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Making the Most of Classroom Check-Ins and Check-Outs

Small, intentional routines that strengthen relationships, nurture resilience, and help us better understand the students we serve. 

Some of the most meaningful moments in our classrooms happen when we give ourselves permission to slow down. 

A student shares something they’re proud of. Another mentions a difficult morning. Someone who rarely speaks offers a thought that makes the entire class smile. 

Nothing elaborate. No perfectly planned lesson. Just a few minutes of connection. 

As educators, we know relationships matter. We see it in the students who seek us out for reassurance, the trust that develops over time, and the small moments of growth that remind us why we do this work. 

And as we continue growing in our trauma-informed, resilience-focused practices, we’re always discovering new ways to be more intentional with the relationships we’re already building. 

One beautifully simple opportunity? The classroom check-in and check-out circle. 

A Familiar Practice With a Deeper Purpose 

Many of us already use morning meetings, community circles, or informal conversations to connect with students. These routines create a natural space for building relationships, practicing social-emotional skills, and strengthening classroom community. 

But what if we approached these moments with an additional layer of curiosity? 

Not simply, What would be a good question to ask today? but, What might this conversation help me understand about what my students need today? 

Consider a Monday morning check-in. Students gather in a circle, revisit their shared agreements for listening and respect, and take turns responding to a simple invitation: 

Tell us one thing about your weekend. It could be something fun, something ordinary, or even something hard. 

There’s something meaningful about making room for all three. 

Not every student has an exciting story to tell. Not every weekend is restful or predictable. And not every child arrives on Monday feeling ready to jump into learning. 

By welcoming the ordinary alongside the exciting and difficult, we communicate that every student’s experience has a place in our classroom community. 

And when we use a talking piece, move intentionally around the circle, and practice listening without interruption, we’re doing more than facilitating conversation. We’re explicitly teaching patience, empathy, respect, and the value of every voice. 

This is where a familiar classroom routine becomes an intentional trauma-informed practice. 

Listening Through a Trauma-Informed Lens 

We know that stress and adversity can influence a student’s ability to concentrate, regulate emotions, navigate relationships, and engage in learning. We also know that behavior doesn’t always tell us the whole story. 

A student who seems distracted may be worried about something outside of school. A child who is unusually quiet may need time to settle. Another who appears restless may be experiencing excitement, anxiety, or simply the challenge of transitioning into a new routine.

Rather than making assumptions, a check-in circle gives us an opportunity to remain curious. And curiosity is one of our most valuable tools. 

We can deepen this practice by occasionally inviting students to notice how they’re feeling in their bodies. 

A brief body scan or body mapping activity might encourage students to recognize where they experience tension, excitement, calm, or nervousness. 

Do your shoulders feel relaxed or tight? Does your stomach feel settled or fluttery? What might your body be telling you today? 

These gentle invitations build body awareness, an important part of developing emotional regulation skills. They also remind us that students may be experiencing feelings they don’t yet have the words to describe. 

For students who have experienced trauma, predictable opportunities for connection can be especially meaningful. Familiar routines, clear expectations, and consistent adult responses can contribute to a greater sense of safety and belonging. 

Of course, a circle isn’t about asking students to disclose personal struggles. Participation should always feel emotionally safe, with opportunities to pass, listen, or express themselves in different ways. 

The goal isn’t to get every student talking. It’s to create a community where every student knows their voice matters, whether they choose to share or simply listen. 

Don’t Forget the Check-Out 

While morning meetings often receive our attention, there’s something equally valuable about how we end our time together. Consider the transition into a Friday afternoon. 

For some students, the weekend brings excitement, family time, and opportunities to recharge. For others, leaving the structure and predictability of school may bring uncertainty. 

A Friday check-out offers a moment to acknowledge both possibilities while helping students reflect on their growth. 

Invite students to share something they accomplished during the week and something they’re looking forward to. You might also offer space to identify anything they’re feeling uncertain about or would appreciate support with before leaving. 

These questions invite students to recognize their strengths, celebrate progress, and identify needs. 

They also offer opportunities to nurture Mastery, one of the four universal growth needs within Starr Commonwealth’s Circle of Courage. When students pause to notice what they’ve accomplished, even in small ways, they begin to recognize themselves as capable learners and problem-solvers. 

And just as importantly, we have another opportunity to notice students who may benefit from a quiet conversation before heading home. 

A thoughtful check-out can help us end the week with the same intentionality we bring to beginning it. 

Making the Most of What Students Share 

Perhaps the most important part of a check-in or check-out circle happens after the talking piece has made its way around the room. 

It’s what we do with what we’ve learned. 

When a student mentions a difficult weekend, we might offer a quiet moment of connection before beginning instruction. When someone shares excitement about an accomplishment, we can celebrate their growing confidence. When a student expresses worry about the weekend ahead, we can follow up privately and explore what support may be helpful. 

These are opportunities to be proactive rather than reactive. 

A supportive time-in conversation, a thoughtful adjustment to our expectations, or a connection to additional resources may help a student navigate a challenge before it becomes overwhelming. 

And these moments don’t always need to be serious. 

A playful get-to-know-you game, a meaningful quote, a shared celebration, or a jar filled with creative sentence starters can bring variety and joy to the circle while continuing to strengthen relationships. 

