Daniel

     Daniel is a lively boy. He's got energy to spare. Sometimes he gets into trouble. I suppose that goes with the territory when you're super inquisitive and a bit mischieveous. The teacher usually has to say his name multiple times each day. Most of the time, she has to say his name because he's not doing what he should be doing or he's goofing off. He's not a bad kid, he just makes poor choices and that's the source of his trouble.

     This morning, I was meeting with a colleague of mine. Suddenly, Daniel appeared in the window of the doorway. His face was long and he didn't look happy. He slowly opened the classroom door and dragged his feet as he walked toward the teacher. The teacher instructed him to take a seat. He looked like he was about to cry.

The teacher began to speak:
   "Daniel. There are many times when I have to direct you and you do not complete your work. You are not in trouble, sweetheart. I called you in here because when I was looking over yesterday's work, I discovered that you had done it beautifully. I couldn't have done a better job myself!"
     Daniel's eyes grew big. A smile slowly spread across his face. He was proud, and it showed. He had earned the teacher's trust and she was recognizing him for a job well done. Watching the whole thing made me feel good inside.

     It is students like Daniel who keep me coming back to school each and every September. I have taught many students like Daniel over the past 17 years. Each child is salvageable. Each child is a piece of clay which can be moulded. Sometimes the piece of clay that we are given just needs a little extra love and a little more blood, sweat and tears before it can be transformed. As a teacher, I like to remember that. Daniel was a healthy reminder that my job and my words can either destroy a child, or build him up.