I met Liam when he was a 2nd grader. He came to my special education classes and refused to do any work. He got into power struggles with staff. No matter what motivational or incentive systems we tried, he refused to engage with anyone. He appeared frustrated, sad, and oppositional, all at the same time. Day after day, it was the same scenario. He refused to let me into his world, and I felt like I was failing him.
A Chance to Reset
Liam came back the next year, and while still refusing to do any work most of the time, he did begin to smile weakly on rare occasions. Slowly, he began participating in some of my reading groups. But by October, he put on the brakes. We were headed to a repeat of the previous year, until the day I was called to his music class.
Liam sat at his desk, staring blankly into space and refusing to do any work. He didn't respond to anything I asked him or any consequence I tried to apply. After multiple unsuccessful attempts to engage him in a conversation about what was bothering him, I asked him to help me by letting me know how he felt. I wrote the words sad, angry, and tired on sticky notes and sat them in front of him. Slowly, Liam picked up the word sad. In an effort to distract him from his feelings, I asked him to help me with a chore in my classroom. In that moment, I had no idea what he was going to help me with, but he stood up and walked with me. I assured Liam that, whatever was bothering him, he didn't have to face it alone. And then I didn't say another word as we walked; neither did Liam. When we arrived in my classroom, I quickly grabbed some wipes and asked him to clean my classroom chairs. After he finished, he asked if he could do one more job before going to music class. He cleaned my whiteboard and then walked back to join his classmates.
Our Plan
During his 4th grade year, Liam still shut down on many occasions. He often refused to do assignments, avoided engaging in discussion, and appeared withdrawn and oppositional. "I don't care" was his go-to phrase. Feeling frustrated, I began to rely on more punitive measures to address his behavior. I could see that they weren't working, but I felt I just could not reach this student. Eventually he was suspended from school for making a threat toward another student. When Liam returned, I made an appointment with him and we made a plan.
Together, we decided that, when he was feeling frustrated, sad, or unable to complete work, he would signal me. When he used the signal, he and I would serve the school in some way. Some days, he didn't use a signal. Other days, he and I reorganized the office workroom, sharpened pencils, delivered mail to other teachers, or organized my classroom library. During these service times, Liam began to open up about things going on in his life: how he felt left behind by his biological father and how sad he was about a sibling in legal trouble. He also started to tell me about happier things: his favorite movies, his favorite video games, and what he liked to do on weekends. He began to ask me questions about my family. By giving Liam a way to participate in service and leadership tasks that supported his school community, I built his confidence and developed a relationship with him in a nonthreatening way. I didn't pressure Liam to talk to me, but instead, quietly supported him by doing jobs alongside him until he was ready to open up. Gradually, the days of resistance became less frequent, and he made progress on his personal and academic goals. He didn't request to participate in job duties during class time nearly as much, but he would stop by during recess or before school to see if any jobs needed his attention.
Continued Connections
The next year, I left the classroom to pursue a district-level teacher leadership position. Thankfully, the position allowed me to make frequent visits to my former classroom … and the biggest smile in the room was always from Liam. Relationships matter. It wasn't just Liam who changed. I grew as an educator when I looked beyond the refusals and power struggles to the person underneath. I learned to listen and look for the positive connections that could be a lifeline out of frustration and failure. Relationships change lives and open the door to cooperation and growth.
