Rents that were $600 a month are now $900 a month.”

Jeff Conroy, St. Vincent de Paul of North Idaho’s executive director, said people with full-time jobs are becoming homeless through no fault of their own.

“Working homeless is something we’re seeing a lot more of,” Conroy said. “They can’t afford to live.”

To meet the demand for temporary housing, St. Vincent de Paul converted the front of its Men’s Emergency Shelter into two small rooms for children.

“Right now we have three families in there,” Conroy said.

One of those families ended up in the family emergency shelter while doing the best they could.

“A young father and his young son were sleeping in their car,” Conroy said. “The police came by and checked on them. They looked at the registration, and the father had bought the car from a friend, but the title wasn’t clean and so the car was impounded.”

St. Vincent de Paul provides other short-term solutions, such as money for short stays in a motel or coordinating with other nonprofits to find housing for families.

“These families are in crisis,” Conroy said. “Our goal is to map things out for them and keep them safe and warm.”

Rankin’s situation finally improved, just in time for the holidays.

“This was the first Christmas in two years that we were able to celebrate in a home,” she said. “It was pretty special. But it’s still a balancing act. It’s hard.”