There have recently been two suicides at a high school in my community. It’s been as awful as you think. I’ll spare you the details, because the details won’t do a damned thing to bring back those kids, ease their families’ hurt, or heal the gaping wound left by the loss of those kids for their teachers and classmates.

Instead, I’d like to address the teacher relationship myth.

Daggett’s “rigor, relevance, relationships” framework is an extremely popular discussion point in teacher and administrator staff development. As with so many ideas in our profession, the ideas themselves are pretty good while our follow-through in implementing them is lousy. It makes sense to focus on these components, especially on how our relationships with kids impact their ability to learn. We’ve all heard “you’ve gotta reach them before you can teach them.” Unfortunately, there are only so many hours in a staff development session, and by the time we’ve combed through the curriculum map and debated the best course of action in the event of an active shooter, we’ve run out of time to develop specific plans for improving our relationships with kids.

The greatest hurdle I have observed is the myth that forming positive teacher/administrator/student relationships requires a complex SIP, action plan, formal data collection, and hours of planning. Educators are asked to do a lot, and thinking about “relationships” as another requirement box to have checked off on an evaluation form is counterproductive to the actual FORMING of said relationships.

What really makes good relationships happen? The little stuff.

Here are 8 things my teaching partners and I are doing that don’t take hours of investment but that yield positive results with kids:

1. Strategic seating charts. We all know to put the chatty troublemakers away from one another. That’s Classroom Management 101. We are making an effort to seat our quiet, quirky, less-outgoing kids together. I think of it as stacking the deck in helping kids make friends with other likeminded individuals. When I see two kids wearing furry animal-ear hats with attached paws, I try to play matchmaker. This can decrease feelings of isolation.
2. I’ve been sending two “happygram” e-mails a day to families most days of the week and cc-ing the kids. I try to make sure kids who struggle, seem isolated, or get into trouble a lot are at the top of the list. I try to find something true, sincere, and positive to say about each kid based on their interests or their progress in class. I’m very specific so the kid knows I actually pay attention to what’s good about him/her. If I know a kid is having a REALLY rough time, I make an extra effort to move him/her to the top of my list for this.
3. During that time at the end of class while we’re all waiting for the bell to ring, I look for kids who aren’t socializing or even zoning out on their electronics. Chances are that’s a kid who’s having a bad time. I’m pretty stealthy in finding some sort of seemingly legitimate reason to need to engage with the kid so it doesn’t feel like I’m just trying to be nice because I’m worried about him. I’m a middle-aged mom with a son the age of my freshmen students, so striking up conversations where I solicit advice about gifts, things they think would be a good activity to do with my son, usw. work well. If the kid enjoys something I also enjoy (hello, my theatre friends!), I strike up some chat about that. I may have the kid help me carry my giant supply cart out a few minutes early so I can thank him/her profusely for helping me out; people like to feel needed and useful, not just talked-to out of pity.
4. I pull up my tiny whiteboard during classroom work times and have a kid help me catch up parts of the notes I missed or work through a problem that I want to use for a homework video later (I’m co-teaching Algebra). Noch einmal, that kid gets to feel helpful. Realistically, that kid may not know the first thing about Algebra, but I’m building him up. It also gives me an excuse to help that struggling kid without having him feel weird about it. I can also segue into other topics. Incidentally, I don’t delve deep into the kid’s psyche unless he really feels like going there. People enjoy pleasant interactions with acquaintances, and I want to build a correlation between feeling good and talking to me. If you head towards the “what’s wrong in your life” conversation too soon, you’ll spook them. If you’re worried that danger is imminent, have your counseling department evaluate–because nobody wants a psych eval in the middle of math class.
5. I smile and wave to kids when I see them in the hall. Don’t laugh because it seems like this should go without saying. I’ve worked in buildings where people didn’t do this, and it made for a really sad, negative energy. I work in a building now where EVERYONE smiles and greets, and the feeling of the place is palpably more positive.
6. I go to some of the less-well-attended school events where I know my students will be showcasing their work. I hit a couple of the freshman football games this year, and the crowds were thin. Ditto the non-main-stage theatre productions. I only stayed until the half both times, but kids noticed and were more eager to talk to me the next day. This takes a little more time, but you only need to do it a couple of times for it to be enough.
7. Tell kids you’re so glad they’re back if they miss a lot of school. Whatever the reason the kid isn’t there (illness, skipping…). It doesn’t matter. Your judgement will not make them come more often, and if they associate coming to school with unpleasant interactions with their teachers, they’ll come even less. Even if you feel more like strangling her, go ahead and smile at her and tell her how much you’ve missed her; play the long game. It’s probably at least a little bit true. Ja, there can be consequences, but that can come at a time other than when they’ve gotten the gumption together to first walk back through the door.
8. Use instant messenger to encourage and check in with kids. My students are on messenger like they’re getting paid for it. If the district isn’t going to block it, I figure I may as well use it for good instead of evil every once in a while. I jot off a little message, especially if I see a kid is on there late at night when I’m working. I normally lead with something along the lines of “How are you feeling about the math homework?” They’ll usually answer me, and sometimes they have questions I can answer. If it’s late, I usually encourage them to go to bed so they won’t be tired tomorrow. Ja, I mom them via instant messenger. Some kids need someone to “mom” them a little because nobody else is doing it. It literally takes me less than a minute, and it might make the difference for a kid on the edge.

At my own home, we literally have ONE RULE: “Don’t be an a**hole.” I’m not kidding; we clean it up for our younger kid and tell her “Don’t be a jerk.” This rule really does cover just about everything. I try to observe the same rule at school. Taking literally seconds a day to interact with my students like the human beings that they are falls under The Rule.