“Release the joy that is inside of another, and you release the joy that is inside of you.” ~Neal Donald Walch
Some of the best parenting lessons I’ve learned came to me before I was a parent. I didn’t know I was receiving them at the time – but now, when I am in action with my children, these invaluable lessons materialize. Suddenly a flashback to an earlier time instantly guides me in my parenting words and actions. You see, there was a time when I witnessed first-hand how to build up a child when others, even the child’s own parents, had decided there was nothing on which to build.
If you’re looking for a gift to give a child this holiday season, please read on. This gift requires no money, only a little patience and some belief … yet this gift can be a life-changer.
This is my story …
I had just moved to Florida with my husband. Armed with a master’s degree in special education and almost a decade of teaching experience, I had several job offers in the realm of special education. I chose a teaching position in a newly established program for children with severe behavioral and learning issues. The twelve children who made up the class all had one thing in common: Their problematic behavior had proved too much for the typical special education classrooms in the school district. My program would be their last chance and their only hope.
It immediately became apparent that the students’ volatile behavior cost them years of academic progress. Ranging in age from six-twelve, many of my students did not know how to read nor did they possess simple math skills. Some children could not identify basic letters or numbers. My co-teacher and I quickly discovered these children were not able to focus long enough to acquire these necessary skills – especially if the content was the least bit challenging.
After several weeks of frustration, failure, fear, and hopelessness, my co-teacher and I decided traditional schooling was not appropriate for these children. Before any academic progress could be made, they must first acquire basic life skills and social skills. In order to do so, we would take them off campus into the real world. Most people probably thought this idea was foolish; these kids couldn’t walk to the art room without having issues — how could they ride a bus and engage in appropriate public behavior?
We would teach them.
My colleague and I planned several outings and communicated our new “curriculum” to the children. Because many of their parents were substance abusers and/or developmentally delayed, these children had been deprived of the most basic life experiences. The children were very excited about the prospect of going places they had only dreamed of visiting. Every day for several weeks, my co-teacher and I modeled the skills that would allow the children to be successful in several particular public settings.
Within two months time, our class successfully grocery shopped, prepared a Thanksgiving meal, putt-putted, and enjoyed lunch at a local restaurant. Because of the glowing reviews the children received from all the businesses we patronized, it was now time to go roller skating.
I will not forget that day for as long as I live.
The generous skating rink owner allowed our class to come on a Thursday morning when the rink was normally closed. We survived the 20-minute bus ride, avoided the barrage of “I want this” when we walked past the vending machines, and managed to get the correct sizes of skates placed on feet.
My co-teacher, who was older and less coordinated than me, preferred to supervise the carpeted area and the bathroom. To my delight, this meant I got to don skates and be on the rink.
The first ten minutes were spent helping the kids get accustomed to the skates. I quickly noted that although these children were short on attention span and academic prowess, they were big on coordination and athleticism. With every ounce of my being, I encouraged, applauded, steadied, and prayed. Please let this work. Please let no one flip out and run for the door.
One by one, every single child got the hang of it.
Within nineteen minutes of our arrival, all twelve students were out on the floor skating. Some quickly, some slowly—but they were all skating. And what was even more amazing was the fact that they were all smiling. I could honestly never remember such a moment in the six-month period our class had been in existence. Slowly, I released a two-ton sigh of relief that felt like a car being lifted off my chest. I’d been holding my breath for nineteen minutes – or perhaps six months – waiting for this moment.
As I glided past my co-teacher we locked tearful eyes. She placed her folded hands in front of her chest in prayer formation. Like me, she was grateful for the grand miracle that was taking place on this rink. For the first time in six months, every child in our class was at peace. How long would it last? I quickly pushed my worries aside and simply enjoyed the miraculous moment at hand.
The children and I got in a comfortable groove. With each loop around the rink, their confidence grew. We all began skating a little faster, taking the turns a little quicker.
The Top 40 dance music was loud and invigorating. The kids happily jiggled their agile bodies under the flashing neon lights. As the children whizzed past, some of them were virtually unrecognizable. I had never seen such happiness … such joy … such freedom on those faces.
Looking at them now, they were just like any kid with a normal home life and a typical school record. Looking at them now, one would never know …
This one often resorted to biting and kicking.
This one ran for miles when he got upset.
This one used spit and vile profanity to take down anyone who got in his way.
This one tore the classroom apart not once, but twice.
This one brought a weapon to school.
This one’s mother was frequently in and out of jail for prostitution so he lived with his aging grandmother.
This one held scars from an extension cord beating at age three.
Yet now, with wheels on their feet and joy in their eyes, these precious children appeared to be flying—free from the pain, anger, rejection, and despair they carried on their small shoulders.
