Hugs

Recently, on Facebook, there was a bit of a discussion about staff at schools hugging children. It all seemed to revolve around school and district policy, rather than on the individuals own practice.

I’d just like to share my own experience in this matter.

Keep in mind that I started out with certain suppositions, that you might totally disagree with. I really never cared what the policy was about physical contact with students. My policy was my own, and seemed like common sense to me.

The first is, that the school world exists for the benefit of the kids, period. It doesn’t matter at all what the adult is feeling about a hug. It doesn’t matter if a kid is as cute as the dickens, and you feel an urge to hug the little fellah.

There are many kids out there for whom a hug from any adult is not a positive event. Imagine some young person who has been sexually exploited. Should you walk up and hug that kid? Should anybody? One unwelcome embrace of that nature more than counters a hundred neutral ones. There are more kids out there living that sort of life than we want to imagine.

Asking a kid if they want a hug doesn’t isn’t a solution. In the school setting, the adult has tremendous power over the student. They may not feel able to say no.

Thinking that a kid needs a hug shouldn’t act as permission to do so. Suppose that child is upset precisely because of sexual exploitation, and that the event started with a hug from the exploiter.

I am nothing like a Saint, but somehow managed to figure that out all on my own. Also, keep in mind that I like hugs, very much.

So decades ago, I resolved to avoid the possibility of harming a student in this way.

I taught kids in grades 8 through 12. With every new group, somehow I would slip in that I was not a hugging kind of person. I wouldn’t make it a big deal, maybe some wee mention of hugging, and a shudder. The kids would laugh, but get the idea. I was saying that I don’t like contact, and asking them to avoid touching me.

I was asking for my space, and clearly expecting this to be respected. This in itself is a powerful message.

Keeping with this clear statement, which would be reinforced occasionally throughout the year, I never attempted to initiate an embrace with a student, ever. I did not place my hands on their shoulders, or high-five them, or anything else. I would ignore accidental contact. Sometimes stuff happens.

The kids always accepted this. Other staff members would sometimes express their discomfort with getting hugged by students. For me, student-initiated hugs were incredibly rare; happening perhaps once every year or two. Some of my colleagues considered my method to be genius, and copied it. I never preached about it, but shared when appropriate.

Whenever I did receive a student hug, I didn’t make a big deal out of it, but did clearly express discomfort.

There was one other interesting side effect upon my relationships with students. Staff members would hear from students how I disliked physical contact. As a result, I became the least hugged person in the staff room. I never corrected this misunderstanding. Why would I? A single casual mention by a single staffer to a single student could have undone all of my non-contact groundwork.

As mentioned earlier, I did get touched sometimes, but would try and fend it off if I could. Every so often, I was surprised. Even then, the student would often apologize. I would never make them feel bad.

Now I am retired, and don’t have to worry about this sort of thing. I am not in a position of power over anybody. My years as a potentially damaging hugger are done.