Getting the most from our kids in the K-6 educational system: Why High Expectations Still Require Deep Connections
By Rebecca Rivera UA’23 and Jim Stellar
Let’s open with this question from our last blog. “The question is how do we get the right kind of attention to the enterprise?” and “How do we get the most out of our kids who are in the system?” JS recently wrote a Substack post on leading institutions from the heart with an elementary school principle who he had known since he was a Provost at Queens College CUNY.
I (RR) am two semesters away from earning my teaching degree at Hunter College. In the meantime, I have been substitute teaching and assisting in a gifted and talented elementary school in New York City. It is a dramatically different environment from the preschool classroom I was previously in. Here, the curriculum is fast-paced, the work is rigorous, and the expectations are high. Yet what stands out most is how essential relationships are, especially in a school like this. In a setting where students are constantly pushed to work harder, perform better, and think deeper, the smallest moments of connection become anchors for not just myself but the students as well. What I’m noticing is that these little moments of connection matter even more in an environment built on great expectations. Gifted students are capable, curious, and incredibly perceptive– but they are still children.
Teaching is always a blend of policy, resources, and organizational pressures– but as we argued before, it is human connection that ultimately holds the system together. These connections, among educators, students, and between them, are what keep people committed during challenges; They determine whether a school is simply a medium for delivery of information or a genuine learning community. As JS recently wrote in that Substack post, institutions flourish when leaders and educators allow joy and purpose to shape their work.
LJ in that substack post writes that leading in an elementary school means establishing an atmosphere of inclusion, empathy, and high expectations not only in academics but for how we treat each other. High performance and sympathetic intelligence do not have to be mutually exclusive; in fact, they strengthen one another. The more seen and supported a student feels, the braver they become in their thinking. The more safety they find in teachers, the more likely they are to persist, ask questions, and try new things.
Recently, one of my third graders confided in me that she felt like her teachers hated her. Whether or not that perception was accurate wasn’t the point– what mattered was that the feeling she had was real, and it was shaping her experiences at school. After that conversation, I let her classroom teacher know and we became more intentional about working to build a positive relationship with her so that she knew that no adult in the building felt negativity towards her and that she could feel safe with us. We constantly checked in with her, offered her help when she needed it, and stood up for her in small moments. Slowly, we watched her shift. She became more motivated to improve her scores in math. She began consistently completing her reading homework after weeks of getting zeroes. Most importantly, she didn’t hate coming to school anymore. Her transformation reminded me that the joy of learning doesn’t come from high test scores or perfect performances – it grows when students feel seen, valued, and supported. Connection isn’t an add-on that comes only after academic success, but a prerequisite for it.
Let me relate a story about the joy of learning that comes from the other end of the educational spectrum. When I first started my academic career as an Assistant Professor, it was at Harvard University and perhaps because of that my father, who was then President of the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia invited me to the occasional meetings as his guest. I came and sat quietly listening to these senior people talk about their scholarship and ideas. One time I remember sitting in the auditorium that seated perhaps 150 people in one of six seats in the last row and realizing that not only was I by far the youngest person in that row, but that I was the only one who did not have a Nobel Prize. The person next to me, Dr. Linus Pauling, who had two of them. The entire format of the meeting was for a few members to present talks on their research or work in all fields to the other members to share their discoveries and to share the joy in making them. As far as I can figure, this is what Benjamin Franklin wanted when he started the Society in 1743. I thought if they can be so joyous at their level, I can be joyous in my scholarship and in my teaching. I try to always remember that. Joy precedes learning, as RR says, and it follows it.
So, going back to the title, why do I (RR) think high expectations require deep connections? First, meaningful learning is very difficult to sustain when anxiety and disconnection are present rather than joy and passion. Second, when educators demonstrate genuine enthusiasm and care for the subjects they teach, it is often contagious. Third, this shared sense of passion can encourage students to not only invest in that particular subject but enable them to develop a lasting interest in learning itself. I experienced these statements to be true as a student myself when I started high school. I remember sitting in my trigonometry class convinced that the subject was pointless and had no meaning in the real world. As a result, I had little to no motivation to participate in class or complete my homework. What shifted my perspective was my teacher; He taught trigonometry with visible, genuine excitement. His enthusiasm for math was so great, he even had the quadratic formula tattooed on his forearm. I felt that he wholeheartedly wanted us to not only become great mathematicians but great people. Over time, his energy helped me improve my scores in all of my classes. I began to think: “If someone could find such joy and meaning in math, I could do the same for school.”
High expectations cannot simply be imposed on students without first cultivating an environment that is rooted in joy and genuine care. When this aspect of teaching is absent, expectations and standards become punitive.