There was a period when I became increasingly aware that several students in my classes used they/them pronouns.
At first, I struggled.
Not because I objected to it, but because my language habits were deeply automatic. I would use the wrong pronoun, correct myself mid-sentence, mentally rehearse names and pronouns before class, and sometimes still make mistakes. I remember feeling frustrated with myself because I genuinely wanted to get it right.
One day after class, a student quietly thanked me.
What struck me most was not the gratitude itself, but what the student actually thanked me for. They did not thank me for being perfect. They thanked me for trying.
That moment stayed with me because it fundamentally shifted the way I thought about respect in schools.
Educational conversations about equity often focus on systems, policies, curricula, and institutional initiatives. Those conversations matter enormously. But I have increasingly come to believe that students also experience equity through much smaller daily interactions: the tone adults use when speaking to them, whether their names are pronounced correctly, whether their identities are acknowledged without resistance, and whether classrooms feel emotionally safe enough for them to exist authentically.
Sometimes belonging is communicated through moments that appear almost invisible to everyone except the student experiencing them.
For many students, particularly LGBTQ+ students, school can involve a constant process of evaluating safety. They may be assessing whether teachers will respect their identity, whether peers will mock them, or whether correcting adults will create awkwardness, frustration, or dismissal. Even small moments can therefore carry disproportionate emotional significance because students are not simply interpreting isolated interactions. They are interpreting signals about whether they are fully welcome within the space.
Research on school belonging consistently demonstrates that students’ sense of acceptance and psychological safety strongly influences wellbeing, engagement, and academic outcomes (Allen et al., 2018). Importantly, belonging is rarely built through a single large initiative alone. It is constructed gradually through repeated interpersonal experiences that communicate recognition, respect, and safety.
What I began to understand more clearly is that there is a profound difference between making mistakes and refusing to try.
Teachers are human. Language habits take time to change. Mistakes will happen. But students often recognize the difference between an adult who slips up while making a genuine effort and an adult who communicates that a student’s identity is inconvenient, debatable, or unworthy of attention. Intentionality matters.
I also became increasingly aware of the emotional labor students often carry in these situations.
Correcting adults repeatedly can be exhausting. Many students have likely experienced moments where they were ignored, questioned, or forced into uncomfortable explanations about their identity. When adults consistently demonstrate effort without requiring students to constantly advocate for themselves, it can reduce some of that burden. Small acts of attentiveness can communicate that students do not need to fight to be recognized within the classroom community.
This experience also reshaped how I think about modeling respect within classrooms.
Students observe how adults respond to mistakes. They observe whether teachers become defensive, dismissive, embarrassed, or open to correction. When teachers calmly correct themselves and move forward respectfully, they help normalize a classroom culture where growth, accountability, and dignity coexist. In many ways, students learn as much from how adults handle imperfection as from whether adults avoid mistakes entirely.
Importantly, this work is not about performative perfection.
It is about cultivating classrooms where students feel seen, acknowledged, and safe enough to participate fully as themselves. Respect is not simply a statement written within a policy document. It is a daily practice embedded within language, interactions, routines, and relationships.
What I remember most from that interaction after class is the realization that students are often paying close attention to effort. They notice when adults are trying to create spaces where they belong.
Students may not always remember whether adults were flawless. But they often remember whether adults genuinely tried.
References
Allen, K. A., Kern, M. L., Vella-Brodrick, D., Hattie, J., & Waters, L. (2018). What schools need to know about fostering school belonging: A meta-analysis. Educational Psychology Review, 30(1), 1–34. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10648-016-9389-8





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