08/15/2026
Maxwell sat front and center in the 4th grade classroom. His long, stringy hair suggested it hadn't been washed or even combed for days. The splotches in his swarthy skin reflected an unhealthy diet.
The over-sized knit sweater ber wore daily exceeded the size of a typical hand-me-down. The shoulders draped off of his, the arms covered his hands, but Maxwell wore that sweater everyday, like a comfortable pair of old shoes that had out lived their appearance - or, out of necessity.
Yet, there he sat, just feet from the teachers desk, eyes brighter than his apparent struggles would suggest. When a question was posed, his hand waved with the typical energy of a ten-year-old and the enthusiasm of one who knew the answer.
Maxwell always knew the answer. His hand often waved with an answer before I posed a question. He needed both the attention and the stimulus of learning. He needed a space where his intelligence could shine.
Maxwell, never caused a problem. He never broke the rules, never used his laptop other than for his work. Maxwell's only shortcoming was dominating the class, he dominated it with enthusiasm, his smile and bright eyes, and a willingness to engage and answer questions.
I met Maxwell at a school where a bevy of little first grade girls surrounded me during yard duty; each little girl was desperate for attention. One little girl planted a Post-It Note on my top. She had drawn a heart and the word Bestie. Her note has a permanent place on my prayer wall where I often pray that she, Maxwell, their classmates and families are doing well.
I specifically requested a 4th grade classroom. I wanted to see if I could turn a classroom around in the 2000s the way I was able to do in the 1980s. Times had changed. Mass incarceration had upended the lives of millions of children leaving dysfunction that has impacted classrooms across the country. The principal warned me that "These children are traumatizing my teachers." I noted her choice of words.
Within days I knew the answer to my question was yes. The same techniques I used in the 1980s when the first for-profit detention facility was being built, were showing their effectiveness by day two in 2023. By day three, however, it was obvious throughout the school that remedial efforts were needed not just in my classroom but in classrooms I'd never see.
From that experience the Center for Relational Healing emerged. A place where teachers, administrators, law enforement, judges and others can learn about the impact of trauma on childfen, on learning, on disruptive and violent behavior.
We can lobby for more money for schools and higher pay for teachers, but until we start addressing the trauma that has blanketed entire communities, we will never see our children, schools, and neighborhoods thrive.