“Come on, Mrs. Stafford!” My students’ energized voices interrupted me from my emotional reverie in hopes I’d race them around the rink.
And I did. We raced … we held hands … we belted out the lyrics to “Where Is The Love” by The Black Eyed Peas … we did circles until we were dizzy. This surreal peacefulness lasted a whole twenty minutes … twenty glorious minutes. For some reason or another, I can’t recall why, disorder broke out. We took off our skates, got back on the bus, and rode back to school. But all was not lost. The children gazed out the window of the bus and there were less harsh words than usual … and definitely more smiles. I lost count of how many times I heard: “That was so fun. Can we do it again?”
There was no question. We knew we MUST skate. For on that rink was a ray of light that we once thought impossible to find. My co-teacher and I made arrangements with the skating rink owner and the school’s transportation department. With relief and gratitude, we learned we could skate every Thursday morning until the school year concluded in May.
The children were elated when they heard the news despite the behavioral expectations that accompanied this special privilege. Each child had personal weekly goals to accomplish in order to skate. Immediately there was a change. I’m not saying anyone was perfect, but they were calmer. I’m not saying suddenly someone could read fluently or do challenging math problems, but they tried. There was a transformation occurring in our twelve-student classroom—and it was due to a skating rink. These children didn’t just look forward to Thursday – they lived for Thursday.
And so did I.
Each visit to the skating rink meant I would feel the wind in my hair while twelve happy faces floated along side me. I didn’t have to raise my voice; I could be their loving companion. And in those minutes that my role changed, from teacher to friend, I could see these children for who they truly were; I could see their goodness shining through.
Thursdays at the skating rink changed the tone of the remaining school year. It changed my relationship with those students. Not only did they accept my hand, they accepted my help and my love. Skating side-by-side with these extraordinary children is an experience I will never forget.
And now, now that I have children of my own, I understand the vital importance of finding that skating rink when we did. And as I skated with my own children last weekend, it hit me. The floor of that skating rink was fertile ground for those troubled children. It was fresh, prosperous soil in which hope and confidence could grow. Past mistakes, future ambitions, I.Q., and family history didn’t matter when the children stepped on to that smooth surface – what mattered only was the glorious moment at hand.
He couldn’t read, but he could skate like the wind.
She couldn’t add 2 + 3, but she could sing all the lyrics to Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” while she glided with ease.
He couldn’t sit still long enough to listen to a two-minute lesson, but he could skate forward, backwards, and sideways.
Her home life didn’t give her reason to smile, but the feeling of wheels on her feet and wind in her hair sure did.
He lived in perpetual state of deprivation – but at the skating rink he had enough … he was enough.
Friends, I am simply the messenger on this “Hands Free” journey. It is by the grace of God and twelve precious children that I have this message to give:
To build up a child, you must find fertile ground …
Find that place where it doesn’t matter how much he knows or doesn’t know.
Find that place where she can fall 100 times, laugh, and get up and try again.
Find that place where past mistakes, shortcomings, and failures dissipate into thin air.
Find that place where he can be his true self.
Find that place where the two of you can be on the same team.
Find that place where the joy on her face makes her virtually unrecognizable.
Find that place to look forward to … to live for … whether it is a chessboard, a skateboard, or a boogie board … whether it is tech club, drama club, or book club … whether it is behind a sewing machine, an easel, a camera, or a set of drums … find fertile ground on which a tiny ray of light can light your child’s spirit.
And who knows? In the process of finding that place of healing and hope for your child, you may even find peace for yourself.
********************************************************
We all know how easy it is to get discouraged by past difficulties, failures, and disappointments. But this week, I challenge you to let go of negative past experiences that trap you and/or your child in a state of hopelessness. Find that place where you can breathe … find that place that makes your child glow … find that place that makes your child come alive. And then step into the fresh soil of fertile ground and never look back.
I must tell you, your beautiful comments and personal emails are my fertile ground. Thank you, friends of The Hands Free Revolution, for sharing my posts and writings — we’ve nearly reached a community of 20,000, which one year ago seemed like an impossible dream. I am incredibly grateful for each one of you.
*To my readers in or around the Chicago area: A reporter with the Chicago Sun-Times is interested in speaking with some readers of my blog for an article. This would provide incredible exposure for the “Hands Free” message so please email me at rachelstafford@handsfreemama.com if you are interested. You can also use the “contact me” button at the top of the blog. Thank you!
The How to Build Up a Child by Hands Free Mama, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
thank you so much. You have reminded me of why I became a special ed teacher and of my own triumphant moments in our tiny classroom. The joy of reaching children like this and sharing hope with them is unmatchable. I haven’t taught in a while, now that my kids are a little older, this makes me yearn to go back to the classroom.
