“No eight year old deserves to be treated this way!”

Jay was one of the most vibrant students I taught.  As a second grader, he was new to the school. He came from a household where both parents had good steady jobs.  He had a younger sister and he played sports on the weekends.

Jay was also bright and sociable.  So bright that more often than not, I wasn’t always sure what to do with him as he was above grade level in both reading and math, unlike the majority of my students who entered my 1st/ 2nd grade combined class, on average, at a kindergarten academic level.  He was so sociable, it seemed every minute Jay was chatting away with his peers.  In contrast to Brie’s story, Jay would complete his work quickly and successfully. Thinkshop was also a part of this class, where students could work independently or in small groups on various forms of academic tasks.  What would take the rest of the class one to two weeks to complete, would take Jay one to two days.  The mechanics and creativity of his writing was aspirational for most.  He truly was a brilliant young person and well liked by his peers.

Because the school was relatively fluid in our approach to education, he was able to join the 3rd/4th grade class for math and was also put in a small reading group in my class where he and two other peers, who read at similar levels, were able to select books of their choice and read them together.  This approach was investing to him only initially.  

Jay, like many other second graders, was happiest at recess.  He would run and play to his heart’s content.  Tag was his favorite.  He would rally almost the entire class to play with him during recess. He had energy like no one else and this energy spilled over in the classroom.  It seemed he was always a buzz; bustling around, talking to anyone who would listen and making people laugh. At times he even made me laugh. I recall him scurrying around one day at recess and then later in the classroom whispering in his peers’ ears. Unsure of what he was doing, I called him over to explain what was going on. In a matter of fact way he told me what he was whispering. “I told you once you son of a ….” That last word was not omitted however. Taken a back I asked him, “Where did you learn that?” He replied impassively, “Charlie Daniels”. In that moment I didn’t have it in me not to laugh or smile, however, more often than not, I saw his constant movement about the classroom and his socialness as “disrespectful” and “distracting”.  

A few years prior to teaching Jay I had visited a school where they had something called “bench”. This was essentially a consequence where seats were taken away from students who could not stay in them or had done something else “wrong” in the eyes of the school.  Bench also could mean isolating students from their peers. Seeing this, I was inspired.  (Deplorable, I know!) I thought this would be great for Jay.  If he couldn’t stay in his seat and was constantly “disrespecting” the class expectations then, I would take away his chair and isolate him. All the while I was conjuring up this plan, never did I consider the inhumane circumstance of these “consequences”.  Never did I consider how it would make Jay, his family, my colleagues and my students feel. In my mind, it was what he needed. 

I decided to introduce this “system” at the start of the week. Not long into Monday, Jay had done something I felt warranted a consequence and so the removal of the chair and recess commenced. I told Jay he would get his chair back and be able to play with his peers the following week. That meant from Monday until Friday of that week Jay would not have a chair to sit in and was required to stand or sit on the floor and, he was not allowed to play with his peers at recess. Within a day, Jay’s classmates were advocating for him to have his chair back and be able to play at recess. I stood firm on my stance. The following week, I remember offering Jay’s chair back, however he refused it; not out of joy in the opportunity of standing but in advocacy of his choice. 

The following week I received a letter from Jay’s dad.  I can’t recall all that was written however, it was nearly a full page of how horrific and oppressive the consequence of taking recess and a chair away was.  I do recall this line, “No eight year old deserves to be treated this way!”   Shamefully, I read the letter but never followed-up with Jay’s father.  Instead of confronting the situation, allowing his family space to be heard and share their thoughts and feelings and even choice in the matter, I never looked at the letter again.  I also did not follow-up with Jay. He did finally choose to sit in his chair and began playing at recess with his friends, however not because I had worked to restore the relationship. While the oppressive action of taking a chair and recess away was not something I continued to practice that year, unfortunately, I hadn’t learned my lesson yet. 

Jay, 

When I reminisce about my students and their families, you and yours come to mind often. As a second grader, your mind was creative, your spirit vibrant, and energy infectious.  

I am not sure if you remember your second grade year, but in retrospect, I know I did not make it easy for you.  When you expressed your creativity, vibrancy, and energy, I as your teacher, would hand you a consequence, be that not playing with your friends at recess or taking away your chair in class.  

Instead of trying to squander these incredible attributes, I should have found more ways to embrace them and provide you with more outlets to engage in them. 

Your parents were (likely still are) incredible advocates whose voices I neglected to hear because I didn’t want to be called out on my actions. I am not sure you remember this however, your dad wrote me a letter regarding taking your chair away.  In this letter he explained why my actions were wrong, not just for you but for any child. The letter was impactful in that it called me out on oppressive actions. I can still  recall reading the letter, shaking and wanting to defend my actions but, there was no line of defense. You deserved better and your family knew that. Other students in the class deserved better and your family knew that.  I should have known that and even if I did, my actions did not indicate it.   

Jay, I hope you know how much you and your family have taught me all these years later and I hope you know that as I continue to work in education, I use these lessons daily. 

You and your family reminded me that students are human and deserve to be treated like humans. I should not have needed that reminder ever in my teaching career, but you all gave me a hard and well deserved wake-up call.

You and your family remind me (daily, believe it or not) the importance of a genuine and authentic relationship with students and their families.  I often wonder and conjecture how different I would have reacted to you and you towards me had I built and supported a more meaningful relationship with you and your family.    

