My friend Karol worried about her son when he was in middle school. Marcel was a shy boy who was both anxious about making friends and desperate to have them. His attempts to socialize were rarely successful, which he—understandably— used as a justification to pull even more inside himself. Being a loner exacerbated his introversion and eliminated many social opportunities. Karol knew her son was never going to be outgoing or gregarious, but she hated that he seemed so lonely. “He sat alone in class, sat alone at lunch, and was alone on weekends,” she said. He became increasingly averse to social interactions, reacting angrily to her suggestions that he join a club, become involved in church, go out for a sport, or find an area of interest that might involve peers. “Years passed without him showing a single shred of joy,” she said.
Marcel is now in his early twenties. He works as an electrician and spends time renovating his newly purchased cabin and hanging out with a small group of friends. He laughs often, loudly, and with great joy. Karol doesn’t worry about him much anymore, but she can’t forget how difficult his school years were. She reflects upon that time with clarity and insight. “I’ve come to think that when a child’s physiological and safety requirements are met, they have just two more needs: a thing and a buddy. Marcel had neither.”
Karol is on to something. When I see students struggling, I can usually trace it back to a need for something to care about and a person with whom they can connect. Their “thing” can be anything— an interest area, a skill, a place or space they love. Their “buddy” can be a friend, parent, or relative; it might also be a group of people, such as a team or club. Many students come to our classrooms with both. Think about the 1st grader who trades Hot Wheels cars or a 5th grader who joins a geocaching group. Think of the middle schooler immersed in a gaggle of peers or the high school junior who lives for her role on the volleyball team. For many students, these things lead to joy— in school, in friendship, in becoming who they are meant to be.
To me, thing and buddy both point to the value of identity. To be uncertain of who you are is a terrible feeling, making it impossible to care about anyone or anything. Identity gives us the answers to simple questions. What are my strengths? Where do I fit in this world? What excites me? What saddens and worries me? What makes me optimistic? How do I like to spend my time? Where do I find peace? The answers aren’t permanent, of course—especially for young people, who are poised to change and grow as they find their path to adulthood—but they provide substantial footing for the journey, and they give the child a foundation of self. It’s not that confident students have everything figured out— it’s more that they trust themselves. They can work through executive functioning tasks, are willing to try new things, and can use mistakes as learning experiences.
Let’s look at what school leaders might do to help a child build identity.
It’s not that confident students have everything figured out—it’s more that they trust themselves.
Let teachers run point.
Teachers are masterful at getting to know their students and instilling important bits of identity. As principals, we can encourage them to continue and expand this skill through training and mentorship.
As an example, you might provide a workshop for your staff. In groups, ask your staff to reflect on how they came to find their own identity. This personal reflection will get their minds calibrated to its importance. After that, ask them to think about their students. Who has a strong identity? Why? How does it manifest itself? For students that don’t, what might we do to help?
Work collectively.
Teachers can’t be expected to be the only identity, especially as the work asked of them continues to mount. But if we work collectively—teachers, parents, coaches, advisors, counselors, social workers, the administrative team, support staff—if all of us recognize the power of identity, the responsibility won’t feel so heavy for any one person.
Rely on parents and caregivers.
Parents know their children best, and the school-home connection is most productive when we accept whatever level of involvement comes from parents or guardians. We can shift parent-teacher conversations away from a full-on focus of data, progress, and discipline, and include conversations that discuss how students like to spend their time, who are their best friends or mentors, what excites them and brings energy, and how we can capitalize on those things at school.
Build student confidence with care.
Students dismiss vague and depersonalized compliments. I try to avoid comments like, “You’re so smart” and “You’re a great kid.” We should avoid any mention of physical gifts, too. “You’re so tall!” was something my own daughter heard almost daily, but it felt like criticism to a child who was deeply self-conscious about her height. The world will take care of those types of judgements anyway. Instead, we can instill confidence by noting specific skills, talents, and work ethic. “I loved seeing your intense focus on that project.” “You are skilled at communicating with others.” “Your ability to organize and solve problems is outstanding.” “I can’t wait to see more of your writing!”
Look forward.
For many students, especially young ones, anticipation is what gets them to school and keeps them engaged while they’re there. Students can build identity through choice-based assignments, project-based learning experiences, off-site learning, a capstone event to a unit, a performance-based assessment, a guest speaker, a reward day—the list goes on and on. A teacher friend recently pushed back when I suggested she plan a few identity-building learning opportunities for her students.
“Those things are so much work and so disruptive,” she worried.
“Well, yes,” I told her, “and you’re not wrong that routines are critical—students thrive on predictable habits and patterns. But the energy that comes from a disrupted routine is energizing. And fun.”
Anticipatory energy gives our students hope—and joy.
Finding a Place
For someone like Marcel, joy was absent until he had established an identity—which is to say, he understood who he was and how he fit into this world. Joy isn’t a constant resting state. Rarely does anyone feel joy on a nonstop (or even frequent!) basis. It’s quite brief, actually, showing up in flashes of happiness, of satisfaction, of accomplishment. Remembering this will help us see the long view. A couple joyous moments for a child throughout a day or a week is doable—and can make all the difference in how they feel about school and how they see themselves fitting into this world.
Centering Student Joy
EL magazine's December 2024 issue examines how joy humanizes learning and the many ways educators can cultivate it.
