The Crucial Work of Teaching Kindness
“Why should I be the one to step in? It’s not my problem.” This is a sentiment I hear from kids more often than I’d like. It’s not because they don’t care—it’s because standing up for kindness, especially in front of peers, feels risky.
I remember feeling that same risk when I was a child, navigating the social dynamics of belonging. As both a parent and an educator, I’ve seen firsthand how challenging it can be to foster kindness and inclusivity. These are not easy lessons to teach. They require tough conversations, guiding kids through moments of failure, and showing up even when it feels like the lessons aren’t sticking. Yet this work is essential.
We are not teaching kids to be kind for kindness' sake. These lessons equip them with tools to build meaningful connections, navigate conflict with empathy, and take responsibility for their actions. This foundation is crucial for raising children who will grow into contributing, compassionate members of their communities—individuals who see the value in supporting others and creating spaces where everyone belongs.
Progress is often slow and uneven. Its impact doesn’t show up all at once. It unfolds gradually, in moments when a child notices someone sitting alone and invites them to join, or when they stand up for a friend, even though it feels hard.
Planting seeds of kindness takes time and trust. It requires us to believe in the possibility of change—not just for our children, but for the communities they will someday help shape.
The Kindness Workshops
Earlier this year, I led a series of workshops with our 5th graders designed to foster kindness and inclusivity within their classroom community. These workshops were born from patterns my teaching team and I had observed: children excluding others from groups, making cutting remarks, or overlooking how their actions impacted their peers. These weren’t isolated incidents. They reflected subtle but persistent dynamics that, if left unaddressed, could erode the sense of belonging every child deserves.
The workshops unfolded in two parts. On the first day, we focused on building a shared language for kindness and inclusivity. The students answered two questions: “What does it feel like to be respected?” and “What does it mean to own my words and actions?” Their responses shaped a set of ownership statements, including:
We are kind and inclusive.
We think before we speak or act.
We respect our teachers and classmates.
Our tone matters when we speak.
The second day was about practice. Using scenarios based on real-life situations, students acted out how unkind moments typically play out, then reimagined them with someone stepping up to create a kinder, more inclusive outcome.
This wasn’t easy for everyone. One student hesitated, admitting she didn’t want to risk being laughed at. Another boy, often hesitant to speak up, volunteered to take on the role of an up-stander. His effort wasn’t perfect, but it was heartfelt, and it showed his classmates the value of trying, even when it feels uncomfortable. These moments reflected courage and a willingness to grow.
Since the workshops, the ownership statements have taken on new life. During group activities, students now remind each other, “Our tone matters,” or pause to say, “Let me think before I speak.” These shifts may seem small, but they represent a growing awareness of their impact on others. Teachers, too, reinforce the lessons, using the statements as reference points to redirect behavior or encourage reflection.
The Role of Adults
While the workshops planted the seeds of kindness, their growth relies on consistent reinforcement—both in the classroom and at home.
As a teaching team, we strive to model these values in our interactions. We celebrate each other’s successes and own our mistakes, knowing that how we treat one another sets the tone for our students. At home, the process can feel more uncertain. I often wonder if the lessons I teach my own children about kindness are truly sinking in.
It is in the stories I hear from others that I see their growth. Recently, a parent shared how my son went out of his way to welcome a shy child at a birthday party, making sure they felt included. Another teacher told me my daughter invited classmates to collaborate on a creative writing project, encouraging their input and creating space for their ideas.
These moments remind me why this work matters. Acts of kindness are not just about making others feel good—they build the skills to create connection, belonging, and safety.
As a child of immigrants—and an immigrant myself more than once—I understand how unkindness shapes a person. When we moved to the United States, I spoke in heavily accented English and was teased by my classmates. The embarrassment made me hesitant to speak, and I resolved not to try again until I could perfect my pronunciation. Years later, in a high school English class, I mispronounced the word "governed." The class burst into laughter, and the sting of that moment lingers even now.
That experience not only shaped how I saw myself, but it also became a driving force behind my commitment to fostering environments where no child feels dismissed or unseen.
The Influence of Self-Protection and Social Acceptance
Teaching kindness is especially complex for students on the cusp of adolescence. As humans, we are wired for self-protection—a survival instinct that helps us navigate the world safely. For preteens, this instinct becomes intertwined with an equally powerful drive: the need for social acceptance.
The fear of standing out, of being perceived as different, can silence even the best intentions. Kindness often requires vulnerability, and for preteens, that vulnerability can feel risky—especially if it means challenging a group dynamic or stepping out of their comfort zone.
I saw this tension play out during and after the workshops. Students would enthusiastically agree in theory about the importance of being inclusive, yet hesitate when faced with real-life opportunities to practice it. A student might nod along in a discussion about standing up for someone who feels left out, but then stay quiet when a peer is excluded during recess.
This struggle is not a failure; it is part of their development. Children are navigating conflicting instincts—the desire to be kind and the need to protect their own social standing. Helping them see kindness as strength, not weakness, is one of our most important tasks.
A Call to Action
Teaching kindness and inclusivity requires patience, persistence, and the courage to have uncomfortable conversations. There are still moments when unkindness surfaces, but these moments are opportunities to reinforce the lessons. Kindness is a skill that requires practice, and every attempt, even imperfect, is a step forward.
How can you model kindness today? Offer a sincere apology, show patience, or simply acknowledge someone who feels unseen. Ask your children, “What does kindness look like to you?” or “How can we show someone they belong?” These small acts build the foundation of a kinder world.
The seeds we plant may take time to grow, but when they do, they will create something beautiful—a generation of adults who value connection, inclusion, and compassion.
