Four simple words hang prominently in Dr. Mike Bleyle's classroom at Jenier Elementary: Struggle. Learn. Adjust. Succeed.

This mantra isn't just decorative—it's the heartbeat of an extraordinary STEM program that defies expectations in this small Illinois town. But nothing about Momence or its educational pioneers follows the expected script.

"What I love about the community here more than anything else is it's a family," says Dr. Bleyle, a hometown product who has spent 19 years teaching at Je-Neir. "We're like a nice little, slightly dysfunctional family," he adds with a laugh. “I can relate,” I think to myself.

That family now includes kindergartners designing 3D models, first-graders coding robots, and fourth-graders analyzing physics principles—accomplishments that surprise visitors to this rural community.

"People are just like, 'No, they're low income. We're a high poverty rate. We're [similar in that respect to an] urban school community.' But these kids, any opportunity you can give them, they take it," Dr. Bleyle explains, his pride evident. "By the time they get out of kindergarten, they understand 3D printing, they understand physics, they understand robotics."

The journey to this educational innovation began seven years ago when a principal handed Bleyle, then a fourth-grade teacher, some robots with a simple directive: "Have fun."

What followed was a learning experience for both teacher and students. "I had no idea what I was doing," Bleyle admits. "I was a day ahead of the kids, if not a day behind the kids."

That humble beginning has transformed into a comprehensive K-4 STEM program that includes robotics competitions, 3D printing, an Indianapolis 500 education program featuring miniature soapbox derbies, and much more. Every student at Jenier participates in these "specials" for 45 minutes each day.

Standing well over six feet tall, Dr. Bleyle's physical presence could be intimidating to young students. But after a week in his classroom, that impression vanishes. "They don't see me that way," he says. "They're like, 'Okay, this guy's nice.' The intimidating factor goes away."

The program emphasizes more than technical skills. "In our class, 70% of our grade is communication," notes Bleyle. "I don't care about a finished product. I want you to learn to work together. If you don't like each other, I don't care. Work together. Give me a product."

This focus on collaboration prepares students for future challenges in an increasingly technological world. While they may be exhausted after 45 minutes of intensive thinking—"Dr. Bleyle, I'm tired," they'll say—they're developing critical skills that will serve them well beyond elementary school.

"They understand the thinking process," Bleyle explains. "Whether or not they understand inertia or anything like that's secondary. But as long as they know how to think."

His teaching philosophy embraces independence and problem-solving. "First two weeks, I'll show you what I need to do, how to do things. Then for the next three weeks, it's all you. Your team. If you're really stuck, then come see me."

Bleyle's personal journey reflects the opportunities he creates for his students. After a high school guidance counselor told him he wasn't "smart enough" for college, he not only earned his bachelor's degree but went on to complete a master's and doctorate as well.

"I don't care where people tell you can or cannot do this," he says. "It's all about you. It's all about your drive. It's about what you want to do. You're capable of more than people think."

This belief in unlimited potential shows in his approach to selecting students for special projects like the robotics team. "I don't want to show up with all your high kids. I don't want the high kids because they're smart. I want thinkers," he emphasizes. The team includes students from diverse backgrounds and abilities, with an affordable $25 entry fee that includes a t-shirt and after-school meals.

The impact extends beyond the classroom. Two years ago, Bleyle's robotics team organized a toy drive that collected 250 gifts for local children. With a community member dressed as Santa Claus, they delivered two vans full of presents to a youth center.

"The smiles we got out of 95% of those kids were priceless," Bleyle recalls. "That's what it's all about."

Momence's unique demographics—unusually diverse for a rural community—contribute to its strength. "If you look at our demographics, you'd assume we're on the lower south side of Chicago," Bleyle notes. "If you look where we're at, it makes no sense."

Yet this diversity has become the community's superpower. Like oriented strand board that gains strength from fragments of wood pointing in different directions, Momence draws resilience from its varied perspectives and backgrounds.

As Dr. Bleyle watches his students tackle challenges, collaborate across differences, and grow into confident problem-solvers, he sees the future taking shape. Tomorrow's innovators are already building, coding, designing—and most importantly, thinking their way toward success—right here in Momence.