Meet Them Where They Are
I had more than a few hard-to-reach students in my class this past year, and they all lived in the same apartment complex. I decided to hold a "homework help" session at the complex. I brought snacks and supplies, and we sat together to do homework, read books, and practice spelling words every week. I always walked my students back to their apartments and often ran into other kids, parents, and neighbors along the way. Eventually, the older kids started coming for homework help, too. I realized it wasn't really about getting homework done. It was about me consistently showing them that I am all in, and I expected them to be, too.
—Cindy Siple, 2nd grade teacher, Conroe Independent School District, Conroe, Texas
Infinite Potential
He came to my class, schedule change in hand. I hadn't met him, but I knew his name well. He was the kid who had been thrown out of every class and spent most of his time suspended. I stopped him at the door, took a deep breath, and told him, "We need to chat before you enter." It went something like this:
"We both know your history, so let's just be upfront. Whatever you've done is in the past; you were young, immature, and made some poor choices. That is behind you, and this is a new year. I am thrilled to have you in my class. My expectations are not for perfection, but for growth. Each day is a new day, and we're going to have a great year together."
Every day, I welcomed him. During the first quarter, he behaved but did no work. We made him a cabinet with supplies that he could access all day. He began participating in class and doing some work, but he would throw it away before leaving the room. In the second quarter, he was suspended again and consequently got an F.
In the third quarter, I showed him that if he did this one assignment, he could pass the class. He not only did the assignment, but he also did A+ work. I called home! He consistently turned in superior work after this—earning top student honors and more positive calls home. When he had issues elsewhere, he came to my room—his safe, welcome home at school.
We had many conversations that year revolving around my acceptance of him, his potential, and how he could achieve it. He left for high school with a newfound sense of who he might become.
—Laura Von Staden, exceptional student education lead teacher, Franklin Boys Preparatory Academy, Hillsborough County Public Schools, Tampa, Florida
Celebrate Successes
I recall a time when I was a fresh-faced, beginning teacher wanting to make a difference in a challenging, low socioeconomic school on the east coast of New Zealand. The students in my class had become disengaged because of a series of negative experiences and a lack of ownership. Parents were difficult to contact and rarely contributed to discussions about their children.
One particular child was extremely negative toward school and often found himself in the office having a "chat" with the deputy. I made it my mission to celebrate success with the student's family and to call home daily to provide feedback about his day. After a number of weeks, I received a call from his grandmother thanking me for the impact I was making on her mokopuna (grandchild). The student's attitude about school had changed. He felt like he belonged and was valued, he arrived on time, and he was present during class activities. Although he didn't progress academically as well as his peers did that term, I know I made a real difference in his life.
—Luke Arrandale, relieving assistant principal, Bangor Primary School, Sydney, Australia
A Chance Encounter
Upon arriving at my new assignment as assistant principal, I was warned about Charles. He was in 4th grade, an English language learner, and a special education student who struggled with reading comprehension and basic math. His customs and cultural norms caused some conflict with others. I attempted the usual approaches, but quickly learned that they would not work. He showed the teachers—and me—a very negative attitude when he struggled in class and engaged in disruptive behaviors.
While out for a run before school one day, I noticed Charles waving and smiling from his bus stop. I went over to talk to him as he waited for the bus. We talked about why I was running and why he was at the bus stop so early. That one encounter opened the door for conversation. On mornings when I did not run, he would be upset. And when I didn't see him, we talked about why he was late—usually because of his sister. From that point forward, Charles was willing to work with me and his teachers.
—A. V. Torregano, assistant principal, P. C. Lujan Elementary School, Barrigada, Guam
Reaching Every Child
I've heard this phrase a lot: "hard to reach." My experience has confirmed the contrary. Highly skilled, well-prepared teachers reach every child.
One of my 1st graders last year walked into my classroom already labeled a "problem child." He had severe ADHD. At 6 years old, he was already falling behind.
Writing was a particularly tough skill for him. When I gave him a writing task, he would get up, move around, dance in his seat—basically anything but complete the assignment.
