A personal post about the child who made me realise the importance and value of coaching for young people. Originally published on 23rd August 2022.
“The kids that need the most love will ask for it in the most unloving ways” - Anonymous.
I never wanted to be a teacher. I went on a roundabout journey to get there - I used to work for a charity, teaching young homeless people skills which would help them to get a job and this sparked something in me, a satisfaction no other work had ever given me. That's why I chose to pursue teaching, and although I am now moving away from it into coaching, it's given me so much and I'm forever grateful for it.
In my second year as a teacher, I came across a child who changed it all for me. I'm not sure he ever knew just how deeply he affected me, so much so that I think of him still, five years later. People often say that a teacher can shape a child’s life, but I was so unprepared for how much he's shaped mine. He is the catalyst for my coaching career, and why I’ve chosen to focus on coaching children and teenagers, rather than adults.
This child, at 9 years old, had a reputation in the school as 'extremely challenging' and in all honesty, I was dreading having him in my class. The teacher who had him the previous year, now one of my dearest friends, told me she had specifically requested that he be in my class, and to say I was annoyed is putting it mildly! Now, I'm grateful and I can see it was exactly where he needed to be, and he was exactly who I needed too, but back then I was new to teaching and it seemed like it would be just too much of a challenge for me.
I spent the summer before that school year researching and preparing resources. I bought some reusable plastic ice cubes, put them in a jar labelled ‘N’s Cool Down Cubes’ and on our first day of school, I spoke to him honestly. I told him I know that he sometimes gets angry and finds it difficult to stay calm. I explained I’d like to help him with this, and crucially, I asked him if that was something he feels he would like help with. Why was this so important? I asked his permission to help him. In coaching, this is so important, because asking permission respects the boundaries we cannot see, creates rapport and makes people feel comfortable. Immediately, he responded positively to this; I saw the change in his body language, he sat up just that little bit taller, his face relaxed just that little bit more, and I saw just a hint of a smile. He was unsure, but he was interested. I explained that I want him to take ownership of controlling his emotions, that it isn’t for me to tell him how or when to do it, but that I will be there to support him along the way. I presented him with the cubes in a jar, we discussed what he thought would help him to calm down when he feels himself getting angry and we used a sharpie to write these onto his cubes, with the intention that when he felt angry he would select a cube at random and use it to help him to calm down. I then took all the ideas he had and created a basket for him, his own little emotional regulation centre. This was a child who had very little of his own belongings, so when I gave him the completed basket, his face lit up. One simple basket of things like a stress ball, a reading book, a couple of notebooks and colouring pencils, a timer and of course the cool down cubes, and it was as though I’d bought him the latest gaming console. This one act helped to establish the foundation of our relationship going forward, it built trust and respect, and I believe that it was this that allowed me to work effectively with him throughout the year.
However, just because we’d set a great foundation, doesn’t mean it was all smooth sailing from there. This child tested me. I cried, a lot. I used to go home exhausted every day; I spent my breaks and lunchtimes with him almost on a daily basis. He would dart around the school and I would have to follow him around (he'd tried to climb over the gate to leave school more than once) and the support from our senior leadership team was… honestly, there was none. My headteacher was a deer in the headlights when it came to interacting with this child and our SENDCo was overstretched. On top of his ADHD, I knew he had a lot to contend with in his home life, things no child should ever have to deal with. One day, before a holiday, I remember asking the class if any of them were going away for the break. He said he was going to Disneyland, and he spoke with such enthusiasm and in such detail about it that I almost could have believed he was going. I knew in my heart of hearts that he wasn’t and that this was a fantasy for him - he knew I love Disney and had just been in the summer for my honeymoon and I think he was trying to build more of a connection, some sort of a shared experience between us. It broke my heart.
He wasn’t a bad child, I need to make that clear. I don’t think there is really such a thing. He was a traumatised child, full of anger, hurt, disappointment and confusion. He was also one of the kindest children I’ve ever met, generous to a fault. He would be the first to offer to share things with the other children, anything except his basket which he guarded closely, and took with him when he left the school. He was a bright boy who just hadn’t had the best start to life.
Looking back now I can see that, although I didn’t know it then, throughout the year I was using coaching skills to help him to learn to regulate his more difficult emotions and he made huge progress, especially with controlling his anger and learning to vocalise how he was feeling instead. For him to be able to carry this forward in his life, it was crucial he took ownership of the strategies he needed to calm himself down; without this, he would simply have been following what I told him to do and wouldn’t have learnt to do it independently. Working with him taught me not to interject immediately, to leave room for him to process his thoughts and emotions and to make better choices for himself, all lessons which I have taken forward with me throughout my teaching career, and skills which are invaluable in my coaching practice. Without the year I spent with him, I may never have learnt the value of giving the children I’ve worked with time and space to work it out for themselves. He also taught me how important it is to a child to feel seen and heard; from the first day we spent together, he knew I saw him, he knew I cared enough to think about how I could help him and he knew I would listen to what he felt was best for himself. As a coach, I use the memory of this young man to help me remember the importance of listening and really hearing what my clients are saying; often, it is the greatest gift I can give them.
I wish I could thank N for all he taught me, but all I can do is hope he has carried forward some of what he learnt with me, and is thriving in whatever he is doing now.
Categories: : Life Lessons