Women's Lib in the Classroom

I have to give you some back story first before I get to the classroom part.  I have to show you how precious this issue is to me.

I'm definitely a feminist.  I was probably a feminist for a long time but I claimed the word in college when my friend Tracy and I put on a Women's Week- a week of events at our college focused on women's issues.

I got to know Mr. Husband during this week when he volunteered to help out.  I know you cynics are raising an eyebrow and thinking, "Oh sure, he wanted to "help out" with Women's Week."  You're thinking he volunteered because he wanted to get close to me. I stand by the truth that he was and is a solid feminist himself.

However, I just asked him about this.

Did you want to help with the week because you believed in the cause or you wanted to kiss me?

I don't remember, he said,  probably both.  Ah, well.....good enough.

One more family story- A few months ago I was driving with my 16 year old son.  I'm not sure what we were talking about, but somehow the topic of feminism came up and he casually referred to himself as a feminist.

I had to grip the steering wheel, because in that moment it was like the heavens parted and the angels started to sing.  I had raised a boy, a 16 year old, who called himself a feminist.  I could die now with that achievement.

In fact, I told this story a few weeks later to my dear friends, Amy, Cathy, and Wendy at dinner and they were so excited and proud that they toasted me!

Okay, you get the point- so feminism, equal rights- very important to me- a core value in my life.  

Fast forward to my classroom now- full of kids from all over the world, many from places in the Middle East that have very different notions of a woman's place in the world.

Usually, I think about this more with the girls from the Middle East. The majority are here temporarily.   They come here and they wear skinny jeans and they don't cover their heads and they have classes with boys and it all kind of blows my mind.  I wonder how hard it might be for them to return to their countries and resume their roles there.  Some have talked about it.  Some have said they prefer life here and the way women are treated.

Kind of surprisingly, the Middle Eastern boys normally adapt pretty well.   I think they know ahead of time that they're going to be in school with girls, have female teachers, that things are very different here.  I know they have different thoughts on the whole issue but for the most part, they go with the flow.

Enter Student N. this past winter.  Yea, not so much for going with the flow.  He had very little English and so I was going slow with him anyway.

During Math, we work in small groups and I asked him to come sit by me so I could assess where he was and work with him.  I used simple language and pointed at him and the chair next to me and waved him over.  He shook his head.

I tried again, this time with a big smile.  Head shake.

Okay, maybe he's not getting it.  I asked a student to go explain to him in Arabic what I wanted.  I watched the interaction out of the corner of my eye.

I saw a 3rd head shake.

I asked my student interpreter what Student N. said.  My interpreter looked really uncomfortable.  He didn't want to say.  I told him to just give it to me straight.

"Umm, well, uh, Miss, well he said that, um, he can't sit by you or work with you because you're a woman."

A little part of my head exploded but I keep it under control and I said to my student interpreter,  "Well, okay, I'm sure this school is very different for him and I can understand that.  But, I am his teacher now so we'll have to find a way to work it out. Can you tell him I said that?"

Student interpreter delivered the message to student N.  Who did, Guess what?  SHOOK HIS HEAD.  His favorite thing, I think.

I let it go in that moment, because, baby steps, right?  And, besides, I was really busy with other needy students who were practically sitting on top of me, begging for help and attention.

Later that week, my colleague had a similar interaction with Student N., but she went all in.  All in with her gentle way. Dealt with it head on.   She told him she knew that this set-up was new, different, and strange.  She talked about her own experiences being a newcomer in both Germany and the U.S.  She reached out, she commiserated, but she also held the line...  She is his teacher now.  I am his teacher now.  We deserve respect.

He didn't shake his head this time.  He looked pretty skeptical, but he didn't shake his head.  I think he even smiled a bit and he had a nice smile.

Student N. didn't stay long in our program.  He was difficult.  He was challenging.  He came around a little, but not a lot.  We tried hard with him.

I wonder sometimes if we made a dent in his opinions about men and women.  I wonder if anything we said or did had an impact.  I thought about our conversations and interactions with him and wonder what I could have done better or differently.  I wondered what was most effective.

Then, I actually remembered one thing I saw that seemed to work with him one day.  We play chess every day in our program.  One day his partner was a girl.  He didn't want to play a girl.  He did the head shake thing.  His opponent, (sweet girl from Central America)  looked like she wanted to punch him.  We were tyring different things to convince him to play her.  We were going soft, then we were being firm.