As we refine our practice, a few simple reminders can help: 

Keep it predictable. Familiar routines and shared agreements help students know what to expect. 

Make participation flexible. Offer opportunities to speak, pass, draw, gesture, or simply listen. 

Notice strengths alongside needs. Celebrate accomplishments, interests, hopes, and contributions. 

Follow up with intention. When students share something meaningful or concerning, consider how you can respond with care beyond the circle. 

The goal isn’t to perfect another classroom strategy. It’s to use the opportunities we already have with greater awareness and purpose. 

The Difference a Few Minutes Can Make 

One of the most encouraging parts of becoming more trauma-informed and resilience-focused is recognizing that meaningful change doesn’t always require something entirely new. 

Sometimes, it means seeing a familiar practice through a different lens. 

A Monday morning circle becomes an opportunity to notice what students are carrying into the week. A Friday reflection becomes a chance to celebrate strengths and anticipate support needs. A talking piece becomes a tool for teaching empathy and respect. 

And a simple question becomes an invitation to connect. 

Over time, these repeated experiences help shape the relationships and sense of community that make learning possible. 

As educators, we won’t always know everything our students are navigating. We won’t always have the perfect question or the immediate answer. But we can keep showing up with curiosity, consistency, and care. Because sometimes, becoming more trauma-informed isn’t about doing more. It’s about discovering the deeper purpose in what we’re already doing. 

Continue Growing Your Trauma-Informed Practice 

Looking for more practical ways to strengthen relationships, recognize student needs, and foster resilience? 

Explore Starr Commonwealth’s Certified Trauma & Resilience Coach (CTRC) training to deepen your understanding of trauma and resilience and discover strategies you can bring into your work with children and young people. 

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Creating a Schoolwide Culture of Belonging

Reflections from a retired principal on how we turned ordinary school mornings into opportunities for connection, belonging, and resilience. 

I spent more than 30 years in education. I was a teacher, a coach, an assistant principal, and eventually a principal for 16 years. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can have the best programs, the best intentions, and some really great people working in your building, but if kids don’t feel connected to their school, you’re going to have a hard time reaching them. 

I wish I could tell you I figured that out early in my career. I didn’t. 

In fact, it wasn’t until the last few years before I retired that I really began to understand just how much the everyday experiences of our students mattered. Not just what happened during instruction. Not just what happened when a student got into trouble. I’m talking about the little things. The things we sometimes walk right past because we’re so busy trying to get through the school day. 

Like what happens in the first 15 minutes after a kid walks through the door. 

We Had to Start Looking at School Differently 

Coming out of COVID, our school was struggling. We had kids who weren’t coming to school consistently. We had kids who were coming to school but struggling to stay in classrooms. We had staff who were exhausted, frustrated, and trying everything they knew to make things better. 

And I was right there with them. We were working hard. But working harder at the same things wasn’t necessarily getting us anywhere. 

As I began learning more about trauma-informed, resilience-focused education, I started thinking differently about what our students needed from us. I also had an opportunity to visit another school that was putting these ideas into practice. 

I remember arriving before the students and just watching. Adults were outside meeting buses and greeting families. Kids came into the building, grabbed breakfast, and headed into classrooms that were calm and ready for them. 

There wasn’t anything particularly complicated about it. But there was something different about the way the whole morning felt. It was intentional. And I remember thinking, Why aren’t we doing this? 

We already had good people. We already had adults who cared about kids. We already had pieces of this happening throughout our building. 

What we didn’t have was a shared approach that brought it all together. So, we decided to build one. 

If We’re Going to Do It, We’re All Going to Do It 

One thing my assistant principal and I agreed on was that this couldn’t become another thing we asked teachers to do while everybody else went about their morning. If we believed relationships mattered, then building those relationships had to be everybody’s responsibility. 

And I mean everybody. Teachers. Administrators. Counselors. Social workers. Support staff. The people working in our hallways and helping with breakfast. Me included. 

We assigned every adult in the building a place to be when students arrived. Some were outside meeting buses. Some were at the front entrance. Others were in the hallways, stairwells, or near classrooms. 

The idea was that by the time a student reached their classroom, they had already been greeted by at least a couple of adults. Think about that for a second. 

Before we asked a student to open a book, complete an assignment, or follow a direction, we had multiple opportunities to let them know we were glad they were there. 

For some kids, that might not seem like a big deal. For others, it might be one of the most important parts of their day. 

And here’s the thing: it didn’t cost us anything. 

It took planning. It took consistency. It took everybody understanding why we were doing it. But it didn’t require another expensive program. It required us to be intentional with the people and time we already had. 

Give Kids a Chance to Arrive Before Asking Them to Perform 

Our students began entering the building at 8:15. They could grab breakfast, stop at their lockers, and head into their classrooms. Depending on when they arrived, they had anywhere from five to fifteen minutes before we began our community-building time at 8:30. 

That was important to me. 

Think about your own morning: Maybe you overslept. Maybe traffic was terrible. Maybe something happened at home, or you had an argument with somebody before leaving. 

Now imagine walking into work and immediately being expected to perform at your best. 

That’s what we sometimes ask kids to do. We don’t always know what happened before they got to us.  

So why not give them a few minutes to settle in? Why not make sure the first thing they experience is a familiar face, a welcoming environment, and a little breathing room? 

It sounds simple because it is. But simple doesn’t mean insignificant. 

