Love is the Eye of the Storm: The Call, Part 1

There he is, and I see him the moment I walk into the room. Arms crossed, pressed into the corner, chin tucked tightly against his fragile chest, jaw clenched, and nimble, first grade hands balled into fists. The yelling that pierces the classroom, his foot stomping over and over, the tears in his eyes...all part of this moment, and all part of his story.

The scene expands, opening like the establishing shot of a small, indie film...children all staring from their desks, concerned, nervous, the teacher worn thin, frayed from trying a hundred ways and a thousand words to save the boy's day and pull him back, the crushed potato chip bag that was his breakfast on the floor, the torn up graphic organizer on the desk, the stim-chew spaceman hanging around his neck swaying with his every gulp of air, a set of velcro strips laid out like soldiers on the desk next to him, a fidget next to the upside down chromebook, a pair of his handprints taped to the wall, with corresponding footprints on the floor...all part of the story; the detective in me is putting together shards of the puzzle, and they are shards because many of these boys and girls, and the puzzles they are, come to us busted up, pieces missing, but I ask him if I can approach him, if I can slowly be near him and when he nods, I lay down on the ground next to him, and speak in a loving voice, the way I would want my own children looked over if they were in stuck in a hole looking up at the world.

The boy has tools, interventions, supports he can access...sometimes, but all that can dissolve like a slice of bread in water. Things can be touch and go and no two situations are alike--every child, and every story, is different.

To understand the child requires you to understand his story.
And you've got to be a good reader, this is close reading kind of stuff.
Multiple reads, seeking out key words, patterns, repetition of ideas, ask the kinds of questions the story and the main characters really deserve...digging in deep.

It started months before that walkie-talkie squawked out: "Mr. Bowerman, we need you for immediate support, can you please come to room..."
It started before the first time he fell asleep at his desk.
Before the first time he shared that he was frightened.
Before the first work frustrations, the first punches, the first explosions; like I shared, digging in deep.

So I read the story of him with a love lens:
Chapter 1, Love must greet him and send him home everyday.
Chapter 2, Love has to wrap around his academics and social emotional supports that are at play.
Chapter 3, Love must provide boundaries and expectations and sustain him through them.
Chapter 4, Love must consistently partner with parents and caregivers.
Chapter 5, Love needs to connect his whole team daily.
Chapter 4, Love needs to surround this child.

By the way, this is a story, like so many others, that is as miraculous as it is painful, and has no final chapter.
When you meet this boy or girl, and you will, how can you love lead them to their next chapter?