Field Notes from the Classroom
What happens in classrooms tells us a lot about what it takes to belong.
It’s been a bit since I was a classroom teacher in the K12 space. In fact, my last group of small humans—4th graders—have now made their way to college and beyond.
And still, I think often about how that classroom community was created. How we cared for each other. And how, in many ways, we still do.
I always felt like I was a better teacher for girls than for boys because I was raising boys and it came so easily and I had to work a little harder to get the girls to buy into what we were doing. And yet as I look back it is the relationship with and between the boys that fills me with joy because they could be themselves and that is all I ever want for students, both the small ones and the bigger ones that I spend time with now.
This year, in one of my college classes, there was a student that hated to lose points, he wanted to be perfect and he didn’t like to work very hard. It was a classic case and one that I love to crack. He would message me and call me over during and after lectures to make sure he was getting it so he could click submit on the assignment. He was a great student, dedicated to what he needs to know but also very efficient.
He reminded me of my little cluster of 4th graders who were fine with reading and didn’t protest too much if I made them write, but math and science came so much easier. If I could find the right approach or the right topic, they were fully in.
And so you go to what works for each of them. In 4th grade, it was Pac-12 sports. We would start the day talking about football and move on to basketball later in the year. We would talk strategies and records, players and positions and then we’d get to work. Same thing in college—we’d talk Big 12 sports or assignments in other classes or the current politics impacting education—I’d answer questions from my vantage point and listen to theirs.
On one of the last days of the semester, when we were having a work day, that student asked a question that made me pause—not because it was complex, but because it was brave. It was clear he wanted to get it right, but more than that, he wanted to feel seen for trying. And I realized: just like my 10-year-olds, he needed to know that showing up mattered more than perfection.
And as a group, we responded. First me and then a few from another table. And then he offered some thoughts and the girls in the front shared their perspective. He took it all in and considered their points of view—he paused as well.
We talk a lot about belonging in education—about brave spaces where students feel safe, supported and a part of something and willing to be vulnerable for the sake of learning. And you can do ice breakers and activities; have the best curriculum and state of the art technology that build to belonging but listening and talking about what interests them; showing up day in and day out matter just as much. It’s about knowing which team your student is rooting for. It’s about remembering that connection lives in the small moments.
Whether you’re coaching a team, raising a teen, or leading a staff meeting, the same truth applies: people want to feel like they matter beyond their output. And sometimes the easiest way to say “I see you” is to meet them where they already are.
You can do it right now.
Start your next conversation differently, ask a question that you really want to know about them. Or start your next meeting or class with a check-in: “What’s one thing you’re thinking about this week?”
Want to explore more? Take the What Kind of Connector Are You? quiz and learn how to build stronger relationships from your natural strengths.
Or simply reflect on this:
Who in your world needs to know that their presence matters more than their performance?