As a teacher, I’ve had days that end in a glow – I’ve driven home from school basking in my own glory – replaying a brilliant lesson or activity that really engaged the kids. Maybe I even got to see a light bulb or two go on. What a great feeling. All the planning and effort actually paid off. They’re going to remember that for a long time, I’d think to myself.
But I also had many days that ended without any glow. With exhaustion and defeat, in fact. I remember one class in particular from 1993 that I struggled with constantly. They were absolutely the most challenging class I ever taught. That was the year someone broke into my classroom on the weekend and destroyed several of my teaching binders which represented hours and hours of preparation. Someone from that class stormed out one day and threatened to return to the school with a gun. My administrator didn’t think it was worth worrying about, and sent me back to continue teaching the class. I stood at the back of the room, away from the window in the door. Then I realized I was putting kids into the line of fire, so I returned to the front. Not a good day.
I never felt like I had done a good job with that class. By the end of the year, we were flowing along reasonably well, but I spent so much energy on the explosive dynamics in the room, that I never had enough time for individuals.
Out of the blue last month, I received an email from a student in that class. He had tracked me down to tell me that I’d made a difference in his life. And you know what he remembered? Kindness.
Somehow, my hit and miss attempts to connect with that student stayed with him. He didn’t write to reminisce about lessons or events, but to say that my kindness helped. That he got through his challenging days a little bit easier because he felt someone cared for him. And he was gracious enough not to mention how many times I blew it with that class.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: kindness is badly underrated. So go back to that class from hell and survive them. And when you get a chance to talk to them one at a time, be kind. Make mistakes and give crappy lessons when your tank is empty, but try, try to be kind. It’s the only thing they absolutely need and you never know what will stay with them as they become who they were meant to be.
Thank you, D.
Monica is the author of "Thanks for chucking that at the wall instead of me."