You and your family taught me that students are other people’s children. If a family feels wronged, teachers must listen and cannot be defensive.  It is not our job to defend our oppressive actions, it is our job to love and support our students in all that they are and bring to this world.  This realization has become very resonant as I am now a mom of two boys (who are very similar to the eight year old you were). It should NEVER take an educator to become a parent or guardian to learn this lesson.  

Your family taught me, my vision for a well-behaved class was not a vision that would positively impact the lives of my students .  Educators have to be aware of their biases and consider how they impact the learning of their students.  You were well above grade level in all academic areas and you had energy that didn’t fit the “mold” of who I wanted my students to be while in my classroom.  I had some pretty serious negative biases toward any student who was not “compliant”. I have since learned, through the help of you and your family, “compliance” is NEVER the end goal in a classroom.    

Thank you for these lessons in helping me understand there are so many other ways to support students.  I carry you and your family in my mind and heart and felt the need to share this with you.  

I hope the year in my classroom did not erase your amazing self and also hope throughout your K-12 education career you had teachers who embraced the spirited, vibrant, brilliant human you are. 

Embracing all of this now (hope it is not too late), 

Ms. (Adams) Pomis 

Restorative practices far outweigh any type of consequence

In writing this letter to Jay I realized there had never been closure to the situation.  I recall reading Jay’s dad’s letter and knowing what I know now, I wish with all of my heart that I had reached out.  More than anything, I wish I had treated Jay better.  I wish I had known that taking a student’s chair away and making them stand all day is not okay!  I should have known.  But I didn’t. Because I had seen this done in a school, a school many of my peers and I held in high regard, I thought nothing of the fact of how wrong it was but instead was convinced, “If this school is doing it, then it must be okay.”    I also never thought twice about talking to Jay about the circumstance of the situation. Instead his chair and recess were gone and that was that.  I never thought to hear his voice and what he needed in order to be more successful in the classroom.  I only saw a student not “complying” with my expectations and something had to be done. I get when expectations are not met there are often consequences handed out but there are alternatives to the kinds of consequences I was giving and there are steps that MUST be taken after a consequence is given. Before taking Jay’s chair, I am sure I had given other consequences and likely had other conversations with him to help deter the behavior, but I don’t recall engaging in a meaningful conversations after the fact to support our relationship and his success in the class. More important than any consequence is having a restorative conversation.   Check out the following resources in how to have restorative conversations with your students.

1. CT3 Restorative Conversations
2. Turn Around USA

Our students’ families are our partners and have put their trust in us! It is our job to act in partnership to fulfill that trust!

As educators our students are gifted to us. For approximately one year, we are responsible for their livelihood and success.  Too often I have seen educators, including myself, work in isolation of the families and even their students.  Jay’s family entrusted me to teach him, to treat him thoughtfully and fairly, to provide him a safe learning environment.  I let them down. It is hard to put oneself in the shoes of a someone raising children when they are not yet doing so.  Regardless, if an educator has not yet begun to raise their own children, we have to show love and keep working on ourselves to ensure our students have a safe and trusting environment to thrive in.  I never truly collaborated with Jay’s family, yet, his family would have been more than willing to work alongside me to ensure Jay had the support and environment he needed.  Work alongside your students’ families to support the outcomes of what a students’ behavior means. Invite them in, hear their perspective and advocate for their student just as much, if not more, than the family would. For additional ways to work in partnership with families, I encourage you to start by reading through some of the following resources:

1. The Harvard Family Research Project
2. Education Post
3. Read “Other People’s Children” by Lisa Delpit

There are other options than oppressive consequences to manage your classroom

According to bell hooks, “Being oppressed means the absence of choices.” The oppressive nature in which I took the chair and recess ultimately took Jay’s freedom of choice.  While I didn’t realize it then, because in my eyes he was merely continuing to be disrespectful, I now can infer that his refusal to accept the chair was his advocacy for choice. He was “choosing” to remain standing in order to protest oppression. In this lesson, I have learned logic and choice are two of the best ways to give consequences. For example, the other day at dismissal I saw a student throw an apple. I happened to be inside and he did not know I saw him throw it. When I came outside, I noticed the apple on the ground in pieces throughout the breezeway. In my “past life”, I likely would have gone straight for the jugular, but instead, recognizing this is a pretty typical middle school behavior (though I am not condoning it), I simply found the student and said, “Hey love, I believe you have something to clean up.” He replied, “Ah miss.” I responded, “You know what you did and you know what you need to do.” Had I said, you know better and now you have to clean up the whole cafeteria, that would not have been logical, and without logic there might have been tension and maybe even a “no” on the students part, but instead, he walked and picked up the apple and threw it away. He also said he was sorry. I replied, “I don’t want you to be sorry, I just want to know that you won’t do this again.” He shared, “I won’t miss.” It might happen again. I hope it doesn’t but it might. And if it does, I know there are far less oppressive ways to deal with a situation like this one. If you are looking for ways to adjust how you discipline that are non-oppressive, I encourage you to check out Conscious Discipline or even Love and Logic.

If you have other non-oppressive behavior systems you have found to be helpful and support safety and trust in your classroom or school, please comment and share.