being nice

Our school psychologist, one of the many people who helped make the decision on David’s placement, stopped by today after the children left to see how things were going. It was a rough morning, of course, with Nan having to give David and Max all of her attention and skills. She was amazing, and they made it through, but David threw stuff, kicked a girl, kicked Nan, tried to kick me, and missed all of morning meeting and story time. Max had several meltdowns and spent a lot of time with Nan out in the hall talking about all the things of which he is afraid.

(After she had to carry him on the bus because he was afraid to get on, she told me, “I’m not sure he’s going to make it in our classroom, either.”)

Anyway, the psychologist is supposed to be working at another school tomorrow, but he said that things were mellow over there and we needed him more, so he changed his schedule so he could be in my room to help me and Nan tomorrow.

I drove home marveling about that. School psychologists don’t usually spend a ton of time in classrooms, and I’ve never known one to change his schedule to do so. I don’t think he would extend himself to help me if he didn’t think I was worth helping. And I’m guessing he’s willing to help me because I’m nice, and I’m good at what I do.

Sometimes when you’re nice to people, they are nice to you.

Oh yeah, when I went to my children’s school to pick them up, I bumped into a former student and her aunt, who raved about what a wonderful teacher I was. That really made my day. And it made me think, I’m proud of my reputation, and it’s something I need to nurture and protect by going to work every single day and being the very best teacher I can be.