The other day, I got bitten. It wasn’t a hard bite—no skin was broken, no bruises were formed. But I got bitten. I got bitten by a child with whom I’ve been working on coping strategies and for whom the Student Support Team has formed a behavior plan that has made a 180 in his daily behavior. Things with him have been great lately. But on this day, for whatever reason, he got upset. He got upset and lashed out. I tried a number of ways to calm him down. Finally, it seemed necessary to bring him to a more isolated spot so that he could have out his tantrum. And then he bit me.
What happened next shocked me even more than the bite did. I calmed down. I found a place inner peace so strong, I could nearly hear the sounds of waves crashing on a beach and seagulls crowing in the sky. I dug deep in myself, found a place of compassion, a center of calmness, and I carried on. I told him simply, “You won’t do that.” Then, I stood by his side while he worked out the rest of his aggressive feelings while hiding in the corner of the hallway. When he calmed down, I had a pleasant, upbeat, and constructive conversation with him. He told me why he was mad. We agreed on what he could do better next time. We even came up with a code word that he can say when he feels himself escalating and we did a silly dramatic play of him being upset and using the code word to get what he needed.
HOW DID I DO THIS!?
I shocked even myself. Because, while 2/3 of my brain was tuning into this place of extreme calm, 1/3 of my brain was finding empathy with every child old who has ever been stung by mean words, hit, kicked, punched, or bitten. The injustice of it all! How dare he hurt me! How dare he do something mean to my body!? It’s not fair! I’m in pain and I’m not the one who was even mad! I didn’t even do anything mean to him!
When I look back, I think that it is reflection on this last sentence that helped me to find the serenity. By my standards, I didn’t do anything mean to him. But to him, in his schema, in his corner of the world, in his for year old’s perception of what is fair and right and just, he had been wronged. His feelings were hurt, his heart was feeling angry, and his tiny body was filled with a monumental pile of rage so big that it could not be contained by his 3 ½ feet of skin and bones. So he bit. He needed to get the anger out, so it came out. Hard.
Is it okay that he bit me? Absolutely not. Harming anyone else is absolutely unacceptable. But what helped me to calm down was tuning into sympathy for his feelings, not reactivity to his actions. What he needed first and foremost was support for calming down from being made mad enough to bite. Once he was able to recognize, accept, and deal with those feelings, THEN and only then was he able to face the music of having hurt another person.
Operating from this framework is NOT easy. I’m human and just like the kids, sometimes my feelings get the better of me. Sometimes I react and yell and lecture. I’ve failed at staying calm before and I’m certain that in my career as a teacher, sometime I will fail at it again. But in this moment, I’m proud of the peace I found and pleased with the way I handled the situation. And the successful feelings I had after the encounter leave me with the strength and determination to try to make flipping over to Zen mode my M/O for dealing with moments like this one.
It's Not Quite Elementary 
I’m not one to be the first to comment on my own post. But, in the interest of honesty with myself, I think it is only fair to comment that my own prophecy about myself came true. I wrote this entry originally as a reflection this past Thursday after the bite happened Wednesday. Then, lo and behold, I faced an even worse meltdown and was bitten again on Friday (in addition to spat upon and hit). That day, I did lose my cool. I used my ugly teacher voice, forgot all my strategies, and ended up throwing in the towel and calling in back up. I’m not proud. But, neither am I ashamed. I’m disappointed. I’m frustrated. But, I’m also trying to chalk it up to being human and also searching within myself to use the lessons I gained from feeling awful all day Friday to help me do better the next time. I have my thoughts, beliefs, philosophies, and experiences to guide everything I do. But so often, the whole state of being a teacher feels like one gigantic experiment. Here’s hoping I do better next time!
Your honesty is delightful; I love that you shared about your less than perfect reaction in a comment! I really like this line: “what helped me to calm down was tuning into sympathy for his feelings, not reactivity to his actions.” There is so much wisdom in this thought. So glad you are participating in this blogging challenge, Laura! I look forward to your writing.
“Operating from this framework is NOT easy.” That’s just the plain truth of it all. It’s not easy but you keep going. You fail and succeed and fail and succeed again. We only hope as teachers that our successes outweigh all our failures. Celebrate your successes as much as possible. So proud and inspired by your honesty, Laura. Thanks for sharing.
Your honesty inspires!!! Your love for your students is clearly apparent! I like how you seem to constantly reflect!!! In my opinion, the best teachers are the ones that reflect on their choices everyday! We all make mistakes. You are constantly looking for ways to improve. Way to go!
I appreciate the cheerleading :). I’m always trying to reflect and improve and always hoping that helps me do right by my students. But it isn’t always easy to keep it up. I appreciate the good vibes :).
Make sure you read this one at least once a week. Moving past your own pain and frustration is a miracle. It is so hard and you did it, and do it. Things will be hard but you can read this and know you have done the miraculous, and even if you don’t do it every time you can move forward and try again. You have the miraculous in you. You inspire me.