Today, I was put in my place by a seven year-old boy.

It was a rough Monday, in which I felt like a complete failure as a teacher. We had our all-day rehearsal for our winter concert.  Like I said, it was rough.  I was frustrated and literally almost to the point of tears.  Then my second-grade class came on the stage to rehearse...and this boy wiped all those feelings away.

This seven year-old is a student who is told everyday that he is failing academically and is routinely sat out of class for his "restlessness and behavior."  A boy who is laughed at by his peers because he has issues controlling his body and can be at times, uncoordinated and a bit of a mess.

But today, I watched this boy come alive.

He performed a three minute dance without forgetting a step and with a smile on his face the entire time and with complete joy.  At the end, he looked at me earnestly and asked "can we do it again?!?"

Did he do the dance perfectly? No. Were there parts he can improve on? Of course. Will he grow up to be some amazing professional dancer? Most likely not.  But this boy walked out of school feeling pride and confidence, for maybe one of the few times in his life.

Suddenly, my sense of failure didn't seem that big anymore.

It's amazing how sometimes it takes a seven year-old to put you in your place...at least in my case.   As a teacher, it's very easy to get run-down and discouraged by the things around you. To become disappointed by the expectations you have set for your students...taking the blame for their mistakes.  For me, I am especially hard on myself. I am my own worst critic. But see, this boy taught me that the outcome of my teaching may not come in the forms I expect it to.

As teachers, it's common and important to set our standards high.  We should.  Especially with my students here, I want to push them, to challenge them further than they've been pushed before.  Many of them have never been pushed or challenged at all in their lives.  They sometimes think that they can "get by" through the minimal amount of work.

But there is a balance.  We need to push but we also need to trust in our students and in our teaching.  We need to understand that those "little goals" our students reach may actually be huge successes for a specific child.  

We need to realize that a student's standard for success may be different but no less important or valuable.

This boy, he will never be able to perfect a piece of choreography with the precision of a talented and naturally gifted dancer.  But there are other goals for him.   The fact that he recalled a sequential phrase of movement for three minutes without making a mistake--that is incredible.  The fact that this boy who commonly falls over his own feet while walking down the hall (major body control issues), made it through a dance without falling over or running into someone next to him...SUCCESS.  

Today, this student taught me to look past my own expectations, keep my mind open and understand that success can come in all forms, shapes and outcomes.

This boy reminded me of why I do what I do. I'm not creating world-class dancers...maybe I will...but honestly, I am enabling children to find their own way to succeed, to come alive, to find joy within the thing that brings me the most joy: dance.

Everyday is an opportunity to allow another child to find a way to come alive.  To succeed.  To find joy and pride.

And as I go to sleep tonight and wake up for another day, this is what will echo in my heart:


Chin up. Keep walking. There is more to be done. 

Let's see who will teach me tomorrow.