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They Remember Kindness

  • Catherine Addor
  • 5 days ago
  • 5 min read



Last Friday, my daughter went to her 8th-grade dance.


There was the dress, the pictures, the friends, the excitement, the small moments that somehow become big memories before we even realize it. Watching her step into that milestone brought me right back to my own 8th-grade dance.


Not because of the decorations.


Not because of the music.


Not because I remember every detail of what I wore or who stood where in the gym.


But because of the boy I went with.


Years later, when I was in my late 30s, that boy contacted me on Facebook. His name is Sean Waller, and he was writing a book about that period of his life. The book was Sick Boy, and he told me I was a character in it. He asked if I would read it.


Imagine that for a moment.


A middle school memory, tucked away in the ordinary corners of growing up, had stayed with someone long enough to become part of a story.


Sean and I have had the opportunity to do character education sessions together. Each time, I come back to the same lesson from my perspective:


It matters that you were kind when you were 12.


It matters because people remember.


They may not remember the exact words you said. They may not remember what assignment was due, what grade they got, or what the bulletin board looked like in May. They remember how they felt around you. They remember who made them feel seen. They remember who made them feel safe. They remember who did not make life harder than it already was.


That is a fundamental truth of teaching.


Classroom instruction is not just about content delivery. It is about the conditions we create for learning. Before students can take academic risks, participate in discussions, revise their thinking, or persist through challenge, they need to feel that they matter in the room.


Kindness is not soft.


Kindness is instructional infrastructure.


It is the way we greet students at the door. It is the pause before correction. It is the decision to ask, “What happened?” before assuming, “What is wrong with you?” It is the ability to hold high expectations without stripping away dignity. It is remembering that every student in front of us is living a story we may only see one page of.


In middle school, especially, students are constantly becoming. They are trying on identities, navigating friendships, managing insecurities, testing independence, and wondering where they belong. The smallest interactions can land deeply. A sarcastic comment can stay. A moment of exclusion can stay. But so can an act of kindness.


So can a teacher who notices.


So can a peer who includes.


So can an adult who believes the student is more than the behavior of the day.


That is why kindness belongs in our conversations about fundamentals. It is not an extra. It is not a personality trait that some teachers have, and others do not. It is a practice. It is a choice. It is a classroom norm that has to be modeled, taught, protected, and expected.


We teach students how to solve equations, write claims, analyze text, conduct investigations, and explain their thinking. We also teach them how to listen, how to disagree, how to include, how to apologize, how to repair, and how to notice the humanity in someone else.


Those lessons last.


Sometimes for decades.


Sometimes long enough to become part of a book.


Sometimes long enough to bring two people back together, not just to remember middle school, but to help today’s students understand that who they are becoming matters.


Reflection helps us notice the culture we are creating, not just the lessons we are teaching. These questions invite us to look beyond compliance and achievement and consider the emotional memory students may carry from our classrooms.


  • How do students feel when they enter my classroom each day?

  • Do my words communicate both high expectations and deep respect?

  • When students make mistakes, do I respond in ways that protect dignity?

  • Who in my classroom may feel unseen, excluded, or quietly disconnected?

  • How am I intentionally teaching kindness, empathy, and repair, rather than assuming students already know how to practice them?

  • Do students have regular opportunities to learn about one another beyond academic performance?

  • What routines in my classroom help students feel known by name, strength, interest, and story?

  • How do I respond when students are unkind to one another?

  • Am I modeling the kind of interactions I hope students will remember years from now?

  • If a student remembered only how they felt in my classroom, what would I hope they would carry with them?


Kindness becomes part of classroom instruction when it is practiced with intention. These next steps are small, realistic moves that can strengthen both relationships and learning conditions.


  • Start with belonging.

    • Greet students by name, notice who is absent, and create predictable routines that communicate, “You are expected here, and you matter here.”

  • Teach kindness explicitly.

    • Do not assume students know what kindness looks like in group work, hallway transitions, peer feedback, online spaces, or disagreement. Name it, model it, practice it, and revisit it.

  • Use language that preserves dignity.

    • Replace public correction with private redirection whenever possible. Speak to students in ways that allow them to recover, repair, and rejoin the learning community.

  • Build peer connection into instruction.

    • Use turn-and-talks, partner reflections, collaborative problem-solving, and structured sharing, so students learn with and from one another, not just beside one another.

  • Notice the quiet kindness.

    • Acknowledge students who include others, help without being asked, listen carefully, or show patience. What we notice, we grow.

  • Create repair routines.

    • When harm happens, teach students how to acknowledge it, apologize meaningfully, and make a better choice next time. Accountability and compassion can exist together.

  • Protect the vulnerable moments.

    • Presentations, group selection, lunch tables, dances, performances, and transitions can all be socially loaded. Plan for inclusion before exclusion has a chance to take root.

  • Connect content to character.

    • Whether teaching literature, history, science, math, or the arts, ask students to consider perspective, responsibility, impact, and the human consequences of choices.

  • Invite students to reflect on who they are becoming.

    • Build in prompts such as, “How did I contribute today?” or “How did I make learning easier for someone else?” Reflection helps students see character as action.

  • Remember that memory is being made.

    • Every classroom creates stories that students may carry forward. Be intentional about the kind of story your classroom helps them tell.


The 8th-grade dance is one of those milestones that looks small from the outside and feels enormous from the inside. For our students, these moments become part of the architecture of memory. They remember who asked them to dance, who included them in the picture, who laughed with them, who laughed at them, who made them feel brave, and who made them want to disappear.


The same is true in our classrooms.


Students may not remember every lesson we teach, but they will remember the climate we created. They will remember whether they felt capable. They will remember whether they felt respected. They will remember whether kindness was something we posted on the wall or something we practiced in the room.


As educators, we are not only teaching content. We are shaping the way students understand themselves and one another. We are helping them build the habits they will carry into their friendships, families, workplaces, communities, and leadership roles.


Yes, teach the lesson.


Teach it well.


Also teach them that kindness counts.


Teach them that how they treat people matters.


Teach them that the person sitting next to them is living a story, too.


Someday, years from now, someone may remember them.


What a powerful thing it would be if what they remembered was kindness.



(Yes, that is a filtered copy of an actual photo from 1984)

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