I know you're not supposed to get in power struggles with students, but I was ready to go down in flames to win this one.  On this particular day, I had enough of this particular issue, and he was going to play chess with this particular girl.

Finally, one of his buddies went up to him and said a bunch of stuff in Arabic and then he clapped him loudly on the back and said, "You in America now, man!!!!"    Now, why didn't I think of that????

Then Student N. smiled and played chess with the girl.  And lost.  Ouch.

Baby steps.

Oh, and for the record, I did kiss Mr. Husband at the end of Women's Week......

How to say goodbye?

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” 
― Kahlil Gibran

This year saying goodbye to students was, well, rather gut-wrenching.  I'm still trying to process it all.

In our program, we get so close to the students.  They are with us all day.  They are so needy and often fragile at first.  We're not just teaching English- we're teaching them about how to live in this new world called America.  We're helping kids from different parts of the world get along and forge friendships.  Many have been through some pretty horrific things and they may not talk directly about this trauma, but we're helping them put their hearts back together and feel the safety that every human should know.

So, saying goodbye at the end of the school year turns out to be a complicated, messy, heartbreaking experience.....But one week ago today, I faced it and said goodbye.  I said goodbye to kids who have completed the requirements for our program and are spreading out to 4 different high schools in town  and 2 other middle schools.  I said goodbye to kids who were just here temporarily and are now going back to their home countries.  I said goodbye with the biggest lump in my throat I have ever known on closing day....

I laughed. I cried.  I hugged.  I tried to say just the right thing.
So. Very. Difficult.
How does one say goodbye to these precious kids?   How does one let go?

How do you say goodbye to the stunningly beautiful girl who wasn't at school much because she was getting treated for cancer?  Yet, when she came, she worked so hard and with such a zeal, it amazed you.  Everyone loved her because she was gorgeous inside and out.  She finally finished her treatment and was around the last few weeks.  And, on the last day she asked if she could say something to the whole class.  And, she stood and pulled out a page she had written and thanked everyone for their support and said how much she loved being here and how she would never forget us.

How do you say goodbye to the sweet-faced boy from one of the scariest places in the world who went from seeming afraid and jumpy to being a kid who skipped into school with an enormous smile on his face every day?

How do you say goodbye to the girl returning to her country who says plainly that she doesn't want to go back, that she likes it here so much?  The same girl who was so quiet and so reserved, but slowly came out of her shell.  The same girl who asked if she could play her violin for the whole class and they were silent while she played- the kind of silent when you get to watch someone be in their moment and do something they love- and then the whole class broke  out in raucous applause when she finished.  And, she grinned from ear to ear....

How do you say goodbye to the boy with the gentlest soul and spirit who wrote you a letter about how important teachers are and how they must be respected? The letter you still have hanging by your desk.

How do you say goodbye to the girl who was so closed and guarded but slowly, slowly started to let you and others in?  You sat with her one day this spring and helped her with her autobiography and it was only then that you realized what she had lost and you looked at her and told her in Spanish so no one else understood, "I'm so sorry.  I didn't know.  You've been through so much."  And, she cried quietly and she lets you take her hand.....

How do you say goodbye to the 15 year old, 6 foot tall young man whom you and your colleague call the peacemaker?  This student speaks the two most common languages in our program and so helped us resolve conflicts between countless kids.  It wasn't just the fact that he knew these languages. It was the leadership, humor, and warm spirit he brought to these interactions that made the difference.  The moment this boy hugged me tight, started crying,  and whispered, "Thank you for everything, miss. I'll never forget you." is the moment I lost it and just began weeping openly.  Then he pulled this beautiful camel out and pressed it into my hands and said it came from his country and it was for me.

How. To. Say. Goodbye?

I knew it was going to be hard.  I kind of tried to prepare myself.  I even thought about being stoic and trying to keep myself removed from the emotion of it all.  But, that is SO not me and who I am.

So, as the title says, I said goodbye with an open heart.  With hugs. With tears.  With laughter.  With heartfelt words.  With words of encouragement, love, and support.  I did my best.  I offered my open heart to the beauty that is these students.

