AS I TAUGHT, I tried to make eye contact with each of my students. Some drifted off to sleep, some seemed pleasantly attentive, and others looked as if they had swallowed Mexican jumping beans. In short, it was an ordinary scene in my high school study skills class—ordinary except for Lindsey, who sat bolt upright and tried to pierce me with death stares.
Lindsey and I had been close. I knew about her parents' disintegrating marriage, the boys she liked, and even the names of her five family dogs. Over the several years we had worked together, I had devoted hours to helping her achieve her goals. I couldn't imagine what had gone wrong.
Finally, I asked her. She shrugged, said her classes were hard, and went back to her homework. But several days later, she asked to talk to me. She felt I had treated her unfairly. I had graded her harshly, she said, and had favored other students. At first I felt hurt, but I set aside my feelings and employed my best listening skills. I thanked her for being brave enough to talk to me, acknowledged her feelings, and explained my side of the story. We set up a plan to prevent the same problem from re-occuring. We embraced, and I was proud of myself for how skillfully I had handled the situation.
