Conversation with a Student's Inner Dragon

Excerpt from "12 More Action Steps to a Coaching Classroom", on Amazon , by Martin Richards.

Teachers plan lessons with content and space. We reserve mental and physical space so we are able to respond to situations as they occur. Being comfortable with coaching we can leverage individual problems as learning opportunities for the whole class.

I was giving an inspirational talk to a class of refugee students who were in their final year. They were struggling against the clock, the syllabus and the emotional weight of being refugees.

I noticed a student who appeared to have very low energy. He was leaning forwards, staring down at the floor, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked like he might faint.

I slowly made my way around to where he was sitting. I knelt down beside him. I asked if he was okay.

The student looked at me and said, “Yes,” but his eyes said “no.”

I asked how he was feeling.

Sitting physically close to the student, mirroring his body language and tone of voice created a temporary confidentiality bubble around us.

The student paused before replying.

“Sad. I feel sad. I miss my family. My mother, my father, and my brothers were all left behind, and I am here for education. I must get an education to get a job; then I can bring them here.”

“How much do you miss them?” I asked.

“All the time,” he replied. “All the time. It hurts. I can’t focus on my work, and it makes me sad.”

“You feel sad and it hurts,” I repeated back. “You miss your parents because you love them, you love and respect them, and that hurts.” I looked at him.

“Yes,” he replied, looking up at me.

I continued, “You show respect for your family and it hurts all the time, and you cannot focus on your work. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel angry and I feel sad,” he replied.

“How long are you sad?” I asked.

“I am sad all day,” he said.

“How long do you want to be sad? I mean, how long do you want to show respect for your family and still focus on your work? For how long each day would be enough?”

He considered, then smiled. “Two hours,” he said. “That is enough.”

I pressed, “Two hours altogether, or two hours with one in the morning and one in the evening? Or something else?”

His eyes brightened and he said, “One hour in the morning before school and one hour in the evening before bedtime. I will show respect for my family and I won’t let it stop me from doing my work.”

The coaching bubble dissipated as we arrived at a choice.

Our attention shifted to the rest of the students in the room who had all been listening to us avidly.