Trust at the Starting Gate: Our Call to Tune in and Listen

I cried Thursday morning. I cried because one of my students shared something with me.  He did not share that he goes home to a house without electricity (that was another student), or that his father scares him when he drinks and drives (been there too).  Instead Nate* shared with me he had written a song. He had written a song about what it feels like to think like you are not good enough, but what happens when you have someone in your life that makes you feel like you you can be more because “they see the amazingness in you.”

I asked him if he would sing it for me, or just read it, if that would be more comfortable. He told me, “I normally feel more comfortable reading them because some people think it’s funny to make fun of me when I sing my songs.”  

I opened my mouth to say I was sorry to hear anyone ever made fun of his singing or songs, but before I could, Nate began to tap his little leg (he had the beat and notes written in his notebook under the words). Tap, tap, tap, tap...1, 2, 3, 4, emotion began to rise up from somewhere deep inside his 10 year-old body, he closed his big brown eyes, and sang the first 2 lines. 

It was in this moment I realized I was witnessing something that was indescribable, but something I could identify instantly.  I was witnessing greatness.  And that was when I first started to cry, as Nate continued to sing...

But let me back up a bit.

Nate is a young man we all know.  Oh-so-very bright, high-energy, IMPULSIVE, a bit of a smart aleck (but only due to the fact that he is not the same age as his teachers...if that were the case, and you met him at a party, you would leave saying, “Oh man, did you meet that Nate guy?!? He was the life of the party!”), and struggles to meet the common expectations of a stereotypical classroom environment.

If you have taught for a few years, or maybe even just a few months, you are thinking of your Nate right now.

(Now I must confess, before we continue, that I have always loved the “Nate’s” of the edu-universe and always will.  Where one teacher may see a disruptive student who upsets the balance, I see an explorer who provides the class with a fresh perspective and reminds me that I am not a coach of push-button learners.  And to quote a dear friend, “Perfection is boring.”)

Sadly as a result of his “Nate-ness,” I bemoan to tell you that my young friend’s experiences with school have not always been positive.  He has heard his name a lot over the past few years, and not always with an encouraging message attached. 

His song sang to that, but it also sang to something else.  It sang to the idea that someone may not think they are worth anything, but another person can help them change that.  

In Nate’s amazing song that person was a girl. In a student’s song, that person is a teacher.  

We, as educators, need to be the people in our students’ lives who inspire them. The people who make them feel like they can do and be anything. It is our job, no calling, to make them see, know, and truly believe in the "amazingness" that is inside every one of them. But this doesn't just happen, first you need to be given a gift.  

The moment Nate sang his song to me, he gave me the gift I needed.  He gave me the gift of his trust. 

He trusted me not to laugh. That’s why he sang the song instead of reading it like he normally does.  

He trusted me to provide feedback and guidance.  Authentic and useful feedback and guidance that shows I take him and his dreams seriously. Nate trusted that I can point him in the direction of his next step and be there to take it with him. 

He trusted me to see him not as ten-year old boy who still is learning his multiplication tables, but as an artist who thinks and feels deeply.  He trusted me to look at him and know that here before me stands a young man who sits in his room at night and in a corner of our classroom during the day putting his heart and soul down on paper. 

He trusted me to encourage him to spend his time doing what he loves and makes him feel alive.

And even if he didn’t realize it, Nate trusted me to help him continue to pursue his dreams, embolden him to take risks, and know what it is like to ride with unbridled passion because I am a teacher, and that is what teachers do. We teach students to ride. 

We get our students up in the saddle and ride by their side for a while. Soon we hand the reins over to them, as we continue to encourage them to go from a trot, to a canter, to a gallop. We are there to dust them off when they fall and give them a leg back up. We raise the bar and tell them they can and will clear it. We provide them with opportunities to ride fast and far and to know what it means to feel free, as the wind rushes through their hair and the blood pumps through their veins.    

I have no doubt Nate will become a songwriter, if he so chooses, but regardless of where Nate’s life takes him, I am forever grateful for being a part of this ride on his journey through life.