"Teach every child like you're their lifeline… like you're their last chance to succeed."
I was a principal when I read the news that a former colleague from another district, Joe Turner, was named Teacher of the Year. A reporter had asked him for his advice to new teachers, and that was what he said.
It shook me to my core.
It eventually inspired an initiative at our school that we simply called “Lifelines.” It wasn’t a formal program. There was no paperwork. We simply asked staff members to be a lifeline for one or two students who needed an adult firmly in their corner.
The Challenge of Connection
Our counselor facilitated the process of connecting staff members with their “lifelines”… and for the most part, she was able to pair staff members with kids who they saw every day. And that makes sense; there was a built-in connection. She gave me my three “lifelines,” but there was a catch: I didn't teach them. I didn't see them in class. The hallways were too crowded for deep talk, and calling them to the office felt... well, like calling them to the office.
So I struggled to make connections with my kids.
Caleb was my biggest challenge. This dude was tough. He was too cool for school and certainly too cool for the principal. He wouldn't look at me, let alone talk.
The "Flip"
I had an idea. I was going to flip the script on this guy… so I called him down to the office, and after making some small talk, I asked him for a favor. Students aren’t used to their principal asking for favors; I immediately knew he was intrigued when I said:
“Caleb… most days I’m doing great, but not always. Everyone benefits from someone checking on them. Would you do me a favor and check on me every day—just to make sure I’m doing alright?”
He smiled. He said "Okay."
I had the same conversation with the two other students.
The results fired me up. Caleb started making eye contact. He smiled. He asked me how my day was going. Those quick check-ins gave me a chance to connect with these guys—and they learned to look out for someone else’s well-being too.
The Bottom Line
Sometimes being a lifeline doesn’t start with a big program or a grand gesture. It starts with a simple conversation and the courage to think outside the box. I was vulnerable with Caleb, and that made room for him to be vulnerable with me.
These days, two things bring me the most joy: supporting principals and inspiring teachers. If you're interested in leadership coaching for your principals, or if you're looking for someone to energize your staff as you prepare for the upcoming school year, I’d love to help. Let’s connect.
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Rock on,
Danny
