Overview:
A veteran elementary teacher recounts how she helped two students stuck in an exclusive friendship by challenging her whole class to widen their social circles—and argues adults should do the same.
Last winter, I noticed that two students in my room – who ordinarily had played very, very happily together – were showing outward signs that they were frustrated with each other at recess. Teachers and families alike can vouch for the pandemic’s inevitable effect on students’ social skills and social practices, regardless of where they attended school or how old they were.
I have been an elementary teacher for more than three decades, teaching every grade from 1 to 5 over the past 34 years. One of the soft, yet crucial skills that teachers develop over time is how to “read the room” to see what students need, in order to help students develop both academically and socially. I learned this important skill from colleagues who were my mentors, observing them making this growth happen for children while these experienced teachers were on the playground, in the classroom, or at the cafeteria door. Now, as a “gray, old-lady teacher,” I am thankful for these many lessons, taught to me by the strong women who blazed trails before me.
While we teachers have been working overtime to provide social-emotional learning and support in these past few years, students have been doing their part by working very hard to practice their social skills. But sometimes, students – like all of us – need help when they become stuck socially.
So, one morning after this little rift became outwardly apparent to me, I made myself more available by sidling quietly over to one of the two students who was looking dejected. I commented on the weather, and asked her about her weekend. Then I remarked, “You know, I am surprised that I don’t see you playing with Anonymous Student today. I had to wipe my glasses and look twice when I saw you over here on the bench.” My weary student’s gaze shifted to the grass. Then, I asked a curious question, which is the secret tool that every teacher has in her toolbox: “So, how are things going?”
The girl visibly inhaled and exhaled. I saw her get just a little teary, but then she gained her composure. “Mrs. Murphy,” she intoned. “I do like Anonymous Student, but lately I feel like she is a ‘hold-on-tight’ friend.”
“Tell me more,” I said, leaning in to show I was listening to the sentences which were to come, even though I could predict them with 100 percent accuracy. My earnest student told me a familiar story. Girl meets girl, and they become fast friends. Exclusive friends. Accidentally at first, but then, proudly. After a while, one girl decides that she’d like to invite another girl into the mix, but the second girl wants the Exclusive Rights to their friendship, and objects. Chaos ensues. Without a little teacher involvement, the curtain on the friendship might fall in a heap, leaving two unhappy actors with no more roles to play. I’ve seen this play begin many times before, and now I can recite the lines in my head.
“Well,” I said, “Clearly you are a great friend. So great, in fact, that Anonymous Student doesn’t want to lose you! That is the good news. But let’s discuss the bad news. I understand that you would like to play with others. But can you pretend for a moment to be Anonymous Student? Can you put your feet in her sneakers and see how she might be seeing things? She has this wonderful friend, who is her only friend. Can you see how she might feel, if you say you want to play with another person, too?” My adorable student’s eyebrows raised. I thought I saw one side of her mouth turn up into a little smile, just for a moment. “I think I have a plan to turn the bad news into more good news,” I told her. I explained it to her briefly, to let her know I wasn’t going to ignore her situation, and that I would help her.
For the next few weeks, during my regular “class meeting,” which is the name I give to our social competency learning time, I suggested that our class was ready for an amazing challenge. I challenged them to see if they could widen their social circle. I explained that spiders have it right when they weave multiple silken strands together into a durable and beautiful web. “If they only had one strand, they couldn’t catch any flies,” I quipped.
Our class made a list of ways we could get to know our class members even better. I challenged the class to play with someone completely new and different at our next recess. The class was kind enough to humor their teacher and invite students to play who ordinarily ran in different social circles. I took pictures of toothy grins playing with new friends, and I shared them at our next meeting, praising their efforts.
In the next few weeks, we played “finish the sentence” games, and I noted the sentences which caused the class to all talk at once, over the answerer. After every student had completed one sentence which they had drawn from a bowl, I pointed out those most popular sentence starters, which they could use to start a conversation with a student who was new to them. “So now you know how to start the conversation, and you know it will be a good one,” I said. “Try it out at recess, and tell me how it works.”
Over the next several weeks, I reminded students of our goal – which I have found has the surprising effect of making that goal float to the top of students’ consciousness. Every few weeks, I gave students a “privacy folder” – much like the voting booths in our small New England towns – and an index card. “Write the names of four or five students in this classroom with whom you are friendly enough to play or partner during work time,” I urged.
In the privacy of my empty classroom after school, I tallied the students who got a mention or two – or four. Early on, I looked to see who did not get a mention, and made sure to buddy that student with another likely future friend for work projects, or give the two students a special errand or job.
Sometimes, when students got their index card and voting booth, I asked for the names of three students with whom they might talk to or play, who were still not as familiar as their other classmates. I changed the desks so they would be geographically near, or I made sure they were science partners. In brief, I did what I had seen my amazing now-retired colleagues doing when I was a young, green teacher: they watched students, took mental notes, and used that data to improve students’ skills. They knew that a picture is worth a thousand words.
In early spring, as the first buds appeared on the trees on our back playground, I asked students to list four or five of their friends on the now-familiar index card. When I tallied, I got confirmation of what I had been seeing: every student got a few mentions, at least. No student had a monopoly, however. The web had become strong.
One early May day, “Anonymous Student” was uncharacteristically absent. My original friend bounded up to me on the playground and asked if that student was just going to be late, or whether she would be absent all day. When I told her that I believed the absent student was sick, and wouldn’t be there all day, my friend exclaimed, “Oh, too bad!!” I smiled and told her that I was so happy that she and Anonymous Student had forged a strong and flexible friendship, which couldn’t be pulled apart, and I reminded her about her many other new friends. She gave me a little sideways grin, flipped her long brown hair, and zoomed across the playground to another girl. I watched them, feeling happy that my little plan had worked. The next day, when Anonymous Student returned, I watched again, as the original duo held hands on their respective swings. It was a sweet sight.
Now, more than ever, we adults need to follow my two young students’ social lead. Has it been a while since we invited someone new to join our conversation as we stand and talk at a school, civic, or religious event? I realize that I could also use a regular refresher, as I tend to enjoy my own familiar friends during our teacher professional development afternoons, or in the teacher’s room at lunch. Teachers are not immune to doing the same things their students do, after all. Could we all begin a calm and rational conversation with someone whose political views are opposite of our own?
By widening our social circles and putting ourselves in others’ shoes, we might accomplish more than just gaining new friends: we might make a stronger spider web throughout this world and hold ourselves tightly inside it. I encourage you to try it this week. After all, we’re all in this world-wide web together.