To help him succeed, I knew I had to adjust my instruction to keep him focused. This involved getting to know his interests. Through this relationship building, I personalized his learning. When we practiced writing summaries, I gave him texts about spiders or superheroes. I designed activities that suited his energetic nature. Rather than trying to get him to sit still and complete a writing assignment, I made books with him. This hands-on task allowed him to learn important skills he would otherwise resist.
He wasn't a "problem child." As his teacher, I just needed to figure out the right way to reach him and get him on a path to success.
—Jessica Cisneros, 1st grade teacher, Two Rivers Public Charter School, Washington, DC
An Unspoken Bond
One of my students often missed school, and when he did come, he refused to participate. He also regularly found himself in trouble. I tried to learn as much about him as I could, but he didn't want to share much. I decided to call or send a message to his home at least three times each week. The messages ranged from, "It was a pleasure having you in class today" to "I hope you are OK because we haven't seen you in a few days."
The next year, I transferred to a different school. Much to my surprise, the student did, too. I was the only teacher he would talk to; he even came to my class daily to eat lunch with me—albeit in silence. We never discussed the phone calls home.
—Kristen Mercurio, reading coach, Veterans Park Academy School District of Lee County, Lehigh Acres, Florida
Patience Is Key
"I hate it here," were his first words to me. He was in my advisory period, a 20-minute class period for students to work with a teacher and finish homework.
I put on my best early morning, "plastic" smile and replied, "I am sorry, but here you are, so let's see what we can do while you're here."
For the next few months, we started every school day together. We found we had some things in common, and we began to work through problems that arose from his forced move to an unfamiliar community and school. His grades started to improve. As we built a more trusting relationship, the plastic smile gave way to something real; it was replaced by genuine respect. When the student left, he commented, "I still hate it here, but you're OK." My principal calls it "success 20 minutes at a time." Sometimes it is.
—John Tierney, teacher, Elko County School District, Elko, Nevada
Breaking Down Walls
My first year as an administrator, I encountered a young lady who was different from most. She had serious trials in her personal life, and, as a result, she had built a tough exterior. She rapidly captured the attention of students and teachers. She was sent to the office frequently and made it abundantly clear that she wasn't concerned about being suspended. I welcomed the challenge to break down this wall, and I never gave up on her. I knew that too many people had already done that.
I worked on assignments with her, complimented her, and whenever she talked, I listened. Don't get me wrong, this was not easy, but things turned around. She began to return my greetings with smiles and hellos, which eventually transformed into hugs. Her office visits dwindled, and her behavior began to change. The attention she sought was now being offered in a different way. Beneath the surface, she deserved what every kid needs—a caring adult.
—Cheryl Wilson, assistant principal, Richland County School District One, Columbia, South Carolina
Never Give Up
Failure is not an option in my classroom. But I questioned that theory this past school year. I had a student who arrived midyear from another country. She sat in my classroom and did absolutely nothing. She constantly got into trouble both at home and at school. She was absent most days, but even when she came to school, she would not perform. I met with her, her parents, administration, and teachers, and even offered alternative assignments—but still, nothing. Finally, I told her, "I care about you too much to let you fail. I will not give up on you." She admitted that she was being defiant because she missed her home. She also said that she did not want to fail either.
I required her to come in every day at lunch time for tutoring. I placed her on a student support team and set interventions for her growth. I met bimonthly with her and her parents. I talked to her about her sadness of leaving a place she loved and reassured her that it was OK to be upset about it. I simply showed her that she mattered. Before long, this student who had Ds and Fs had straight As in all of her classes. The best part was that this student got accepted into a magnet high school for the following academic year.
—Kelisa Wing, 8th grade language arts teacher, Faith Middle School, Fort Benning, Georgia
A Lasting Impression
She sat at the back of the room in the last row. After our first class, she shared with me that she could only attend the first 45 minutes of class each week. I explained to her that this was not a great idea because I feared she would miss too much material. So I helped her enroll in the online section. She returned the next week and told me she needed the face-to-face experience; she switched back. One day after class, she lingered in the classroom and shared with me that her son was very ill. I listened. I invited her to my office for tea.