Thank you, Shanna. On a daily basis, I celebrate teachers — in special education and general education — for the work they do is grossly under-appreciated an under-valued. Some of the teachers I have been blessed to teach with — and the teachers of my daughters — do the work of angels. I hope you follow that yearning and go back to teaching in whatever capacity you can. Thank you for sharing.
I too was a teacher to inner-city children (pre-k) before I became a mother. Your story is beautiful and there needs to be many, many more teachers (and parents) out there like you that are willing to try to find the light and hope in all children no matter their history or their current behavior trends. I’m sure you touched those children’s lives in ways that they will never forget.
But good golly, 12 children and only 2 teachers in one special ed class, especially and alternative class? That seems crazy and i imagine very tough.
Thank you for this article.
Thank you, Yuki. I will admit, that school year was very challenging. I cried driving to work almost every day, but those children gave me life lessons that are now worth more than gold. I try to remember that when I am going through a challenging time — that if I can keep putting one foot in front of the other, the lessons I will gain will be invaluable. I think about every one of those kids and wish so much I could talk to them now and tell them I still believe in them. I appreciate you taking the time to comment!
Wow. So incredibly well written. With tears in my eyes I must tell you that I am so touched by this piece… Not sure if its because of your experience, the fact that my own four kids are growing up,or simply your message here of the tenacity of the human spirit. Either way, bravo to you and your partner for touching these children in ways they may have never known and for sharing it with all of us.
You certainly know how to make a person’s day, Vedette. What a beautiful comment. Thank you so much.
Absolutely beautiful and incredibly inspiring!
I love this so much! I have a daughter that is a second grade teacher and year after year I get to hear her stories of her students. I have a sister that is a special ed teacher and listening to her stories brings me to tear every time. I will be passing this article on to them. I also love the message of finding fertile ground with my little’s but in sitting here thinking about it, I realize it can be applied with my bigs(my adult children) as well. Blessings to you and yours!
Oh, I just love the point you made here, Lori! Yes, this message can be applied to adult children, too … for we all get lost in hopelessness at times and sometimes we need a loving hand to point us in the direction of fertile ground. My mom often reminds me of my gifts and my passions when I am feeling discouraged. Such guidance and concern is truly gift to give another human being.
I am so glad those kids had you and the other teacher in their lives! Like you said, I’m sure they lived for those Thursdays. I’m also sure that in most, if not all of their lives, you were the first person to make them feel special and cared for, and that had to make such an impact on their futures.
I think I told you before that I worked in a Head Start classroom with children like the ones in this post, and how I wish we had been allowed to take them skating! I can only hope that I also made them feel special and cared for, for the short time I was in their lives.
Like you said, I learned so many parenting lessons by being a teacher. On the flip side, now that I am a parent, I am positive that I would be a better teacher.
That is so true, Jen. Now that I am a parent and have the opportunity to teach a child, I think, “This is someone’s precious baby.” I try to treat all children like I would my own. I am certain the children you worked with in Head Start were touched by your loving presence. Just having one adult who believes in you — even if it is not your parent — can make a tremendous difference in whether a child believes he CAN make something of himself. Thank you for your comment. I always enjoy your perspective and thoughtful insights.
Thank you for this article- I needed these words today. To not give up on my child or my marriage. To push back that feeling of hoplessness.
Thank you!
Thank you, Erica. Hang in there, friend. Thinking of you today with peace and hope on my heart.
Like usual, so touching I cried.
I’m studying in Special Education as well, and this sums it all up. the happiness of building up a child.
Also, ”Neal” takes an ”e”
Neale is one of my mentors and I love him dearly, too.
Wow! This is my first year homeschooling. My son has his own set of ‘developmental issues’ and I think this post explains why homeschooling is working for us. It’s working because it is giving him the fertile ground to be accepted!
How beautiful to have discovered what works for your son! Best wishes for continued prosperity and hope!!! Thanks for the comment!
I LOVE your blogs. I am always so encouraged and uplifted with what I read. What a lovely story..I’ve also worked in special ed. so can relate to those experiences. I truly think you are a remarkable human being and have a very powerful message to share to parents xo
Thank you, Tara. What a kind and encouraging thing to tell me. I am so grateful.
Rachel,
I, too, remember those students well. They still inhabit my dreams at times, and I send up a silent prayer for their well being every time they float through. I hold on to the knowledge that we touched their lives and maybe even became the whisper of angel wings on their shoulders as they moved through life. I am profoundly changed because of knowing them and knowing of their lives.
What an exquisite and touching sentiment, Becky … to be the whisper of angel wings on their shoulders as they move through life. I will remember that.
