Tears and The Tough One

Years ago, a few weeks before the start of my first year teaching, everyone I met told me tales of "The Tough One."

"There's one in every class," teaching veterans, parents and peers who had never stood on the other side of the podium warned me. 

"Don't smile."

"Maintain eye contact."

"Take control."

"Show no fear."

"Show no mercy."

The list went on...

I began to imagine myself confronted by a classroom teeming with Tough Ones, the ring leader rallying the masses, leaving me quivering before the world's most terrifying 15-year-olds.

As it turned out, my first classes of students, many of whom had tough lives outside of the classroom, found school to be a safe place, a place to put the toughness aside, to open their minds and to develop new ideas and confident ways of expressing ideas. 

For the most part.

There were a few Tough Ones- a few particularly tough days.  But in my first year I, like so many teachers, learned that "The Tough One" always has a story.  She may be the weak one in her own home.  He may struggle with self esteem or confidence.  She may need someone to be kind and supportive- someone to listen before reacting; connect as an individual before assuming and labeling.

Years later, when I stepped into My Tiny Schoolhouse, full of First through Fourth Graders, I wasn't thinking about "The Tough One."  I marveled at the size of the desks and the fact that you have to remind the students how to use the lines on a page of notebook paper.

As the days went on and the children became more comfortable, our "Tough One" emerged.  He was the smallest, though he was not the youngest.

He did his best to bend the class to his will- he tried interrupting, getting out of his seat, in extreme cases, he tried taunting his classmates.

In the moment, you can start to forget that this child is between the ages of six and ten.  You can start to resent his attempt at taking over your classroom, your plans for the day.  You can be tempted to treat him like an adult, or an adversary.

What I learned with our Tough One this summer is that he is also the first to cry- when he loses a game or answers a question incorrectly. 

He is smart and he is scared.  And he is shy. 

As teachers- the new and the veteran- head back to school, I have my own bit of advice about the Tough One.  Think of him or her as the Sensitive One.  The one who needs your patience, your discipline and your professional attention. 

You may be the one he or she looks most forward to seeing each day.  You may be the one he needs on his side the most- to encourage, to motivate and to teach.