We all know relationships are crucial to teaching. Kids behave better, work harder, and learn more when they like and respect their teacher鈥攁nd when they know their teacher likes and respects them back.
That positive rapport with students can be a powerful amulet for warding off burnout. It doesn鈥檛 matter how frustrated I am by kids鈥� misbehavior or adults鈥� misguided policies. One unguarded grin from a 2nd grader鈥攊nvariably missing a tooth or two鈥攁nd the chunk of frustration lodged in my chest melts away like a block of ice in a beam of sunlight.
How can we cultivate these relationships and weave them into the daily fabric of our classrooms, not just during the first few weeks of school, but throughout the entire year?
1. Spend time with the 鈥渉ard鈥� kids and the quiet ones.
The best part of a recent week was having lunch in the classroom with a handful of my students. Alicia, who鈥檚 usually quiet as a painting, beamed her radiant smile while filling me in on her life, including the fact that her mom is about to have a baby. Christina, who is often teary and nervous in the mornings, was downright bubbly, clowning around and acting silly as a goose.
My new student, Gabriel, told me, 鈥淪ometimes I like to think about what humans鈥� lives will be like in the future.鈥� A beat later, in one of those dizzying swoops between the profound and the lighthearted that characterize so many 7-year-olds, he kicked off a rich discussion about our favorite Marvel superhero movies.
The 20-minute lunch ended with us all singing along to 鈥淵ou鈥檙e Welcome鈥� from the Disney movie 鈥淢oana,鈥� while Gabriel, whose family is from the Marshall Islands, performed an impromptu version of a Polynesian dance.
It was hard to believe these funny, happy kids were part of the same class that drove me crazy all morning. How could these adorable children belong to that unruly little mob that talked about slime instead of reading their books, straggled across the hall rather than forming a single-file line, and stretched out on the rug like they were lounging in hammocks instead of sitting 鈥渃risscross applesauce鈥�?
That鈥檚 often The Teacher鈥檚 Paradox, especially at this time of year: an ill-mannered class made up entirely of delightful individuals.
It鈥檚 common practice to do special things like lunch in the classroom only as a reward. The problem with that is you often end up spending all your time with the well-behaved students whose company you already enjoy, and who already enjoy yours.
Sometimes when a child has driven me crazy all week, that鈥檚 the perfect time to have him join me and another student or two for lunch in the classroom. That time together often provides insights into the source of his behavior鈥攁 rough home life, a need for attention so deep he鈥檇 rather get negative attention than none at all鈥攂ut it also gives us both a much-needed break from our usual patterns.
For that little oasis of time, I鈥檓 not correcting his behavior, threatening him with consequences, or trying to make him do things he doesn鈥檛 want to do. Those 20 minutes can do a lot to mend a fractured relationship.
2. Build in lots of one-on-one and small-group time.
The great thing about teaching is the same thing that makes it so hard: Each child is complex and distinct, an individual galaxy of needs, gifts, interests, and experiences. We have to teach them in ways that honor that individuality.
To do that, we need to become experts in these particular children. Which vowel sounds does Carlos have trouble distinguishing? What understandings and misconceptions does Jahlissa have about place value?
The inconvenient truth is that whole-class direct instruction will never provide our students with the depth of understanding they need. Children develop their abilities the same way one-on-one, guided by an adult who cares deeply about them.
I use only 10 or 12 minutes of each hour in my class for whole-group instruction. The rest of the time, I鈥檓 doing one-on-one conferences or pulling small groups. I鈥檓 taking notes, on paper and in my head, about what each child understands and what she still needs to figure out.
Developing our expertise on individual students will take hundreds of hours. We have to build that time into our school day.
3. Write individual notes to your students.
Each child in my class has a tiny envelope with their name on it. Once or twice a month, I write the children notes. I tell them what I liked about a story they wrote that week, or a new reading strength I noticed they鈥檙e developing. I ask them questions about their families and what they like to do after school.
Kids need to know that they are seen and heard. They often treasure these little letters that only take me a few minutes to write.
4. Build relationships with families, too.
I used to leave parent-teacher conferences feeling like the only thing I had asked parents, after 10 minutes of me talking non-stop, was 鈥淒o you have any questions?鈥�
In our district, children and parents attend teacher conferences together. So this year I prepared a few 鈥渋cebreaker鈥� questions for them on scraps of paper in Ziploc bags. One bag had questions for moms and dads to ask their children, like, 鈥淲ho is your best friend in the class?鈥� The other bag had questions for kids to ask their parents, such as, 鈥淲hat was I like when I was a baby?鈥� or 鈥淒id you like school when you were a kid?鈥�
The answers gave me a deeper sense of each parent as a human being, not just a source for signatures on forms or help with behavioral problems. The insights they shared were brief but personal, like when Luis鈥� mom smiled a radiant smile and told him she loved school in Mexico because they always sang songs.
We have to show moms, dads, and grandparents the same curiosity and respect we show their complicated, infuriating, fundamentally lovable children.
Most of us teach because we love getting to know young humans, in all their messy radiance and flawed glory. If we make time to cultivate the relationships that sustain us and nurture our students, we will witness that annual miracle: a roomful of strangers becoming a kind of family.
The children in our care will become kinder, better, and more deeply joyful. So will we.
