51萝莉

About four months into the year, we met Caleb.

He was new to our high school and carried himself with an air of indifference, like everything was a joke and none of the adults in his life had a clue. Within weeks, he was engaging in risky behavior and failing his classes.

In my first meeting with his parents, it was clear they were worried. They wanted their son to reengage with school and life. Caleb knew his behavior wasn鈥檛 appropriate and accepted that consequences would follow. Slouched in my office without eye contact, he didn鈥檛 seem to care. But beneath the tough exterior was a young man who desperately needed connection鈥攕omeone to notice him, believe in him, and remind him, even on his worst day, that he still belonged.

So, for the next three days, Caleb was connected to my hip.

We did his assignments in my office. I sat beside him and got a front-row view of where he was struggling and why. When I visited classes, he came too. Every time we walked the halls, he鈥檇 run behind me with a laugh:

鈥淒ang, Dr. S, why do you walk so fast?鈥� I鈥檇 respond, 鈥淚鈥檝e got things to do and kids to check on. Try to keep up.鈥�

We talked about his interests鈥攃ars, video games, music. Eventually, without words, he told me what he really wanted: to be seen.

He鈥檇 come from a school where, in his words, 鈥渋n-school suspension was the norm.鈥� Teachers gave up on him quickly. That wasn鈥檛 going to be our school. And I wasn鈥檛 going to be an educator who walked away.

Belonging Can鈥檛 Be Bought

Schools often respond to calls for 鈥渂elonging鈥� with programs or slogans. These efforts aren鈥檛 wrong, but they don鈥檛 replace the daily, often invisible work of making students feel seen, safe, and significant.

Students don鈥檛 feel they belong because of a poster in the hallway. They feel it when someone learns their name. When someone notices them. When they mess up, and someone still shows up. When a teacher pulls them aside鈥攏ot to scold鈥攂ut to ask, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 really going on?鈥�

What Belonging Looks Like

We don鈥檛 need a new initiative or a banner that says 鈥測ou belong here.鈥� We need a mindset鈥攐ne that treats every student like somebody鈥檚 somebody. Here鈥檚 what that looks like in our school:

 Students spend lunch with trusted adults鈥攏ot as a consequence, but because they feel safe. They come for quiet, homework help, a game of chess, or just a space where they feel known.

 Teachers open doors before and after school鈥攏ot for compensation, but because they know a quick conversation can change a student鈥檚 day.

 Adults greet students by name, remembering who made the team, who loves graphic novels, and who had a hard week.

 Staff look beyond behavior. Instead of labeling students as 鈥渄efiant鈥� or 鈥渓azy,鈥� they ask, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 behind this? We replace 鈥淗e鈥檚 not trying鈥� with 鈥淲hat鈥檚 getting in his way?鈥�

 Mentoring happens naturally. A teacher invites a student to help. A coach checks in about more than sports. A secretary keeps a favorite snack on hand for tough days.

These aren鈥檛 random acts of kindness. They are the heartbeat of a school culture rooted in connection.

Slowly, Caleb began to show up. He made eye contact. He smiled. His teachers saw glimpses of his humor. He began passing classes鈥攎any with As and Bs. He came to our weekly check-ins and talked about what was going well and what was still hard. He said our conversations mattered. One day, he thanked me鈥攆or seeing him, and for being hard on him when he needed it.

It Starts with Leadership

If we expect staff to build authentic relationships with students, we must model what that looks like. As principal, I strive to be visible and approachable. My assistant principal and I are in the halls, at lunch, at events, checking in with students after a rough class or celebrating a good day.

We know our students鈥攏ot just by name, but by story. We鈥檙e not perfect. But we are dedicated. We live the culture we want to see. And we鈥檙e clear with our team: building belonging isn鈥檛 extra work. It is the work.

When students trust the adults in charge鈥攚hen they feel safe and known鈥攅verything in the school begins to shift.

Toward connection. Toward compassion. Toward community.

Our Promise

Belonging is the foundation for attendance, achievement, and well-being. It takes every adult to make the daily decision to truly see students. It takes a leadership team willing to invest in people before programs. It takes the belief that connection isn鈥檛 just helpful鈥攊t鈥檚 non-negotiable.

Because belonging isn鈥檛 a program. It鈥檚 a promise we make to everyone who comes through our doors.