Article Why Are We Still Treating Teachers Like Robots?
Emily Gasca
When Luke walked into my classroom back in September, he refused to do any work and barely spoke, only pointing and uttering a few words when he wanted someone’s attention. He relied on others to do everything for him, and early on he refused to walk in line unless someone held his hand. Luke was very capable, but he was accustomed to being held. So when it was time to line up, I reminded him of how brave and independent he was. Before long, other students picked up on what I was saying to Luke and started chanting together: “You can do hard things! You can do hard things!” I saw a big smile spread beneath Luke’s mask, his eyes lit up, and he walked off in line with his friends.
It’s beautiful to see how affirmations have built a community of learners who know how to lead and speak life into each other. Nothing in my fifteen years as an educator prepared me for what this year would bring both in and out of the classroom. In my Kindergarten classroom I was faced with language barriers, students’ inability to express basic needs, a lack of socio-emotional support and academic vocabulary, and a skill set ranging from two-year olds to 46