And, I looked around that room and I saw 40 kids hugging each other, enjoying each other, exchanging numbers and addresses,  many crying, some sobbing.  And, I saw again that these kids from such different cultures and countries were joined together and had created these amazing friendships. And, it was SO beautiful.  It was so lovely.  And, I knew I had a part in that.  I knew I had at least a small part in the creation of this little happy piece of the word where differences melt away and kids from very different worlds learn to be friends.

And, I realized that if it wasn't so special and precious, it wouldn't hurt so much.   And, thinking about it that way, well.... that actually made it hurt a little less.

Welcoming new refugees, How to say good morning to your colleagues, and Kissing at the end of the day

I just got back from church (a.k.a. running in nature with my dog).  While I was running, I mulled over 2 blog topics for today.  In the first one I was going to write about standardized testing and it was going to be strong and pointed and I was going to use research and data.  I started running slower just thinking about it- it just felt so heavy and negative.

So, this is the other post and I am going to show you how the topics in the title all connect.

On Friday, I got to do one of my favorite things at work and that is welcoming a new student to our center and her family to our community.  We got a student from a new refugee group to our city. They have been through a lot.  Their caseworker brought mom, dad, student, and her little sister to meet us.

I love to be the welcoming committee.  I look at them and smile my biggest smile and tell them how glad we are that they're here.  Welcome to the United States and welcome to the community.  This is a great place.  We'll help you.  I tell them I  can only imagine how hard life has been in the past few years, and I know everything must be very overwhelming right now, but we're here to help.  I tell them I'll take care of their daughter.  The parents started to smile; their shoulders relaxed a little; and they seemed more at ease...  There are many things I'm not good at, but welcoming new students, I can do.

This got me to thinking about how we all just want to be "seen".  How do we acknowledge people in our lives every day?  How do we stop and say, just for a moment, "I see you.  I'm glad you're here.  You're valuable. I want to know your story.  I want to know you."  As with many things, this starts in the smallest way, in the most personal way, and then extends out to the rest of your life.

So, I welcome new refugees to our community.  How do I greet my students every day?  How do I interact with my colleagues?  How do I connect with my own family when I get home?

My colleague says her favorite part of the school day is greeting our students in the morning.  I so agree.  Our kids are happy to be there. We get hugs, hand shakes, high fives, lots of smiles.  I'm willing to concede that not all middle-schoolers act this way and that's why I love this job and I'm stickin' with it.

Don't forget to say hello to your students.  It's SO basic, but it doesn't always happen in classrooms.  Let them know that you're glad to see them.  If you're having a bad day, fake it.  It's not their fault.  I also teach my students how to say hello to each other during our morning meeting and I like to think they'll carry this skill with them for the rest of their lives.

On to your colleagues who you spend more time with than your family some days, so let's enjoy each other.  We're at a new school this year so I'm still meeting people.  One of my colleagues officially introduced himself to me about a month ago, and he said he knew that I was one of the teachers in the center but he just hadn't had a chance to say hello.  He said that he had noticed me because "I walked around with a big smile on my face and always said hello."  I really cracked up at this.  I know it's true, and it's not fake.  I'm just a BIG believer in saying hello and good morning And, the smile is genuine and natural.  You get back what you put out.  And, besides, I think my smile is one of my better features.  I have dimples from my mom who got them from my grandpa, And, you gotta use what you got, right?

I once worked at a job and when I was new, I started to notice that not everybody said hello, EVEN if you said hello first.  The first few times this happened to me, I got paranoid and rushed to look into a mirror to see if I had something disgusting hanging from my nose.  Nope.  I continued to say hello anyway.

I have a friend who is a retired teacher and a runner and probably the most positive person I have ever met in my life.  He did an experiment once.  He collected data while running about how many people said hello to him.  His statistical analysis revealed that people almost always say hello back if you say it first.  His conclusion- put out what you want to get back.

Okay, so now you're tired and you've been positive and connected with colleagues and students all day.  You just want to go home and have some peace and quiet.  But, now you're going to be with the most important people of all- your family and they need you, too.  And, you need them.

"Does your face light up when your children walk into the room?"  asks brilliant author Toni Morrison. If it does, that's good, because then your face shows your children what you feel in your heart.  The first thing I do when I get home is to kiss and hug my children, now 12 and 16, and it's an essential part of our day.