Every Morning, We Practiced the Pause 

At 8:30, I would get on Google Meet with every classroom in the building. We had two adults assigned to each classroom, and we set things up so the students could see me and I could see them. 

I loved that part of my morning. I’d greet the kids, acknowledge someone coming in a little late, and remind everybody that whatever kind of morning they’d had, they had an opportunity to begin again. 

Then we’d practice what we called, The Pause. 

We’d stop for a moment. Slow ourselves down. Take a breath. And we’d do it together. 

Not because somebody was in trouble. Not because a student was having a difficult time. Because we wanted kids to practice that skill every single day.

I used to remind them that we practiced the pause when things were going well so we’d know how to use it when things weren’t going so well.

That’s something I really came to believe in.

We can’t expect kids to suddenly know how to regulate themselves in the middle of a difficult moment if we’ve never given them opportunities to practice. And I didn’t want this to be something we only talked about. I wanted us to actually do it. 

Every day. The Pause was just the beginning. 

We Made Community Building Part of Our Schedule 

We also built a weekly routine around community building and the four universal needs of the Circle of Courage: Belonging, Mastery, Independence, and Generosity. 

On Mondays, we introduced a shared lesson from Starr Commonwealth’s Courageous Classroom curriculum. 

One of the things I liked about this approach was that the entire building was focused on the same concept, just taught in ways that made sense for different grade levels. 

That meant if we were working on a particular relationship skill, it wasn’t something students heard about once and forgot. 

Teachers could reinforce it. Office staff could reinforce it. I could reinforce it. We were all speaking the same language. 

On Tuesdays, our wellness team led a mindful moment and then students participated in community circles. Sometimes the mindful moment was just a short video.  

I remember one of my favorites was a video of a goat lying in the grass, eating. That’s it. A goat. And for a couple of minutes, we were all just watching this goat do absolutely nothing. 

I loved it.  

Because sometimes that’s exactly what we need. A couple of minutes to stop doing and just be. 

Then students would gather in circles and respond to prompts, ask questions, listen, and talk with one another. It might sound like a small thing, but think about all the skills kids are practicing in those conversations.  

They’re learning how to listen. How to take turns. How to express themselves. How to be curious about somebody else’s experience. They’re building relationships. 

On Wednesdays, we made time for mindful moments and for students to manage the recognition they’d earned through our positive behavior system. 

On Thursdays, our instructional coaches led team-building activities. 

That was another piece I really liked because we had new teachers and new instructional coaches. These activities helped them build relationships with students and one another while also introducing strategies teachers could use in their own classrooms. 

It all worked together. And that was the point. 

It Wasn’t About Adding More. It Was About Connecting What We Were Already Doing. 

If you’ve been in education for any length of time, you know how this goes. Every year, there’s something new. A new initiative. A new curriculum. A new priority. And sometimes, before we’ve really had the chance to make one thing work, we’re moving on to the next. 

My assistant principal and I were determined not to let that happen. 

We wanted everything we did to connect back to what we were learning about trauma, resilience, and the universal needs of our students. That included our school improvement goals, our behavior recognition system, our morning routines, and the way we responded when students were struggling. 

We weren’t trying to create a perfect school. We were trying to create a school where the things we said we believed were actually reflected in what students experienced. 

That’s a big difference. 

I often describe the shift from being trauma-informed to becoming trauma-responsive as the difference between knowing and doing. 

You can know that relationships matter. You can know that students need belonging. You can know that practicing regulation skills helps students manage difficult moments. 

But what are we actually doing with that knowledge? Where does it show up in the school day? 

For us, it started showing up at 8:15 every morning. 

You Don’t Have to Do It Exactly Like We Did 

Now, I’m not suggesting every school needs to get its principal on Google Meet every morning or follow the exact schedule we created. We were a small fifth-through-eighth-grade building, and we figured out what worked for us. Your school might look completely different. 

But I would encourage you to take a good look at the first fifteen minutes of your day. Walk through the building before students arrive. Watch what happens when they get there. 

Who greets them? 

What do they see when they enter their classrooms? 

Do they have an opportunity to connect with somebody? 

Do they have a moment to settle in? 

And maybe most importantly, does every adult understand the role they play in helping students feel like they belong? 

You might discover that you’re already doing a lot of really good things. Great. Build on them. Bring your people together. Talk about what’s working. Find opportunities to be more intentional and consistent. 

Because one thing I learned throughout this journey is that meaningful change doesn’t always come from doing something bigger. Sometimes, it comes from doing the small things together, every single day. 

I retired proud of what our school community had accomplished. Not because we had figured everything out, but because we had started to see what was possible when an entire staff committed to a shared purpose. 

And if there’s one thing I hope other educators take from our experience, it’s this: 

Don’t underestimate what can happen when every student walks into a building where the adults are genuinely glad they’re there. 

Those first fifteen minutes matter. 

And so do all the little moments that follow. 

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Rethinking Bullying Through the Circle of Courage

How relationships, restorative practices, and everyday opportunities for connection can help build schools where every student belongs. 

Every October, schools across the country come together for National Bullying Prevention Month. Hallways fill with messages of kindness, students make pledges to treat one another with respect, and educators remind ucircle of cs of something we all believe: every child deserves to feel safe, seen, and valued. 

But what happens when October ends? 