And what I didn’t say in this post is that this grand miracle on the skating rink would have never happened without the incredible support of you and Tom. I still remember sitting in your office with tears pouring down my cheeks and you telling me that you would do anything … anything at all … to support me and our class. And you did every single time we needed help. Couldn’t have survived that year without you. xoxo
Beautiful, beautiful post. I can’t even imagine what it meant to those kids to skate every single Thursday. I’ll bet it’s one of the best memories of their entire lives. What a fantastic lesson to be gleaned from this experience. It has brought me great pause. Thank you, thank you. Much love, Lori
Well, you did it again. Clicking, quickly this time (I might add), on your email in my Inbox, I was hopeful to read another “life-changer”. And you did it with ease, my Friend. Thank you so very much for your selfless work in not only teaching, but also raising – I know, hard to admit – these precious children. My sister is a Special Ed. teacher in Tennessee, 30+ years, and her unending patience with and copious amounts of unconditional love for her “kids” all came rushing back to me. “Look for the good in ‘em, Jen,” is something I try to constantly remind myself to do. I’m all over it now – with increased vigor – after reading this. My 8-year-old so deserves it. Thanks again, Rachel. I can feel your heart from here.
Wow…your way of expressing in words brings this to life so well, and really brings to light how important “being free” time is. It is times like this in which children can truly grow in spirit, perspective, and possibility. Thank you for all that you do and all that you are. You are truly, truly making a difference in children’s lives!
I had the wonderful experience early this fall of giving field trip tours to school children at a local farm. Now, this was not something I could have imagined myself doing for a living, ever–but had gone into it with an open mind. Oh, how those children taught me! Many were inner-city kids who, if you can fathom it, had never seen or been to a real farm, much less been able to venture very far out of their own urban neighborhoods. One little boy remarked that it was like going to Disneyland! Well, that really opened my eyes. The opportunity to tour a farm, pick pumpkins of their very own, and play on the activities set up for them (such as a castle made of straw, and a maze in the corn field) delighted these children. To my surprise, the inner city children were ALWAYS better behaved and more appreciative than the more privileged and refined children. It broke stereotypes too.
There would always be at least one child who would buddy up to me, and we would talk about this and that, and who could resist holding those little hands? At the end of every single tour, I was barraged with hugs and “thank you”s, and every time I waved goodbye as a bus was pulling out of the lot, I got choked up. I would miss them, and I would ask blessings for them. The experience sure blessed me and taught me so much.
Dear Rachel,
It is a beautiful, beautiful post. In every human-being, there is a good and bad side, simultaneously. If we try to find the good side, that makes that person and us really happy and satisfied. GIVING -UP should not be in anybody’s life-dictionary. You are a very best MENTOR. The world really needs mentors like you……:):):)
Such a beautiful testimony, and such a very real story of how human beings are always full to the brim of treasures, even if their environment/circumstances have been less than ideal.
Chills. Thank you for sharing!
Great post! Thanks so much for sharing. Shows the importance of having social emotional skills in place to help kids feel good about themselves and they can focus on learning!
Love your story, Rachel. I’ve seen it work in music education as well. It amazes me what kids can do when someone has the patience and strength to believe in them.
I really like how you focused on the importance of “finding that place.” I want to read the The Element, by Sir Ken Robinson where he speaks about this very subject. It’s so vital to our long-time success and happiness.
This brought tears to my eyes. I too taught special education, a classroom of junior high kids with behavioral challenges. Kids who threw chairs, who ran away, who threw tantrums in the middle of the hallway. It was an incredible experience, even though there were days I wasn’t sure I knew what to do.
One of my kids had been given Ds in special ed before me. We changed their behavioral program and worked on building up the kids instead of having them constantly punished. It wasn’t perfect. The kids still had the issues they arrived with. But there was a change.
After our fire, one of the moms sent me a card and told me what a difference that semester made in her son’s life. Those words will stay with me forever. Kind words, building people up, it changes lives. I have too often forgotten this.
I love the hope and strength conveyed in this post, and the challenge at the end is a wonderful way to start off my weekend.
I am so grateful for teachers like you, who are dedicated to seeing and nurturing that spark of divinity which exists in all people…and in some of the most challenging of situations.
As a parent of a child with emotional and behavioral needs, it has been so difficult to find the right placement and, though I tried to love him all better in a home schooling setting, it was not a successful experience for us.
He is now in an Intermediate Unit setting and – while we still have a lot of work to do, the support of (most) of the staff has been very helpful in dealing with some extremely trying issues.
Your post made me think of something the bright eyes of my 8 year old inquisitive boy observed about his own teacher: “Mommy, some people are just in a job for the money, but you can tell Ms. D is in it because she really loves the kids.”
Thank you for being one of those – and inspiring so many others!