During the first week of October, I continue to make strong connections with our students. It seems that there is sometimes an overwhelming sense of stress woven through our days at school. The pace picks up, world news seeps in, and there is a general sense that all is not right in the world. I want to keep school as a haven for the children, so I make sure I reach out and check in with them when I can.
One day this week, as I helped students at dismissal, I asked one of the 5th graders I’ve known since kindergarten how she was feeling. Ellie is a bright and sensitive child who takes in the world around her so seriously and deeply. Our brief conversation became a bright spot in my ever-busy week. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: How’s it going, Ellie?
Ellie: Life is tough (looking down at the sidewalk pensively).
Me: Yes, life can be tough, but there are spots of joy all throughout (trying to add some cheer).
Ellie: Yes – that’s true. It’s like a gray rainy sky with polka-dots (she said matter-of-factly).
Me: (smiling to myself) What color are the polka-dots?
Ellie: They are all different colors and all different shapes. The joy is not perfectly round.
Me: No, nothing is perfect. I can see them now floating around a gray sky. Little colorful blobs (adding to the playfulness).
Ellie: Maybe there is a golden glow around each color (she continued playfully).
Me: That makes life not so hard.
Ellie: Yes – we can always look forward to the polka dots of joy (sounding hopeful).
And with that, Ellie hopped into her car and sped away.
Our encounter left me with a sense of calm. I intentionally try to meet kids where they are emotionally. Sometimes school is hard. Navigating friendships is difficult. Following endless directions is stressful. I didn’t want to dismiss Ellie’s feelings. I wanted to validate that some days can be hard but also give her some reassurance that joy is mixed into even our most stressful days. Ellie’s polka-dot metaphor surprised me, but it shouldn’t have. She is an old soul with a creative core. Once she shared her polka-dot image, I joined her in the play and asked, “What color are the polka- dots?” I wanted Ellie to pause, visualize, and shift her focus from the gloomy gray sky to the small bright spots of light. And she did, and in doing so, she lifted me up by describing the polka-dots as varied in color and shape and imperfect. Ellie followed my lead, and I felt like we were almost dancing through our day and tossing those polka-dots up into the gray sky. Ellie’s creativity allowed her to process complex emotions. Joy doesn’t need to look perfect or neat to be real and impactful. Ellie left me with a “golden glow,” a hope that even when things are hard, joy can warm and soothe us.
The next day, I walked from yet another meeting and found Ellie waiting in the lobby for her parents to pick her up early. She had a glum expression and several tissues in her hand. I sat down across from her and asked her how she was feeling. Our conversation picked up where we had left off the day before:
Me: Going home early? (sitting down, ready to listen).
Ellie: Yeah, I think I have what my sister has. I have gone through 25 tissues already today.
Me: Oh, feel better (leaning in and showing concern).
Ellie: Thanks, I’m going to Universal this weekend.
Me: Oh, definitely go home and rest. Maybe read a book.
Ellie: I think I’m just going to go to sleep.
Me: That’s good. Rest up. I’m sure you’ll feel better soon.
Ellie: My ears are clogged too. I hear ringing.
Me: That happens to me too. You’ll be okay. It’s just congestion.
Ellie: Life is tough (blowing her nose again).
Me: But there are always polka-dots of joy (getting up to go to yet another meeting)
Ellie: I think they are yellow today.
Me: Sunny yellow – that’ll make you feel better (turning around and smiling).
I’m so glad I was able to connect with Ellie when she was not feeling her best. I loved that I could carry on this sophisticated conversation with a ten-year-old. Ellie’s metaphor – polka-dots of joy – became a shared language for coping when we encounter the rough patches in our days. I feel so honored to have the ability to check in with students and help them feel more empowered. They teach me so much about how to navigate the world with hope and optimism. I’m glad I could help Ellie see the golden spots when life gets hard.
What color are your polka-dots of joy today? How can you help a child (or yourself) spot them in a gray sky?