The posters come down, the assemblies are over, and students return to the same classrooms, cafeterias, and playgrounds where relationships are being shaped every day. 

Perhaps the most meaningful question we can ask this month isn’t simply How do we stop bullying? but rather, How do we create school communities where every child has a meaningful place to belong? 

Because bullying prevention is about more than addressing harmful behavior. It’s about nurturing relationships, skills, and experiences that help young people thrive. 

Understanding the Difference Between Conflict and Bullying 

Not every disagreement, hurt feeling, or unkind interaction is bullying. Understanding the difference matters because our response should reflect what students are experiencing. 

Conflict is a natural part of relationships. Students may disagree, become frustrated, or struggle to see another person’s perspective. When both students have relatively equal power, these moments can become opportunities to teach communication, emotional regulation, empathy, and collaborative problem-solving. 

Bullying, however, involves unwanted aggressive behavior, a real or perceived imbalance of power, and behavior that is repeated or has the potential to be repeated. Unlike ordinary conflict, bullying involves one student using power to harm, intimidate, or exclude another. 

This distinction is especially important when considering restorative practices. While peer conflict may benefit from facilitated dialogue and shared problem-solving, bullying requires adults to first establish safety, address the power imbalance, and hold the student causing harm accountable.

Both situations call for connection, guidance, and opportunities to develop new skills. But they do not call for identical interventions. 

The goal isn’t to label every difficult interaction as bullying. It’s to understand what is happening so we can respond with the right balance of protection, accountability, and support. 

Looking Beyond the Behavior 

Imagine a student making an unkind comment in the cafeteria. A few classmates laugh. Another student looks down, embarrassed. An educator intervenes, addresses the behavior, and everyone moves on. 

But beneath that brief interaction, something more complicated may be unfolding. 

Was the student seeking approval from peers? Trying to establish control? Looking for a way to feel powerful or important? 

These questions don’t excuse the behavior. They invite us to better understand it so we can teach something different. 

At Starr Commonwealth, the Circle of Courage offers a helpful lens for understanding the universal growth needs that shape young people’s development: Belonging, Mastery, Independence, and Generosity. 

Every child needs to feel connected, capable, empowered, and valuable to others. Yet sometimes, the ways young people attempt to meet these needs become distorted. 

A student seeking Belonging may exclude someone else to gain acceptance from a group. A desire for Mastery may become a need to appear superior. Independence may be expressed through controlling others, while the desire for Generosity may become tangled with gaining attention at another person’s expense. 

The Circle of Courage helps us recognize something hopeful: the same needs that may be expressed through harmful behavior can also guide us toward healthier relationships and meaningful change. 

We can hold students accountable for the harm they cause while continuing to believe in their capacity to grow. 

Relationships Are the Foundation. Skills Are the Bridge. 

We often tell students to be kind, include others, and make good choices. But these are skills that must be intentionally taught, modeled, practiced, and reinforced. 

A child who struggles to manage frustration may need explicit instruction in emotional regulation. A student who relies on social exclusion may need support developing empathy and healthy friendship skills. A young person who uses intimidation to solve problems may need opportunities to practice communication, conflict resolution, and responsible decision-making. 

This is where social-emotional learning (SEL) becomes an essential part of bullying prevention. 

When educators intentionally teach students to recognize emotions, consider another person’s perspective, navigate disagreements, solve problems, and seek help, they are building skills that strengthen relationships and help prevent harm. 

And these lessons are most powerful when they extend beyond a designated SEL block. 

They happen when a teacher models how to disagree respectfully. When students practice solving a problem together instead of competing for control. When an adult helps a child find the words to express frustration, or when classmates learn how to safely support someone experiencing exclusion. 

Small moments become meaningful opportunities to practice the skills of belonging. 

Relationships create the safety to learn. Explicit instruction gives students the skills to succeed within those relationships. 

Responding to Harm With Safety, Accountability, and Hope 

Even in the most connected school communities, bullying can happen. And when it does, our response matters. 

A restorative approach invites us to move beyond asking only, “What rule was broken, and what consequence is deserved?” toward also asking, “Who was harmed, what do they need, and what must happen to make things right and prevent further harm?” 

This doesn’t mean overlooking behavior or replacing accountability with a conversation. It means recognizing that meaningful accountability includes learning, responsibility, and changed behavior. 

For educators and school professionals, a few intentional practices can make a difference: 

Protect first, connect second. Interrupt the behavior, establish safety, and privately support the student who was harmed. Listen without judgment, communicate that the bullying is not their responsibility, and create a plan to prevent further incidents. 

Invite reflection, not shame. Meet separately with the student who caused harm. Ask what happened, who was affected, and what they could do differently. Explore what they were hoping to accomplish and help them identify healthier ways to meet that need. 

Teach the missing skills. Model and practice empathy, emotional regulation, communication, and problem-solving. Help students rehearse what they might say or do differently the next time they experience a similar situation. 

Make accountability meaningful. Develop a plan that addresses the harm, establishes clear expectations, and includes follow-through. Restorative conversations between students should never be forced, particularly when a power imbalance exists. Safety and the wishes of the student harmed must guide the process. 

A restorative response is not complete when an apology is offered or a consequence is served. It continues through the relationships we repair, the skills we teach, and the safety we work to restore. 

