Love permeates every thread that carefully weaves a school community together, yet it is a word that doesn’t quite roll as naturally off the educational tongue.
We regularly speak about the power of relationships “at the heart of all that we do”. The heart is a place for trust and love, yet our curriculum and many of our policies dance around this word or miss it out altogether.
In a recent in-service session, delving into the effects of trauma and adversity, I felt compelled to talk about love - to briefly say it out loud. I was making the point that to work relentlessly for the benefit of the children in your care, at your own emotional expense, is love.
Loving interactions have helped to anchor those of us involved in education amid the turbulence of teaching in a pandemic.
I invite you to pause and think about these relatable stories of love:
- Have you witnessed the triumph of the underdog lately? A child, who against all odds, is thriving. The swelling of your heart when you see even the tiniest glimpse of their success.
- Have you felt the physical pain of watching a child who struggles daily with an unimaginable weight, carrying the problems of the adults around them, but who smiles and shows up with innate kindness and unfounded optimism?
- Have you experienced the feeling of complete dread when walking from the car to your school, only for that feeling to evaporate as you welcome your learners into your classroom?
As a profession, we could fill page after page with stories of love like these - and what a read that would be.
But now it’s time to show love to each other: to be patient, forgiving and relentlessly kind with colleagues; to challenge each other when we have convinced ourselves that more hours equals better results. The tiny support networks that branch out across schools need to extend and connect further. We need to take turns at sharing our strength on the good days and attuning to one another, stepping out of ourselves, looking up and connecting.
I once worked with a lovely teacher who would bring in Mortons crispy rolls and butter for the end of a school day. A moment of buttery, crumb-filled love made a difference - thank you, Agnes. I wonder what other loving interactions have been shared in other classrooms at the end of the school day.
I would encourage all of those giving their heart and soul in our schools to be present (even for a moment) and take in all the tiny moments of human connection that make a difference. Relish in the importance of simple acts of kindness: cold hands tying wet shoelaces, discreet snacks to replace missed breakfasts, constantly full kettles, compliments in the corridor, an acknowledging smile.
Love (in whatever capacity makes sense to you) brought you into education, and there is strength in love - and our children need a loving education now more than ever.
Victoria McCabe is a principal teacher at Neilston Primary School and Madras Family Centre, in East Renfrewshire
