Here's to the Students Who Inspire Us Every Day
Written by Matthew Hayes, AS, NLP
We meet a lot of students in our work. Some only for a short stretch of time, others long enough that we start to see the slight shifts in how they move through their world. When people ask what keeps us committed to schools, especially the ones carrying the heaviest challenges, we usually tell them the same thing: the students end up shaping us as much as we try to support them. They remind us why none of this work is simple, and why it’s still worth every hour, every conversation, every quiet moment sitting next to a child who isn’t sure how to let anyone in.
One student comes to mind first. As a preschooler, this student was at an age when most children are being gently guided into their first friendships and routines; however, they were already carrying more than most adults ever will. Their aggression could fill a room. They yelled, swung, slammed their hands, and grabbed at the staff. Some days, it felt like the world had taught them early that being tough was safer than letting their guard down. People treated this child like they were fragile, which only made them feel more misunderstood. Handling them gently wasn’t the same as helping them grow.
But we stayed with this student. Consistency, patience, and steady expectations: the kind of care that doesn’t leave when things get loud or unpredictable. Bit by bit, the child began trusting that they didn’t need to fight for space or attention. Their body relaxed more often, words softened, eyes didn’t dart around quite so much, waiting for something to go wrong. The student who used to meet the world like a storm opened up in ways that changed whatever room they were in. Staff started calling them “the sweetest thing,” not because their story magically shifted, but because they finally had adults who believed they could be more than the worst moments that shaped them.
Stories like that have a way of teaching us something important: behavior is rarely the whole story. It’s often the only language a child has in that season of their life. Young children do not have the words or the trust needed to tell others what is going on in their lives and to express their feelings and concerns. Thus, they communicate using their behavior.
In this work, the progress we observe is sometimes so subtle that only those closest to it know it happened. One of our colleagues once told us that she had to learn how to slow down and recognize the tiny steps forward. A glance of trust from a student who rarely makes eye contact. A teacher who takes a breath before reacting. A parent who shows up to a meeting they almost skipped. None of those moments appear in a report or get applause, yet they are often the turning points that lead to larger change. We’ve learned that celebrating small victories isn’t about being overly optimistic but about honoring the effort it takes for people, children, and adults to move through hard things. When we slow down and take the time to notice and then support these important changes, something great can be accomplished.
“We’ve learned that celebrating small victories isn’t about being overly optimistic but about honoring the effort it takes for people, children, and adults to move through hard things.”
And there are days when the work extends far beyond behavior or instruction. A few years ago, one of our paraprofessionals arrived at a school only to learn that a teacher had died unexpectedly a few nights before. The staff and students were shaken, and no one knew exactly what the day was supposed to look like.
Our team member could have said, “We’ll come back when things are settled.” Instead, he stayed. He sat with students who were confused and scared. He checked in on teachers who were trying to keep themselves together. He didn’t rush or try to fix anything but simply held space, a kind of presence that can’t be written into a contract. Moments like that reveal the heart of our organization more clearly than any website description ever could. We’re not just here to provide a service. We’re here because people matter, and sometimes the most important work has nothing to do with what we planned for that day.
“We’re not just here to provide a service. We’re here because people matter, and sometimes the most important work has nothing to do with what we planned for that day.”
And this is the part many people don’t see unless they’ve stood in these classrooms with us: the students we serve are often navigating landscapes shaped by instability, past hardships, medical needs, or being emotionally overwhelmed. Yet they still show up. Some wobble, some push back, some shut down, and some spark with energy that feels too big to contain. But they come back the next day, and that persistence is something we never take lightly.
The longer we do this work, the more convinced we become that students aren’t just recipients of support - they are our teachers as well. They reveal how patience stretches, how empathy grows, and how understanding deepens when you slow down and actually listen. They show us the value of meeting someone exactly where they are, even if that place is messy or complicated. They help us realize how important it is to identify improvement and to take the time to support and reinforce these positive changes.
“The longer we do this work, the more convinced we become that students aren’t just recipients of support - they are our teachers as well.”
Every child who crosses our path leaves something with us, whether it be a new perspective, a new sense of possibility, or a reminder that growth rarely looks neat. When we think about the organization we’re building, the services we provide, the schools we partner with, it all comes back to one simple thing: we want students to feel that someone is in their corner, not just during the calm moments, but in the moments when they’re overwhelmed, misunderstood, or struggling to be seen.
So this is our dedication to them. The students who test boundaries. The ones who make us rethink what we thought we knew about behavior, resilience, and human connection. The ones who surprise us with their breakthroughs and the ones who keep showing up even when life makes that hard.
Here’s to the students who inspire us every day. We’re honored to walk beside you, to learn from you, and to believe in what’s possible for you, even on the days you can’t see it yet.