Creating a School Where Every Student Has a Place 

Perhaps the greatest opportunity for bullying prevention is found in what we do before bullying ever occurs. 

Rather than relying solely on individual interventions, schools can intentionally build environments where the four universal growth needs are nurtured every day. 

Belonging grows when students are greeted by name, welcomed into relationships, and know there is a trusted adult who will notice when something isn’t right. 

Mastery grows when students experience success, discover their strengths, and learn that their worth is not measured by comparison to others. 

Independence grows when young people have a voice, participate in classroom problem-solving, and practice using their influence responsibly. 

Generosity grows when students experience the joy of helping others, welcoming someone new, and contributing something meaningful to their school community. 

Imagine the collective impact of these experiences woven throughout a school day. 

Morning meetings that nurture connection. Classroom agreements developed together. Explicit SEL instruction that gives students language for emotions and strategies for solving problems. Peer mentoring that celebrates strengths. Adults who model curiosity, compassion, and respectful accountability. 

These practices may seem simple, but their consistency matters. 

And they require a shared commitment. Teachers, administrators, counselors, support staff, families, and students all contribute to the culture of a school. When adults feel connected and supported themselves, they are better positioned to create those same experiences for young people. 

Bullying prevention becomes more than a program or an annual initiative. It becomes part of how a school community lives, learns, and cares for one another. 

The Work That Lasts Beyond October 

There is something hopeful about recognizing that bullying prevention doesn’t depend on one perfect lesson, one powerful assembly, or one educator having all the answers. 

It grows through relationships. Through the patient work of teaching skills. Through everyday opportunities for students to feel capable, connected, and valued. 

And through the belief that young people can learn healthier ways to meet their needs, take responsibility for their actions, and contribute positively to the communities around them. 

This October, let’s continue teaching kindness. Let’s continue addressing bullying with clarity and care. But let’s also look beyond the behavior and invest in the relationships and developmental needs that shape it. 

Because when we nurture Belonging, Mastery, Independence, and Generosity, we aren’t simply teaching students how to avoid hurting one another. 

We’re helping them discover how to care for one another. 

And that is a lesson worth carrying into every month of the school year. 

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Our Students Need to Feel Seen. So Do We.

A Back-to-School Reflection and 5 Simple Ways for School Leaders to Help Staff Feel Seen

There’s something about the beginning of a school year. The building starts to come alive again. People are catching up in the hallways, classrooms are being put back together, and there’s that familiar mix of excitement, hope, nerves, and here we go again. And while we spend so much time thinking about how students will feel when they walk through the doors, I think it’s worth asking another question:

How do we want our staff to feel when they walk through those same doors?

School leaders, this is for you—but it isn’t another list of things you need to add to your plate. Your plate is already full. You’re carrying staffing concerns, schedules, student needs, parent questions, district expectations, and a hundred little things most people will never know you handled.

You deserve to feel seen, too.

That’s part of what we mean when we talk about trauma-informed, resilience-focused schools. We can’t only think about belonging, regulation, relationships, and emotional safety when we’re talking about students. The adults in the building need those things, too—including the people leading it.

And sometimes supporting people is much simpler than we make it. It starts with seeing them.

Noticing the teacher standing at the door greeting every student even though you know their morning started rough. Catching the para who quietly helped a student regulate before things escalated. Recognizing the secretary who has already solved twelve problems before 8:15. Checking in with the staff member who seems a little quieter than usual. And then actually saying something.

That’s the same thinking behind so much of what we already know works through PBIS, restorative practices, and SEL. Relationships matter. Specific positive feedback matters. Belonging matters. People are more likely to thrive in places where they know they are valued members of the community.

We do this for kids. We can do it for each other, too.

5 Simple Ways to SEE Your Staff This Back-to-School Season

  1. Catch adults doing good, too. We talk about recognizing the behaviors we want to see in students. Try it with adults. Skip the generic “great job” and name what you noticed: “I saw how you welcomed that student back after a tough day yesterday. You gave them a fresh start.” That kind of feedback reminds people that the things they do every day matter.
  2. Start with a circle, not a slideshow. Before jumping straight into schedules, expectations, and back-to-school logistics, give people a chance to reconnect. Try a quick opening circle: What are you looking forward to this year? What do you need from this team when things get hard? What is something bringing you joy right now? Ten minutes of connection can set a very different tone for everything that follows.
  3. Ask people how they want to be celebrated. Not everyone wants their name announced at a staff meeting. Some people love public recognition; others would treasure a handwritten note much more. Ask. Then keep track of the answers. Seeing people also means knowing how they want to be seen.
  4. Do a “just because” walkthrough. Walk into classrooms without evaluating anything. Don’t bring a clipboard. Don’t look for what needs correcting. Just look for something good. Leave a sticky note, send a quick text, or mention it later. Imagine knowing your administrator might walk into your classroom simply because they enjoy seeing you and your students doing good work.
  5. Make joy part of the plan. Bring the coffee. Play the music. Start the meeting with something that made everyone laugh. Celebrate surviving week one. Protect a planning period when you can. Send someone home when the work can truly wait until tomorrow. Joy and rest aren’t extras in resilience-focused environments. They help us keep going.

None of this requires a committee, a new initiative, or another thing to implement with fidelity. It requires us to notice each other.