Mr. Husband is a specialist in reconnecting at the end of the day.  He has helped me get better at this and focus on what's really important.  He'll always greet us all as soon as he gets home.  If I try to brush him off or give him a quick, fake kiss, he always calls me on it. He says something like,  "Come on, just slow down for a minute.  Don't be lame!  Give me the real deal!."  Then I do, with the kids groaning in the background.

Something so small, yet with the ability to have such a huge impact- how we say hello, how we smile at people,  and how we welcome them.  Small gestures that can mean so much.

What are you reading now?

I am always reading something, always.  Right now there are no fewer than 20 books on my nightstand waiting to be read.  There are at least 5 books loaded on my Nook that I haven't gotten to. I know that's a little ridiculous.  What happens is that I hear an interview on NPR or I read a review of a new book or a friend or colleague tells me of a great read, and I just HAVE to get it immediately.  Some women buy shoes and make-up, I have a book problem.

I always make time to read, even when I am crazy busy.  Reading is like breathing to me.  I must do it every day or I don't feel right.  I don't really get it when people say they don't have time to read.  I mean, just don't dust as often, right?  :)   Reading gives me so much comfort and joy.  It has helped me so many times in my life.  Reading is a faithful and loyal companion.

Usually I have two books going at once- one fiction and one non-fiction.  Often the non-fiction is about teaching, refugees, a certain country or part of the world.  For the past few months, I have been slowly and steadily moving through The Courage to Teach  by Parker Palmer.  It is not an easy read but it is a profound read.  It's challenging and I only read a few pages in a sitting and often I have to re-read passages to make sure I understand them, but I love it.

This book was referenced at my state English Learner conference in the fall.  When I got back from the conference I found the book at a bookstore and I read the back cover:

I am a teacher at heart, and there are moments in the classroom when I can hardly hold the joy...But at  other moments, the classroom is so lifeless or painful or confused- and I am so powerless to do anything about it---that my claim to be a teacher seems a transparent sham...If you are a teachers who never has bad days, or who has them but does not care, this book is not for you.  This book is for teachers who have good days and bad, and whose bad days bring the suffering that comes only from something one loves.  It is for teachers who refuse to harden their hearts because they love learners, learning, and the teaching life.  

Was Parker Palmer speaking directly to me?  Well, that's how I felt.  This book is about the inner landscape of a teacher's life.  It is about learning how to teach in what is sometimes a toxic environment but never losing the passion and fire for your students and their learning.  It is not about specific techniques in teaching.  Rather it is about the necessity of being true and honest in the classroom and connecting with the human beings, your students, that you are in front of.  It is really a beautiful book and it is helping me so much.


There are many other books that have influenced my teaching, but I'd like to hear from you.  Will you do me a favor and reply on my blog with your favorite books about teaching?  I would love to hear about the books on teachers and teaching that have meant something to you.

Anyone can reply by hitting the "Comments" button on the bottom of the post and posting under "Anonymous".  You can leave your name if you want, but you don't need to.

Happy reading.  It's spring break and I have 3 books going right now.  :)

Miss

Happy Birthday, Mr. Rogers.

Friday was Fred Roger's birthday.  He really exemplifies the kind of teacher and human being I want to be- calm, loving, full of spirit, open-hearted, open-minded.

I re-read my post from last week and winced a bit.  It's honest but kind of angry.  A week later, I can see that underneath that anger is pain and sadness.  And, probably fear.  I feel so strongly about my students and helping them and when it seems like they're not valued, I sometimes find myself so distraught I don't know what to do......

Fred Rogers was one of the fiercest advocates ever for children.  He spoke gently and calmly and people listened to him. He was so genuine and warm that he just pulled you in.

This weekend I am filled with hope again.  A couple of great things happened at work this week which I'll write about in more detail some other time.  Basically, others came forward and said these kids do matter and they're amazing and we honor you for the work you're doing.  I'm not embarrassed to say that it felt good- we all need support, encouragement, and validation.

So, the quote above resonates with me this week.  Last week I felt so gloomy about teaching.  But, I learned this week that if you keep your heart open and you look around for your friends and allies, they are there, and things will get better.

Take a few minutes and connect to this article about the life lessons Mr. Rogers taught us.
There are 2 amazing video clips in there that you just have to see.

One is him testifying to Congress to get more funding for his programing.  He completely disarms the politicians with his warmth and sincerity.  The judge on the panel says,  "I'm supposed to be a pretty tough guy, but his is the first time I've had goosebumps in two days."

