I walked into my Assistant Principal’s office the other day and waited patiently for her to finish her phone call before speaking with her. While I waited, I noticed the middle schooler sitting at a desk in the corner spending time for lunch detention. She was pounding away on her desk while the Assistant Principal was on the phone. I asked her why she had to be so rude. She glared at me and kept on drumming away. I told her to get up from the desk and stand a few steps away on the wall. She did and then leaned over and hit the desk a few more times; my guess is to show that she was going to win. I looked at her and shared my opinion of the stellar choices she was making, and she told me she didn’t care. By this time, my Assistant Principal had finished her conversation, so I grabbed what I needed from her and left.
Later on, I found myself back down at the office checking in with my Principal. I noticed that the student had now moved out of the Assistant Principal’s office and into the main hall near the office. After my conversation with my Principal, I walked by the student, tapped her on the arm and said, “I know you probably don’t think so, but I care about you.” She replied, “You don’t even know me.” To that I replied, “Why do I need to know you to care about you?” I then walked away.
I work in a building with over 600 students. It is nearly impossible for me to know them all. However, I am very well known by nearly all of the students. Some students I see only a couple of times a year, other students I see everyday. What I’m trying to say is that it can be very difficult to get to know every student in my building. That, however, does not change the fact that I care for each one of them.
When a student who is having a rough time making good choices is told that they are cared about, and they respond with, “You don’t even know me,” that tells me that that student doesn’t believe they are worth being cared for. When their world starts to crumble and fall apart, they have a hard time feeling cared for, or better yet, accepting that they are cared for. This is where it is essential that we let our students know that they are cared about, whether we know them or not.
This can be hard when you are the person dealing with the behavior of a difficult student. I get it. It’s hard to care when you are being shown egregious disrespect. It’s hard to care when they take what you say and throw it out the window. It’s hard to care when they are threatening you. But we need to remember that they are hurting, and they don’t know how to deal with their pain. All it takes is a calm and caring word to de-escalate most situations. There is a great proverb that says, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
It is vital that we are showing students that we care about them, whether we know them or not. There was a great teacher in my building that when he walked the halls, he would always say “Hi” to every student he passed. He would give them a big smile and just say “Hi”. I learned a lot just watching him perform the simple act of saying “Hi”. When he left my building, I found myself picking up where he left off. I made it a point to say “Hi” to every student I passed in the hallway. Six years later, and it has become a part of who I am. Saying “Hi” has led to some pretty great conversations with students. Ultimately, I want students to know that I see them, and that they are cared about.
We need to build a culture in our buildings where students never have to wonder if they are cared about. Every teacher should take the extra step and speak life into students. It doesn’t matter if they are in your classroom or not. Take a moment to say “Hi” and let them know that you care about them. Our students need to know that they are cared about whether we know them or not.
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