I looked out into an empty classroom today and I had to hold back the tears. What I miss most as a teacher right now is being able to help act as interpreter, a secret skill middle school teachers possess that we don’t talk about very often.

A student might walk into my class with the hood up on his/her sweatshirt, knowing I will tell them to put it down. But it also tells me something is wrong today. Do you have a pimple or a bad haircut? Did someone text you or post about you last night that made you feel ugly or less than? Did you say something/text something/post something that you regret, and you feel badly about today? If this student was in my class today, in between my passes through the rows of desks and my questions from my podium I could watch. Are you ok? I would ask myself in silence. Are others showing they are in on this by their body language or have they not noticed? Are you improving as the time passes in the class? Has your head come up a bit, does a compliment from me help? Or should I leave you alone? Is it too much being called on right now? I can protect my students invisibly, asking other teachers to check on them in other classes as the day continues. I can make sure they are ok before the day ends.

A student might come to class with a hopeful look, waiting for confirmation on the new shoes or the high five after the big game the day before. They want someone to acknowledge their wider than normal smile, their bigger than normal eyes. I can hear it from their friends, in whispers of congratulations. I can see it in the way they stand taller. I can affirm what they need others to see; I can help others see it.

Some middle schoolers may not feel themselves right now, without that dancefloor beneath them or that soccer huddle that makes them feel they belong or the adrenaline of being on a base and waiting to run home. Middle schoolers need a lot, but will never ask for it. They need encouragement even when they won’t tell you what is wrong. They need affirmation even when they won’t call attention to themselves and brag about their accomplishments. Middle schoolers need interpreters, like teachers.

Try not to take it personally when they snap at you; they miss their friends. Try to be patient when they argue about doing chores; they don’t want to tell you they are in tears in their room just wishing for one more game or recital or chance at bat. Forgive them when they say things to you that make you feel they don’t appreciate you – they don’t mean it – they need to spill their worries out on you and they don’t think about how it might make you feel. Be an interpreter. Read their cues and try to help affirm and encourage. Hang in there!