The other clip is Mr. Rogers accepting a life-time achievements award at the Emmy's.  There he is accepting this award in Hollywood with all these fancy people and he continues to be exactly who he is..... and he is loved for it.

So, happy birthday, Fred Rogers.
 "Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me".

Life lessons from Mr. Rogers

Discouraged

I wasn't going to post at all this weekend because I don't think I have anything uplifting to say.  But, then I thought that writing might help me, and I started this blog to be authentic. Authentic is not always cheerful, so here goes....

 It was a tough week- the kind of week I wonder how much longer I can sustain this job as a teacher.  I would really like to be a teacher for another 15-20 years but I'm often wondering these days if that's going to be possible.

 I talked with two teaching colleagues after work on Friday.  We were trying to figure out how to best address a problem and I felt frustrated because I usually have some solutions and ideas but I didn't have much to offer. The systems we work in just seem so complicated and it seems like no one wants to listen.  I left feeling pretty negative and sad.  And I think they felt the same way- kind of defeated.  And, that made me feel like crying because I know these two are amazing, committed, passionate teachers and too many wonderful teachers are feeling this way these days.....

"America is demanding too much from its teachers without giving them the proper support to educate students effectively. Commitment, caring, pushing for results, and putting in a full work's day no longer seem to be enough...Often, I felt like a soldier dropped behind enemy lines with nothing more than orders. No weapon. No helmet. No hope of reinforcements."  wrote John Owens, in Confessions of a Bad Teacher.  

50%  of teachers are leaving the profession within the first five years according to recent reports.  The reports say that they're leaving because of lack of support and help. They find the job and the problems the kids bring just too overwhelming and they don't get the help they need to help the kids. These teachers don't leave because they don't care. They don't quit because they don't love their students and want to help them. They leave because it's too hard and no one is listening. This statistic should absolutely shock- it should compel a call for reform so loud it can't be ignored.

Teaching is an interesting profession. Everybody has an opinion.  Everybody thinks they're an expert on teaching and freely feel they can give advice.  Why is this?  Because we all went to school once? 

 A couple of years ago I was on a committee that included community members and I was absolutely astounded at the lack of willingness from some people to listen to what the educators had to say about our field.  They were sure they knew better than all of us. It was as if my master's degree in Teaching English as a Second Language and my 20 years of experience in the classroom had no value.  They didn't even want to know about the established research that informed my teaching practice.  They knew better.  The audacity and arrogance floored me.  

And, it made me want to drop by the closest seminar for surgeons and stand up and share all my expertise and the way to do surgery since I had once had my gall bladder removed.  

 I'll just go all the way here as long as I'm venting and say that when you work with English Learners, immigrants and refugees, you get even more advice and criticism.  Ours is a complicated teaching field because it gets all mixed up with people's politics, fear, prejudices, and assumptions about immigrants.  

So many people in our country and our own community and even some teachers in our very own school buildings, look at these children as a drain and a deficit.  They pull down scores.  They need extra help.  They don't speak English for God's sake.  

When I look at these English Learners, these resilient and brave immigrants and refugees, do you know what I see?  I see the future of our country.  I see kids who once they master English, and THEY WILL, (provided they are given the appropriate teaching, time and support, ) will be members of our community who speak 2, 3, 4 languages, who are able to navigate seamlessly between cultures.  I SEE VALUE!!!! I SEE ASSETS!!!  I know when you type in capital letters, it's like you're yelling, and yeah, I guess I am yelling.  I want to be listened to.  

So, back to the original question of how much longer can I possibly do this crazy job?  I'm really not sure today.  

I have a wonderful aunt who was an early childhood special education teacher for many years and she just always simply advises me to do it for as long as I can.  That for however long I can hang in there and teach, it will be a benefit for the kids I work with and for public education.  

I actually feel less discouraged right now after writing this post.  I feel more like fighting and advocating, because when I think about giving up, I see my students' faces, and they so badly need fighters and advocates who love them and believe in them.  

I'll take a deep breath.  I'll smile. I'll focus on the positive and try to make change where I can, even if it's in the smallest way.   I'll continue to put my heart on the school table. 
 I'm a teacher, after all, and that is something.  That is really something........right?????

"Kids don't learn from people they don't like."

What are the conditions that I create in a classroom so kids will learn?  What is the energy, the atmosphere,  the climate in my classroom?  Does it lift children up or tear them down?

