By Nadine Schroeder, teacher, Surrey

At the start of this school year, I knew, based on my experience with my nieces and nephews, that the kids entering my room might need focused attention and extra care. The pandemic has been hard on all of us. My students carry the weight of stress, isolation, fear, and anxiety.

Some of my students spend part of their day crawling away to find calm spaces to hide. A few of my students panic when they are asked to touch anything that has been touched by others in the class. Most of my students are in learner support, more than half are on the food program, and several have experienced the kind of grief and loss that a seven-year-old should not know.

Social-emotional learning is more essential now than ever before.

I have never so deeply felt the need to remind kids that I love them, that I appreciate them, that they make our class better. When a student is struggling, we raise our hands to our hearts and hold them toward the student to empower them with our love. We remember to be kind, even though it can be hard. We all have needs and we respect each need.

Our community is better for all our needs. There is a Band-Aid on our whiteboard along with the words, “We all need different things.” I taught my class that if I’m bleeding, I need a Band-Aid, but I do not need to give one to everyone. Many of our classmates have needs that can feel louder than others. I am proud of the way these seven-year-olds are handling learning equity in action. We do not all get the same. We get what we need.

Every morning, my Grade 2 class has a morning meeting. During this time, we greet one another, share opinions with each other, do an activity together, and work on a morning message. This daily practice gives us time and space to learn about each other and build a community. On the last day of school of 2020, during our morning meeting, students shared compliments after greeting one another. Some compliments were simple, some were silly, and some were remarkably kind. 

That day, three of my students came into the classroom mid-way through our morning meeting. We greeted the first late-comer and shared our compliments. My heart was warmed by how nearly every child in the room complimented this student on her kind heart. We greeted the second late-comer, and I was amazed when a student praised this child for their efforts to learn English and how much their English had improved.

The compliments for the third late-comer caused my eyes to fill and the tears to fall. This sweet child gives me a run for the small salary that I earn. Students raised their hands to compliment him. They loved his PJs. They liked the colour of his boots. They liked his silliness. Then came the most meaningful remark: one child proudly announced, “We need him.”

Nearly every day from September to November, I would remind this child that we needed him, that he belonged. When he would bolt out of the room, I would leave my class full of other students to find this one, to tell him that I loved him and that I hoped he would come back. Now, my students echo these words of belonging with their peers.

My students know that we need one another. As I write this in mid-January, the student who was told “we need you” is thriving as a leader. A TTOC recently wrote that this student had been helpful. My September-November self knew this student needed love, but did not know what that love would do.

I once heard a colleague say, “Maslow before Bloom.” Needs before expectations, love and acceptance before demands and academics. My work as a teacher this year sometimes seems to lack academics, and honestly, that worries me. But I also feel good about what is happening in my room. Though I find myself wiped at the end of every day, and contemplate quitting on a weekly basis, I can see that my students are learning. They are learning what it means to be a community, a family. 

In a school year where I go on many solo walks, take more long baths, read more fiction, and see very few people outside of my students, I know this: I need my students. They need me. They need one another. I believe my students know this too. We all matter. We all deserve to get what we need.

And might I add, dear colleague, we need you. Your resiliency is carrying us all through. Take care of yourself.