Life Lessons from an Educator
I’ll Never Forget the Lesson I Learned on My First Day of Teaching
It’s been the foundation of my life and my career ever since
I graduated college with the dream of changing children’s lives for the better. My first interview was for a position teaching gym at an inner-city elementary school. Unfortunately, I looked like a 12-year-old at the time.
I did the best I could to overcome my youthful appearance. I stood tall, dressed in my most mature-looking suit, and deepened my voice as I spoke.
The interview with the principal seemed to go well. She gave me a look that clearly said, “I’m sorry. I’d love to give you the job, but you’re just not tough enough to teach at this school.”
I looked her in the eye and said, “I know I look young, but if you give me a chance, I won’t let you down.”
Later that week, the phone rang. When I picked up, the principal said, “Everyone deserves a chance, Daniel. You’re hired.”
My First Day of Physical Education Class
I arrived for the first day of school with khakis and a fresh polo, a shiny new clipboard, and a stack of books in the teaching gym. I had planned every detail of my opening lesson, feeling poised and ready to start my career.
My first class, a rowdy group of fifth graders, poured out of the school’s doors and spread around the basketball court next to the building. I gathered them together, introduced myself, and gave instructions for the day’s activities.
Before long, everything was going as planned. Students skipped rope under the pavilion, tossed frisbees back and forth, and played 3-on-3 basketball. Everyone stayed on task, performing the assigned skills just as I had taught them. Things had gotten off to a good start, and I felt great about it.
Then, it was time to clean up. I blew my whistle and called out directions. Most of the students returned their equipment and filed into line, but six of the bigger boys kept shooting hoops.
Maybe they hadn’t heard me. So, I raised my voice. “It’s time to return the basketballs,” I said in a friendly but firm way.
They continued playing.
I knew I needed to assert my authority. The other students watched intently. “Bring in the basketballs,” I demanded in my strongest and most professional tone.
The boys stopped shooting hoops, but they didn’t return the basketballs. Instead, they looked at me unflinchingly, and a deafening silence descended over the group.
The ringleader, who looked like an NFL linebacker, stepped forward, holding his basketball defiantly under his arm.
I met his gaze and held it, my knees trembling. I had found myself in a standoff. I said slowly and clearly, “Put the basketballs away and get in line, NOW.”
He smirked at me, cradled the basketball between his wrist and forearm, shuffled his feet to gain power, and then launched it onto the school’s roof.
Time stood still as the ball spun through the air and landed on top of the building with a series of echoing thuds.
Then, the other boys joined the rebellion and hurled their basketballs onto the roof. Before I could process what was happening, the boys grabbed the frisbees and jump ropes and flung them onto the roof, too.
The other students “oohed” and “aahed” as if watching fireworks, then began chasing each other around the play area. I had lost control of the entire class. I had to radio the school’s behavior specialist to restore order and get everyone back into the building.
After school, the principal called me into her office to ask about my first day. I told her what had happened and apologized.
“Don’t worry about it, Daniel,” she said, “Every new teacher struggles in the beginning.
“But all of your gym equipment is on the roof!” I said.
The principal laughed, then said something I’ll never forget.
“You won’t be able to teach students by imposing your will on them. You have to work to establish trust with your students. You have to show you care about them before they’ll listen to you.”
Then she paused for a long moment and said, “Correction without Connection is Rejection.”
I drove home that afternoon, reflecting on her words and trying to digest this wise principle.
Here is how this incident impacted my growth.
I began studying the importance of connection in teaching and learning. I discovered Parker Palmer, whose book, The Courage to Teach, introduced me to the need to establish trust with my students and motivated me to center my teaching around empathy, compassion, and patience.
I read the work of Nel Noddings, an education researcher who taught me to always focus on students' best interests and be fully present for them; as she wrote in her book, Caring, “The student is infinitely more important than the subject matter.”
The lessons I learned from my principal and my studies not only helped me in my professional life but also in my personal life. In concentrating on connection, I got to know my wife and kids better, learned to view the world from their perspective, and started focusing more on their needs.
Our relationships blossomed as I asked more thoughtful questions and listened wholeheartedly to better know, understand, and bond with them as a husband and a father.
Back at school, I started standing at the entrance, welcoming every child as they arrived. I walked students home after school, attended community events, and volunteered as a football coach at the local park.
As I came to know my students, I began to care deeply for them, and they began to care deeply for me. Discipline issues in my classes became rare. When a child acted out, I didn’t judge or punish. Instead, I pulled them aside to guide, encourage, and help them learn from the situation.
The principal continued to check in with me. Under her guidance, I eventually learned how to manage and instruct my classes with skill. Her mentorship taught me the value of putting human connection first, and that has made all the difference in my teaching.
Inspired by my principal’s caring example, I took a keen interest in mentoring. I read research from The New Teacher Center and the National Center for Education Statistics. I studied the philosophies and techniques of mentoring and how they support teachers' well-being, growth, and success.
Years later, I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the role of caring within teacher-mentoring relationships and eventually published a book on the subject.
As a result of these experiences, I’ve realized that connection is essential to caring for others, conveying our messages, and finding meaning in life.
With this understanding, I have always made it my priority to put relationships at the forefront of everything I do, both inside and outside of school.
I’m still growing as a husband, father, and educator from the lessons I’ve learned, and I’m proud to share I haven’t lost a single piece of gym equipment since.
Key takeaways from my story
Establishing Trust and Connection: My experience highlights the importance of building trust and connection with students, emphasizing that correction without connection leads to rejection. By focusing on empathy, compassion, and patience, I learned to connect with students on a deeper level, encouraging positive relationships and minimizing discipline issues.
Prioritizing Human Connection: My journey emphasizes the significance of prioritizing human connection in professional endeavors and personal relationships. By welcoming students, attending community events, and mentoring, I demonstrated a commitment to caring for others, significantly impacting my professional and personal life.
Continuous Growth and Learning: This story reflects my ongoing commitment to growth and learning. From studying educational philosophy to writing a doctoral dissertation on mentoring, my journey illustrates the value of continuous learning and its transformative impact on teaching, mentoring, and personal development.
Thank you for reading my story.