And administrators, please find someone who notices you, too. Find the colleague you can call after that meeting. Let your leadership team support you. Take the walk outside. Eat lunch before 3:00. Celebrate the problem you solved instead of immediately moving to the next one. You don’t have to model having everything together. You can model connection, boundaries, asking for help, laughter, reflection, and taking care of yourself.

Our students are watching how adults experience school, too. If we want schools where children experience belonging, let’s build places where adults belong. If we want students to know their strengths, let’s remind our educators of theirs. If we want kids to ask for help, let’s create adult cultures where asking for help is normal. And if we want young people to know they matter, let’s make sure the people showing up for them every single day know they matter, too.

As you open the doors to another school year, maybe that’s a good place to begin: See your people. Know your people. Celebrate your people. And make sure someone is doing the same for you.

Here’s to a school year where both students and the adults who care for them have the chance to feel safe, connected, supported, and seen.

 
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The One They Remember

There is something about the beginning of a school year that makes everything feel possible. 

The floors are freshly cleaned. The classroom smells like new crayons and dry-erase markers. Books are waiting to be opened, names are waiting to be learned, and little pieces of ourselves are tucked into bulletin boards, lesson plans, baskets, and carefully prepared corners of the room. 

We prepare the curriculum. 

We prepare the classroom. 

We prepare ourselves. 

But there is one thing we can never fully prepare for: the child who walks through our door carrying a story we don’t know yet. 

Maybe they had a hard summer. Maybe home doesn’t feel safe right now. Maybe they are grieving, anxious, lonely, or carrying more than a child should have to carry. 

Or maybe nothing particularly difficult happened at all. 

Maybe they simply don’t believe they’re good at school. Maybe they don’t know how to make friends. Maybe they have quietly decided that everyone else belongs here except them. 

And then, one morning, they walk into your classroom. 

They don’t know it yet, but you might become one of the most important people in their story. 

Not because you’ll have all the answers or be able to make the hard things disappear. But because resilience is so deeply rooted in relationships. Sometimes, one caring, consistent adult who helps a child feel safe, known, valued, and capable can change the trajectory of a life. 

Sometimes, that adult is us. 

I think about that a lot as a new school year approaches. 

We spend so much time asking ourselves, What am I going to teach them this year? 

But perhaps there is another question worth carrying into our classrooms: 

How do I want my students to feel when they are with me? 

I want them to feel like someone is glad they walked through the door. 

I want the child who struggles to know that I can see something in them beyond the struggle. I want the child who acts out to encounter curiosity before judgment. I want the quiet child to discover that quiet doesn’t mean invisible. And I want the child who thinks they aren’t “good at school” to have someone looking hard enough to find the thing they are good at. 

Because there is almost always something. 

A kindness. A curiosity. A wild imagination. A sense of humor. A determination that hasn’t quite learned how to look like determination yet. A beautiful way of noticing the world. A tiny spark that hasn’t gone out, even when everything else feels heavy. 

Those are the glimmers. 

And our classrooms need people seeking them out. 

Not ignoring the hard things. Not lowering our expectations. But becoming the kind of educators who can hold both truths at once: 

This child needs support. 

And, 

There is something good here worth finding. 

That changes the way we see them. 

And when a child realizes that you see them—not just their grades, not just their behavior, not just the parts that need correcting, but the whole person underneath it all—something begins to happen. 

They begin to believe you. 

And eventually, they may begin to believe themselves. 

That is where belonging lives. 

Not in the perfectly decorated classroom, although goodness knows we love those things too. Belonging lives in ordinary moments. 

In remembering what they told you yesterday. 

In learning how to say their name correctly and saying it often. 

In noticing when their smile doesn’t reach their eyes. 

In celebrating the tiny victory nobody else noticed. 

In saying, “I knew you could do it,” and meaning it. 

In looking across a noisy classroom and thinking, There you are. I see you. 

These moments may feel small to us. 

But to a child, they can become the memories that stay. 

Years from now, they may not remember the worksheet from the second Tuesday of September. They may not remember the lesson you spent hours perfecting. 

But they might remember the educator who noticed they were having a hard day. 

The one who never made them feel like a problem. 

The one who kept finding reasons to believe in them. 

The one who made room for them. 

The one who made school feel like somewhere they belonged. 

And that is the gift of this work. 

So, to every educator, administrator, counselor, paraprofessional, bus driver, cafeteria worker, custodian, coach, secretary, and school staff member preparing to welcome children back: 

Thank you. 

Thank you for showing up when you’re tired. Thank you for loving children you didn’t bring into this world. Thank you for celebrating their victories, holding space for their hard days, answering the same question for the fiftieth time, and finding patience when you aren’t sure you have any left. 

Thank you for all the invisible work no one sees. 

Your work matters more than you know. 

As we open our doors again this year, may we remember that our classrooms will hold far more than lessons. They will hold children becoming. 

And in the middle of all that becoming, they will need us. 

Not perfect us. 

Just present us. 

So, here’s to another beginning. 

To the coffee and chaos, the lesson plans and laughter, the long days and tiny moments that make it all worth it. 

Here’s to finding the child underneath the behavior, noticing the strength underneath the struggle, and building belonging one ordinary moment at a time. 

And here’s to the beautiful possibility that somewhere in your classroom this year, there will be a child who needs you more than you will ever know. 

