The Other Side of Oliver

“It’s not fair. You always take his side.  You never listen to me,” said Oliver.  His anger rose. His arms flailed. The teacher’s efforts to calm Oliver failed. Oliver screamed, “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!”

These angry outbursts became frequent following Oliver’s enrollment at our school. Miss Claire, our learning specialist, worked with students across all grade levels who experienced academic, behavioral, or emotional challenges. Understanding what triggered Oliver’s anger, and helping him develop effective strategies to manage his emotions, became a priority for his teachers. Miss Claire’s experience and expertise in working with students facing similar challenges made her an invaluable resource in our efforts to understand and support Oliver.

Miss Claire responded to Oliver and approached him with sympathetic body language. She knelt beside him, not across from him.  She did not touch him.  In a gentle voice, she said, “Oliver, I can see that you’re upset.  I’ll wait here with you and give you some time to calm down.” 

A few minutes later, she said, “I can see that you’re beginning to feel a little better.  I’ll give you some more time.  Then we can walk to our safe place and you can tell me what made you angry.”

Miss Claire offered him a choice, “Oliver, are you ready now to walk with me or do you need a few more minutes?” Miss Claire waited for Oliver’s response.  “I’m ready now,” he said.

She acknowledged his response. “Thank you. Would you like to hold my hand while we walk?”

Oliver reached for Miss Claire’s hand and as they walked together, she reassured him that she would listen to his side of the story. 

There’s another side of Oliver’s story that is both complex and distressing.  I learned the details from Oliver’s grandparents upon their visit to the school seeking his enrollment.

Oliver’s grandmother began our meeting by saying, “Our grandson needs a loving and compassionate school. Can you provide that for Oliver?”

“As principal, I always do my best to provide a loving environment for all students.”

“Our grandson has gone through hell.  You need to know that.  And I’m telling you he may not be an easy student to teach.”

For over 30 minutes, Miss Eleanor explained the details. She began by stating the facts. Oliver’s mother was addicted to drugs. She was beaten regularly by her drug dealer, which Oliver often witnessed. Oliver was neglected, often spending hours alone in ramshackle apartments. He was also traumatized by witnessing a shooting. When Oliver was 5 years old, his grandparents became his legal guardians. Their devotion to raising their grandson in the right environment included a cross-country relocation.

Oliver's early childhood experiences were examples of what educators and mental health professionals identify as Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs. Abuse, neglect, and exposure to violence can have lasting effects on a child's emotional development, relationships, and responses to perceived threats. Understanding these experiences did not excuse Oliver's behavior, but it helped us recognize why conventional disciplinary responses were often ineffective.

Yet, it would take time, stability, and love for Oliver to recover from the trauma he experienced in his early childhood.  Oliver struggled during his first two years at our school.  His grade level teachers were experienced, but without background knowledge of the symptoms and therapies for teaching students with ACEs. 

Oliver directed his anger towards the teachers, yet he was gentle with his classmates.  When Oliver was in the midst of an outburst on the playground, his classmates, empathetic to his anger, gave him some space. 

Oliver learned to trust Miss Claire.  She was not like the adults in his life who neglected or abused him. Earning his trust did not happen immediately. Miss Claire’s patience and gentle approach communicated to Oliver that she would not punish him.  

Oliver’s grandmother visited with me frequently, usually following a disagreement with one of the teachers. Her tenacity to protect her grandson included unsolicited advice for his teachers at inopportune moments.  Her passion to protect her grandson explained her high-spirited, unannounced visits. Each of Miss Eleanor’s visits to my office was an opportunity to learn more about improving our holistic approach to teaching Oliver.  But first, I needed to solve the immediate need to soften Miss Eleanor’s approach to teacher professional development.  I had developed a positive relationship with her so when I explained that she was always welcome in my office without notice, she accepted my request to meet with me instead of ambushing Oliver’s teacher.

My conversation with Miss Eleanor led me to visit with Oliver’s second-grade teacher. I eased the teacher’s concerns about Miss Eleanor’s untimely visits and advice. “I know she means well but she interrupts the students’ morning procedures,” said Oliver’s teacher. She continued, “Miss Claire has been helpful with her advice.  She and I meet regularly.  I’ve even seen Oliver smile occasionally.”

Some teachers and parent volunteers, adamant that Oliver was getting away with disrespectful behavior towards teachers, told me, “How can you allow that child to get away with that behavior?” Or, “Our school has no room for that type of behavior.”  And this question, “What are you going to do about it?” was a thinly disguised message of when will that child be expelled from our school.

When questioned, I explained, “The confidentiality of meetings with parents and guardians will always be maintained.  I believe that all parents expect the same fairness and respect if it were their child.” When responding to the concerns raised by some teachers of repeated misbehavior by Oliver, I emphasized that we know what explains his misbehavior and now we have an obligation to teach him how to control his response.  

I had seen Oliver’s anger directed at a teacher because he felt threatened by authority.  I had seen Oliver respond to Miss Claire’s gentle touch.  And, I had seen another side of Oliver while he was playing with preschool students.  He shared a genuine kindness with each child he befriended.  He smiled often and his new friends returned the warmth.  

Oliver and a preschooler were assembling a large wooden jigsaw puzzle. “Let’s see if you can find the correct spot for this piece,” Oliver said as he handed the piece to the student.  When the student correctly inserted the piece, he looked up at Oliver with a big smile.  Oliver returned the smile.  “You’re getting the hang of it,” Oliver said. “That’s what my grandpa tells me when we do puzzles.”  

Upon his enrollment, Oliver was an emotionally fragile and scared second-grade student.  His emotional and academic progress was proverbially “slow and steady.”  Oliver’s setbacks were not surprising nor were the efforts of his grandparents. They did not give up on him. Our teachers’ resilience was tested, especially during setbacks. Miss Eleanor softened her approach, but her determination never wavered.

Miss Eleanor and her husband, Grandpa Henry offered me and our faculty the privilege to serve their grandchild. Miss Eleanor warned me that teaching her grandson would not be easy. Yet, a child’s soul was in jeopardy, and seen from this perspective, inspiration sustains, even in the darkest moments.

Ultimately, we became better teachers and administrators.  My philosophy that we, as a Catholic school, must be open to all students was affirmed. Empathy, compassion, and collaboration, working in unison, touch a person’s soul with the awesome power of human connection. With each year, Oliver continued to grow and learn. And so did our teachers.  My hope was that the next time a child screamed, “Don't touch me!” our teachers would hear something more than anger. They would hear a frightened child asking, “Please help me.”    

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