A few weeks later, she stopped by to hand in an assignment. She was very sick and running a high fever, so I encouraged her to get home as soon as possible. I asked if she had someone to help her at home. After that day, I began posting more comments to her online, such as, "It is great having you in class!" Weeks after graduation, she was the only student to write me, asking to please send her the selfie we had taken together.
—Nina Dulabaum, professor, Sauk Valley Community College, Dixon, Illinois
Great Expectations
Eric was a 5th grader in my class who had an emotional disturbance and learning disability. He was persistently in trouble at school and extremely argumentative with everyone. The first time I tried to hold an independent reading conference with him, he wouldn't even look at the text, saying he couldn't and wouldn't read. I asked if I could read to him. Eric appeared shocked. I read to him and asked if we could read again; he agreed. Over time he began to talk to me more about books. Finally, he asked if he could read to me. He read, I told him what he did well, and I gave him one goal. Eric eventually participated in reading activities with minimal hesitation and progressed several reading levels in one school year.
As an 8th grader, Eric often came to see me after school. One day, I was talking with a current student about how we would keep trying. Eric heard part of the conversation, and I will never forget what he said to the student: "Hey, she means it. She expects you to get whatever it is."
—Andrea Flower, educational consultant/teacher coach, Academic and Behavioral Interventions, Greater New York, New York
It All Started with a Simple Smile
It began with a smile every day when I saw him. A smile was all he could handle because talking to the new principal was not cool in his circle. From there, it progressed to a simple "hi." Soon he could publically acknowledge me, and he reciprocated the gesture. The last two months of the school year, I saw him in the morning and told him I was so happy he was at school. It took a couple weeks, but I finally got an "I am happy to be here"—with a full grin.
—Sarah Manzo, principal, Lake Orion Community Schools, Lake Orion, Michigan
Three Important Words
About 15 years ago, I had a particularly challenging 5th grade class with both high- and low-achieving students. One particular student could read only a few basic sight words, but we worked together so he made progress that year. One of my favorite moments was Valentine's Day. This special student didn't utter a word. He simply smiled at me, grabbed a package from his mom, and handed me a box of chocolates. No words—just a smile. I know that purchase was a sacrifice.
Although the curriculum is critical, a real education involves so much more than a checklist of standards. I leave you with three words: instruction, passion, and balance. It's what I learned that year; it's what I seek each year.
—Clarissa Haymon, literacy coach, Williamson County Schools, Franklin, Tennessee
See the Child's Perspective
My first year teaching, I had a small group of students who were labeled emotionally handicapped, including a 5th grade girl prone to fist fights. My first breakthrough with her was when she got suspended for punching a girl in the face. I told her the truth—that I couldn't believe she was the first person to punch that girl. I'll never forget the way she looked at me when I said that. Of course, we went on to talk about better ways of handling anger and frustration, but I think for the first time in school, she felt understood instead of judged. Be honest with your students, be quick to counsel, and be slow to judge.
—Donna Terrell, teacher, Hillsborough County Public Schools, Lithia, Florida
Maturity Matters
Several years ago when I taught a literacy skills class, a bright young man with an edge was scheduled for my class. He was never outright disrespectful; his behavior was more subtle—under-his-breath comments, eye rolls, and attempts to get others off task. No matter how often I tried to talk with him, he wouldn't listen. He was also in my homeroom—and would be for the next three years.
In his junior year, I noticed a change. One Sunday, he preached a sermon at his church. He revealed, "When I got to high school, I wasn't ready for it. I thought it would be easy, but I had to study. I didn't like to study. I wanted to play video games and stuff. So I got down on my knees and prayed for the situation. And this year, my grades are looking good. I'm completing my assignments."
By his senior year, he became a homeroom leader. Whether it was maturity or divine intervention, he grew up and grew humble.
—Peg Grafwallner, instructional coach/reading specialist, Ronald Reagan IB High School, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