Be the one who sees them. 
Be the one who stays curious. 
Be the one who finds the glimmer.
 Be the one who helps them believe in themselves. 

Because sometimes, one caring adult changes everything. 

And what an extraordinary privilege it is to be that adult. 

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The Most Powerful Intervention in Education Isn’t a Program

Every educator can remember a student who stayed with them long after the school year ended. 

Maybe it was the child who rarely spoke but somehow trusted you enough to share their story. Maybe it was the student who spent more time in the office than the classroom, yet lit up when someone finally took the time to understand them. Maybe it was the teenager who seemed disengaged on the surface but was quietly carrying more than any young person should have to bear. 

And if you ask adults to reflect on the educators who changed their lives, their stories are remarkably similar. Rarely do they begin by talking about a lesson plan, a curriculum, or an intervention strategy. Instead, they talk about a person. 

A teacher who believed in them when they didn’t believe in themselves. A coach who challenged them to become more than they thought possible. A counselor who listened without judgment. A principal who knew their name. 

They remember feeling seen. 

They remember feeling valued. 

They remember feeling like they mattered. 

Long after the details of their education have faded, those relationships remain. 

The Foundation Beneath Every Framework 

In education, we often find ourselves searching for the next solution. We invest in new initiatives, implement evidence-based practices, and develop systems designed to improve outcomes for students. These efforts are important and necessary. 

Yet amidst conversations about academics, behavior, attendance, mental health, and intervention systems, it can be easy to overlook the thread that connects them all. 

Relationships. 

Whether we’re talking about Trauma-Informed Care, MTSS, PBIS, SEL, restorative practices, or student engagement, each framework ultimately depends on the quality of the relationships within a school community. 

Research on resilience has consistently pointed to one of the strongest protective factors in a child’s life: the presence of at least one caring, stable adult. 

Not a perfect adult. 

Not an expert with all the answers. 

Simply someone who communicates, through their actions and presence, “You matter here.” 

For some students, that relationship exists at home. For others, school may be the place where they encounter it most consistently. That reality carries tremendous responsibility, but it also carries incredible hope. 

Because while educators cannot control every challenge a student faces, they can create environments where every student feels known, valued, and connected. 

Belonging Before Achievement 

We often speak about academic achievement as the ultimate goal of education. But before students can fully engage in learning, they need something deeper. 

They need belonging. 

A student who feels disconnected from their school community is less likely to attend regularly, participate in class, seek help when needed, or persevere through challenges. On the other hand, students who feel connected to trusted adults are more likely to take risks, build resilience, and remain engaged even when learning becomes difficult. 

This isn’t because relationships replace rigorous instruction. 

It’s because relationships make rigorous instruction possible. 

Human beings are wired for connection. We learn best when we feel safe. We grow when we feel supported. We thrive when we believe we belong. 

When educators intentionally create classrooms where students feel welcomed, respected, and valued, they aren’t stepping away from academic priorities. They are strengthening the very conditions that allow learning to occur. 

Belonging is not a soft skill. 

It is a foundational need. 

The Extraordinary Power of Ordinary Moments 

Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of this work is that life-changing relationships are rarely built through dramatic gestures. More often, they emerge through small moments repeated consistently over time. 

A teacher greeting students at the door each morning. 

A counselor checking in after noticing a difficult week. 

A coach refusing to give up on a struggling athlete. 

A secretary who remembers a student’s name. 

A bus driver who asks how yesterday’s game went. 

These moments may seem insignificant in isolation. Yet together, they communicate a powerful message: “I see you.” 

For a student who feels invisible, that message can change everything. 

Many educators underestimate the impact they have because the most meaningful outcomes are often impossible to measure. There is no data dashboard for confidence restored. No benchmark assessment for hope renewed. No progress monitoring chart for a student who finally begins to believe they belong. And yet these transformations happen every day in schools. 

Quietly. 

Consistently. 

One relationship at a time. 

The Legacy We Leave 

As another school year comes to a close, educators everywhere are reflecting on the difference they’ve made. 

Some evidence will be visible in growth reports, attendance data, graduation rates, and academic outcomes. Those measures matter, and they tell an important part of the story. 

But they do not tell the whole story. 

The whole story includes the student who found their voice because someone encouraged them to speak. The child who kept showing up because someone was waiting for them. The young person who chose hope over hopelessness because an adult believed their future could be brighter than their present. 

Those moments may never appear in a report. 

They may never be fully known. 

But they are often the moments that matter most. 

In a profession constantly searching for new programs, new strategies, and new solutions, perhaps this is the reminder we need most: the most powerful intervention available in any school has never been a curriculum, a framework, or an initiative. 

It has always been a person. 

A caring adult who chooses, day after day, to show up, build relationships, and remind students that they are worthy of being seen. 

And sometimes, that is the very thing that changes the course of a life.

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Nurturing Minds: A Trauma-Informed Approach to Fostering Student-Educator Relationships

In the realm of education, the adage “students don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care” holds a profound truth. As educators, our primary responsibility extends beyond the delivery of academic content; it encompasses the holistic well-being of our students. A trauma-informed approach recognizes the impact of adverse experiences on a student’s behavior and emphasizes the crucial role of positive relationships in fostering a conducive learning environment. With so many priorities fighting for our attention, it can feel overwhelming to “find the time” to foster a sense of belonging as a proactive approach to creating safe and supportive learning environments. Wondering where to start? Here a few ideas to try!

