I cringe when I think of how the deck is so stacked against some of my students sometimes. Between their own mental health issues, the problems at home, the lack of parenting skill and knowledge...the history of unsuccessful school experiences that lead them to feel stupid and overwhelmed by *all* of their work...I have to convince myself to zero in on the small changes and celebrate them. If I worry about all the things I can't fix, I'll go crazy.
A teacher, trying to be helpful, decided to tell me that if I didn't march my student to where he was supposed to be physically, that he would be "winning"...and I just sighed. Because I'm not fighting against my students, I'm fighting *for* them. I'm on their team. And if they can sit and calm down and open up about what they're thinking, it's more important to me than if they can be in the precise location I indicated.
I need to teach them how to make choices that are good for them. Without that ability, they're going to always need an environment controlled by others. More than anything I don't want that for them. I want them to advocate for themselves, to recognize their needs, to understand what makes them want to act the way they do and realize how to combat those instincts.
Maybe I just remember how it felt as a kid, knowing I was *so* mad, unreasonably mad, over something little. Knowing everyone around me thought it was stupid and not understanding why I couldn't let it go. I have such strong memories of fights with my brother over nothing...things that mattered so much to me that I can still feel the anger 20 years later when I think back. I know all kids think things are more important than adults might....but this was above and beyond. I know what it feels like when my students react to something with an intensity unmatched by the problem.
It's amazing to me, given how I used to be, how zen I can get with my kiddos. I've seen it all, heard it all, had it all thrown at me. I see their insults and destruction and anger and feel their anxiety and pain, like an instant translation. He's insecure and doesn't believe you like him, so he needs you to see his worst. She's worried about the situation at home and needing some extra love. He's safer ripping up his paper than giving it a try and being stupid. Someone upset him this morning and he can't explain why, but he can't focus on anything else hours later.
My biggest job is to let them know they have a safe place, where no one is judging them, everyone cares about them, and no one will hurt them. Where it's OK to take risks, make mistakes, and where I will tell them they're brave even if they fail. If we can do that, we can learn anything. If not, they're never even going to try.
