In elementary school, I (Nita) was a struggling learner placed in a classroom of high-achieving students. My mother wanted me in the “gifted and talented” classroom with the teacher who taught my older sister. She loved that teacher, and so did my sister. However, there was a problem—I wasn’t labeled “gifted and talented” because I didn’t meet the required criteria. I had to work hard for the B’s and C’s I made. Learning was a struggle for me, especially in the areas of reading and math. Still, my mother was persistent. She requested a meeting with Mrs. Poledor, the coveted 5th grade teacher.
In the meeting, I hid behind my mother, fidgety and quiet, while they discussed my learning. Then Mrs. Poledor looked at my mother and said, “Don’t worry, Mrs. DeWitt, I will take care of your baby. She will be in my classroom, and I will get her the help that she needs to be a stronger reader and mathematician.” Those words—I will take care of your baby—have stayed with me ever since.
Mrs. Poledor stayed true to her words. I got the help that I needed and was pulled out for small groups in math and reading. Getting pulled from the “gifted” class for intervention was humiliating at times, but Mrs. Poledor was my person; I trusted her and the relationship we built. She checked in on me, pushed me, and gave me the support that I needed to thrive—not only academically, but also socially and emotionally. I wanted to do well for myself and for Mrs. Poledor.
For struggling learners, connection unlocks engagement—and engagement drives growth. Relationships are the glue for academic, social, and emotional success; but in the rush of daily demands, even the most committed teachers can lose sight of what Mrs. Poledor never forgot.
When educators build, maintain, and restore relationships intentionally, struggling learners become empowered. That’s what happened to me. I went from feeling disconnected to telling and showing myself, my mother, and my teacher, “I can do this.”
From Understanding to Action
My story as a struggling learner started years before Mrs. Poledor. Between 2nd and 4th grade, I heard the same words at every parent-teacher conference: “unmotivated,” “apathetic,” “slow learner.” My 4th grade teacher even wanted to hold me back. The real problem? I couldn’t see the board. I’d spent years squinting from the back of the classroom—all because I needed glasses.
Until 5th grade, I didn’t have strong connections with my teachers. They didn’t lean into their curiosity to understand the “why” behind the “what” of my learning struggles. Now, as an educator myself, I recognize what Mrs. Poledor instinctively understood—and what my earlier teachers missed. Connecting with struggling learners requires several deliberate shifts:
1. Move away from deficit labels to student stories and contexts.
If you find yourself using a deficit label to identify a student, ask yourself, “What’s their story? What’s the context?” For example, when a student cracks jokes during a lesson, don’t assume they’re being disruptive—pull them aside later to understand what was behind the behavior. That “class clown” might actually be using humor as a shield against peers who’ve repeatedly mocked their academic struggles, choosing to either “act out” or “opt out” rather than risk more ridicule.
Deficit language hurts students. We have to reframe our focus from what students lack to what they possess, such as their cultural knowledge, skills, and unique experiences. This shift requires self-reflection and the use of humanizing language that fosters an asset-based mindset and increases student self-efficacy.
I heard the same words at every parent-teacher conference: 'unmotivated,' 'apathetic,' 'slow learner.'
2. Understand how disconnection shows up academically and behaviorally.
Educators must slow down to recognize when students disengage—through lack of participation, inattentiveness, disruptive behavior, giving up easily, or being unwilling to ask for help. These two practices can increase awareness:
- Micro check-ins (60–75 seconds): Quietly walk toward the student and privately acknowledge their disconnection. Ask if they’re feeling overwhelmed or if something else is going on. Then offer a no-pressure choice—a quick bathroom break or help getting back on track.
- Success starter (90 seconds): When students are disconnected, engage them by saying something like, “C’mon, we can get started together and I’ll let you finish it.” Give them a strong start with a partially completed example to quiet the “I don’t know what I’m doing” voice in their head.
3. Lead with curiosity, not judgment.
Leading with curiosity means asking “What’s behind this behavior?” My early teachers saw apathy where Mrs. Poledor saw potential. She asked better questions. When we approach students with questions like “What’s making this difficult?” or “What do you need from me?” we create space for the real story to emerge.
These shifts in understanding create the foundation for action. But understanding alone isn’t enough—struggling learners need educators to translate that understanding into trust.
A Step Toward Engagement
When Mrs. Poledor promised to take care of me and then followed through, something shifted. I felt safe enough to admit when I didn’t understand, to struggle in front of classmates, and to keep trying. That safety—built on trust—is what all struggling learners need before they can take academic risks. Students engage when they feel seen, valued, and heard.
Educators can create this safety through three practices:
- Holding relational check-ins that last from 30 seconds to 4 minutes. A quick temperature check using Kuypers’ Zones of Regulation gives insight into students’ emotional state. Just ask, “How are you feeling?” “How can I support you right now?” “Is there anything you need me to know?”
- Following through on your word: Students know when you mean what you say. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had fallen further behind after Mrs. Poledor promised to take care of me? Students are always watching. When you fall short, trust is lost.
- Building a bridge with families and caregivers: When students see their teachers and families working together, they know that a supportive team is looking out for them, which builds trust and helps them feel comfortable speaking up, asking for help, and engaging in learning.
Mrs. Poledor’s actions matched her intentions from day one, and that consistency built trust. With trust came my willingness to take risks—and with risk-taking came real learning. This is what happens when we drop the deficit labels: Students move from being defined by what they lack to being empowered by their potential.
When students know we genuinely care, they stop performing for us and start owning their learning journey. That’s the power every educator can give their learners—not by labeling who they are, but by connecting with who they can become.
