March 21, 2023
I was waiting for her in the hallway. We have a morning appointment every day. Her arrival time is slightly unpredictable. If I am not there when she arrives, she resists leaving the routine she’s started in her classroom.
I understand.
It’s a very rainy day and she comes around the corner bedraggled, a frown touching the corners of her mouth. I ask her if she wants to take off her damp coat. We have this conversation every day. She declines, per usual.
She trudges down the hall near me. She doesn’t look up or have her usual comment on her morning at home. I glance down at her, wondering what might be going on in her head. For now, we walk quietly down the hall together.
We come into the warm, cozy literacy center. She doesn’t relax today as she usually does. She goes over to the table with her kitty and plops down. I wait for a moment.
Did you have breakfast today?
No, comes a small voice from inside the big coat.
Let’s go check if we can still get some, I say as I rise from my chair.
Down the hall we go. A very small parade.
The cafeteria is bright on this gloomy day and the workers are cheery. They greet her by name and give her a pack with a bowl of cereal. I slip a chocolate milk into my hand as we turn to go back down the hall.
Milk for your cereal? I say.
No I like it like this, she says.
We walk the length of the school back to the book room.
As she snacks quietly on her cereal, I read her a chapter from Ivy and Bean.
It wasn’t what I had planned. Perhaps it was just what we needed.
Reflections from a Coach 
Recognizing students needs is a gift. If you hadn’t gone this route, any other plans you had would have certainly been spoiled. You are wise!
So much beauty in this post, Susan. The beauty of empathy, the beauty of kindness, the beauty of letting go, the beauty of being seen. Thank you for reminding me of many ways I can be beautiful today.
Kate
Even though we don’t know her name, she became quite real reading her post, as did the care you give her and the appreciation she has for you even though it doesn’t sound like she expresses it much. And no, plans aren’t always what people need.
This is what responsive teaching looks like- sometimes plans have to be changed. We cannot march through plans when we have real people we are teaching. Kudos to you for seeing what she needed that morning.
She will remember that you recognized her most compelling need. She will be back, ready to read (and eat) again.
I once had a student come back to visit from HS. His first question to me was “Do you still have your snack closet? I remember the day you gave me the Cheerios when I was sad. You said, cheer-i-up-os. I eat them all the time.”
Cheeri-up-os 😀I should stock up
You captured well all the love and decisions we make to meet the person where they are. Thank you for sharing such an honest moment in your day.
“Down the hall we go. A very small parade.”
I love this.
I also love the gentleness in this writing and in these exchanges (mostly from you).
Thank you
You capture this encounter so well! I really liked the “small voice inside the big coat.” This piece says so much. You are one very special teacher.
Thank you
This is such a tender slice that captures your natural nurturing self! That child is lucky to have you looking out for her belly and her brain! Yay you❤️
Small, bedraggled parade? Maybe. Out-sized impact? I suspect so.