"Kids don't learn from people they don't like", said the late Rita Pierson, in one of the most beautiful and inspiring TED talks on education I have ever watched.  I link to it at the end of this post.

And, I'd like to add:  Kids don't learn much from teachers who don't seem to like them.  And, they are so sharp that they can spot a teacher who doesn't like them or is annoyed by them a mile away.

Can you think of a teacher who really supported you and lifted you up- who seemed genuinely happy to see you when you walked into the classroom every day?  I've had many of these and I learned a lot from them.  I felt comfortable taking risks in their classroom.  I felt I could make mistakes and I learned.

Now can you think of teacher you had that seemed almost irritated when the class showed up, who seemed to hate his job, who taught with contempt and  ridicule?  How well did you learn?  What are your feelings  when you summon that experience in your mind and heart?

I had a Spanish professor in college who once actually made fun of the way some of us were speaking Spanish. Can you even imagine?! He mocked our pronunciation in front of the whole class.  At the time, I felt deep shame and embarrassment and I almost let his arrogance take something away from me that I love- learning Spanish.   I knew what he was doing was wrong and my friend and I complained bitterly about him to each other and gave him the worst possible evaluation when it came time to do it, but he remained on the faculty.

Even my 20 year old self knew that he was a bad teacher and he was doing all the wrong things.  Now that I've become a language teacher myself, I'm absolutely appalled about how he was allowed to remain a professor there and continue to terrorize in his classroom.  I didn't learn from him either- in fact, I grew more self-conscious about my speaking abilities in Spanish and it took some really hard work and courage on my part to break through that.

I have a student right now who arrived just two months ago.  He doesn't say much yet but he has this enormous, beautiful smile that he regularly flashes at me.

When we do math, we work in small groups at tables and I sit with the kids and help them.  When he first started, he seemed so unsure of everything, kind of fragile and lost.  I had him sit right next to me in math and I noticed that when I explained something to him, he often physically leaned on me.  I'm not sure what was going on- maybe he just needed some human warmth, maybe his culture doesn't have the hang-ups about personal space that we have, maybe he needed someone to hold him up for a while. I just let him lean away. It seemed to help him.This child is sharp; he gets things very quickly and he works so hard- He has firmly implanted himself in my heart. Oh, he has such a long way to go, but I know he's going to make it.

This past week he got the lowest score on a unit test I gave my class.  He was the one I complimented the most.  Considering where he started the fact that he got 10/20 was a huge accomplishment, a victory.  He glanced around and I know he realized that his score was low compared to the others.

 He still doesn't understand a lot, so I used a lot of gestures and slowly I said to him, "Today you got 10/20.  Next time you'll get 12/20, the time after that 14/20, and you'll keep going up, up, up. I'm so proud of you.  You're making me happy."  I put my hand on my heart, pointed at him, and  smiled as big as I could.  Then I proceeded to give him every non-verbal sign of approval I could- a high-five, a fist bump, a thumbs up, and a side hug.  I just wanted to be ABSOLUTELY sure he got the message.  He got it......He actually started looking sort of embarrassed about all the fuss I was making :)

So, you can't just be an expert in your subject matter to teach.  You've got to genuinely like your students. You have to be interested in them.  You have to want to know about them.  You've got to see their strengths and abilities.   You have to be their champion.  YOU are the one on their side.

I think my students are fascinating.  They are 11, 12, 13, and 14 year olds, yet they have already lived so much in their young lives.  We just started having them  write their autobiographies.  We've been doing a  lot of small group work on this.  As they write, we have a lot of conversations as we try to coax more details into their stories.

One of my students was talking  about this project to me and reflecting on school in his former country.  He said that the great thing about school in America is that the teachers are really interested in you; they ask a lot of questions about your life. He said that really surprised him about school here but he liked it.    He went on, "Miss, in my country, you come into the classroom, and the teacher says, 'Shut up, Sit down, and I'll tell you what you need to know.' Here the teachers want to know you."

Don't we all learn better from someone who genuinely seems interested in us?  Who seems to like us?  Who is not only on our side but is cheering us on?  Who makes the time and effort to make a connection with us, build a relationship with us?

Now, please take 7 minutes and 48 seconds and watch this talk from Rita Pierson.  It makes me want to stand up and cheer:

Rita Pierson- "Every Kid Needs a Champion."