Cultivate a Safe and Inclusive Environment
Building a trauma-informed classroom starts with establishing an atmosphere where students feel safe and accepted. Recognize and validate diverse perspectives, backgrounds, and experiences. Foster a sense of belonging by incorporating inclusive practices that celebrate individuality. A safe environment is the bedrock upon which trust and connection can flourish.

Quick strategies: teambuilding brain breaks like the name game, engaging in an interest inventory, and creating a shared classroom calendar of upcoming events that are important to your students, writing a co-created classroom charter everyone agrees to of how to treat others.

Practice Active Listening
Engaging in active listening is a powerful tool for understanding and connecting with your students. Take the time to truly hear their thoughts, concerns, and experiences. By demonstrating empathy and understanding, educators send a powerful message that students’ voices are valued. This validates their emotions and builds a foundation of trust.

Quick strategies: open ended journal prompts, inviting students to sign-up for lunch with their teacher, attend extra curricular activities your students are involved in, join a student(s) at their table for lunch, and leverage student conferencing as a chance to check in with how they are doing emotionally prior to talking about academics.

Be Consistent and Predictable
Consistency provides a sense of stability that is especially crucial for students who may have experienced trauma. Establish clear expectations, routines, and consequences. Predictability helps alleviate anxiety, allowing students to focus on learning rather than navigating uncertainty. Consistency fosters a sense of safety, which is paramount for building trusting relationships and promoting positive behavioral outcomes.

Quick strategies: implement proactive classroom circles or meetings regularly, utilize restorative circles in response to solving issues that arise, elicit student feedback when creating classroom norms together, establish classroom routines and rituals that you teach, model, practice and reinforce, and focus on what students are doing well before you have to correct what needs improvement.

Model Healthy Coping Mechanisms
Educators serve as role models for their students. Demonstrating healthy coping mechanisms for stress and adversity can positively influence students’ own strategies for managing challenges. Share your own experiences and coping mechanisms, creating an environment that encourages open dialogue about emotions and self-care. This vulnerable two-way communication helps establish trust and authentic connection between all involved.

Quick strategies: model your own body map, name when you are feeling frustrated or overwhelmed and demonstrate how taking a deep breath helps you, share personal experiences of age-appropriate trials and tribulations that helped you recognize your inner strength, and find moments of joy to share with your students to highlight positive emotions as well.

Collaborate with Support Systems
Building relationships extends beyond the classroom walls. Collaborate with parents, guardians, and other support systems in a student’s life. Share insights about a student’s strengths, challenges, and progress. This collaborative effort reinforces a unified front, ensuring that the student receives consistent support both at home and in the educational setting.

Quick strategies: positive outreach to family members via phone/email/text/note highlighting what their child did well with today, inviting families into the classroom to engage in learning alongside the class, ensure diversity in classroom celebrations that represent the cultures of your students, invite students to bring artifacts from home to display or present to the class, send pictures of their child excelling at something home, and provide regular newsletters to families informing them of important information regarding the classroom learning.

Prioritizing relationships with students as a proactive approach to foster characteristics of resilience and support positive behavior is not just an educational strategy; it is a commitment to the well-being of the next generation. By embracing trauma-informed practices, educators contribute to the creation of a nurturing environment where students feel valued, understood, and empowered to thrive academically and emotionally. In these connections lie the seeds of positive behavior and a brighter future for all.

 

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How Can Teachers Prevent Bullying?

October is National Bullying Prevention Month

Name-calling, mockery, harassment and threats are bullying. They are traumatic. Remember: Any experience that leaves a person feeling hopeless, helpless and unable to do something about their situation is trauma. Children who experience bullying often feel unsafe at school. They might worry about seeing other students in class or in the hallways who are overtly mean by calling them names or show more covert behaviors such laughing as they walk by or giving nasty looks. Students who are bullied might be fearful of rumors saying, “Someone is going to beat you up today.” They are often afraid to discuss their problems due to embarrassment or worry that reports will just make things worse.

What Are the Signs of Possibly Bullying?

While every student may process the emotional toll of bullying in different ways, there are several signs that should encourage teachers to stay curious about what might be happening:

  • Sudden tearfulness but will not disclose what is wrong
  • Sitting or doing things alone
  • Self-deprecating remarks
  • Changes in mood and behavior
  • Decline in school functioning
  • Attendance issues – students who are bullied often skip school

How Can Teachers Prevent Bullying?

It's certainly the responsibility of staff to intervene when witnessing or hearing about bullying in their school or classroom. However, there are several strategies for teachers to be proactive before the bullying occurs:

  • Do not brush off the small stuff. Take name-calling, mockery, harassment and threats seriously.
  • Set the tone immediately for kind, inclusive and respectful interactions and behavior. Continue these discussions often.
  • Make reporting bullying feel safe for victims and witnesses.
  • Adult supervision should be present everywhere in the school building.
  • Make sure every student feels connected to at least one adult in your building.
  • Make intentional connection opportunities for students who need support from peers.

Making intentional efforts to connect with all students throughout the school is critical. We should not expect every staff member to have a relationship with every student in the school, but we can certainly expect the staff as a whole to ensure every student has an adult they can rely on in the building. Click below to download Starr's individual and school-wide connections assessments.

Download your free connections assessment

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