“If a Bee Stings You, Give it a Flower”

Perspective:  Seeing life through the lens of a child. 

Recently, we were deep into the culminating lesson of our team handball unit. After several fundamental classes based on skills and lead-up games, we decided it would be fun to break our class into teams of three to play small-sided, competitive games. The students would have a chance to apply their well-rehearsed skills plus their new and existing knowledge of strategy to a competitive setting.  We, the teachers, would also have the opportunity to observe and reinforce gamesmanship and proper game etiquette. After all, once the scoreboard is turned on, sportsmanship can take on multiple personalities. Our numbers allowed us to have four games going on at once. Three of the four games were in cruise control. We witnessed shared responsibilities, movement from each player, strategic passes, integrity, and positive communication. They were a thing of beauty.

Our fourth game was equally poetic…or so we thought.

It is customary during the closing minutes of our classes to meet in the center of the gym as a group to process the day’s lesson. On this occasion, we asked the students to comment on their games, specifically, the participation, communication, gamesmanship, and integrity. Following several uplifting comments and compliments, one student raised her hand and stated that her team was NOT nice to her.

“When I dropped a pass, one of my teammates yelled at me. It’s not like I meant to miss the ball. It made me NOT want to play anymore.” Nearly in tears, it was apparent the girl was sincerely stung by the words of her teammate.

Anticipating a rebuttal from at least one of her teammates, there was nothing but silence. With the end of our time together quickly approaching, I was about to intervene when a hand shot up in the center of the group. Eager to share, the student exuded her familiar look of confidence and determination as she calmly waited to be called upon. It was a look that said, I know exactly how to remedy this situation.

I gladly called on Celeste.

My mom was recently trying to sell our house. She spent a lot of time getting the house in order so that people who were interested in buying the house would be impressed. She even baked cookies so the house would smell nice. A man and a woman came to look at our house. They were kind of obnoxious. They were saying things that didn’t make my mom happy. They didn’t seem to appreciate our house. When they left, my mom was really sad. She had worked so hard. So I just told my mom If a bee stings you, give it a flower! Maybe they had a bad day. Maybe they need us to be nice to them. Don’t let their mean words hurt you. Instead, maybe they need our kind words. We have a beautiful house, and it even smells like cookies.”

 With that, there was a brief silence in the gym. Thirty-nine other students and two teachers were in complete reflection mode. Celeste’s words were INDEED the perfect remedy for the situation. If a bee stings you, give it a flower.  So simple. So meaningful.

“How can we apply this to our situation?”

Without hesitation, Celeste responded. “That’s easy! You look the person who was being mean in the eye, and with a smile give them a friendly pat on the shoulder, then carry on. Go about your business. When people tell me I’m short, I just shrug my shoulders, give them a smile and go about my business.”

Often in life, we’re going to get stung by a bee. People are going to say or do mean things to us. How we respond to that bee sting is up to us. You can leave in the stinger, allowing it to fester and get infected, and over time, the pain will eventually lessen then go away. Or you could remove the stinger, apply ice, and understand the bee was simply trying to survive and protect itself or its family.

In any case, we should reflect not only on Celeste’s empathetic and compassionate statement, but the action she had poised behind those words.  As parents and teachers, we are constantly looking for the perfect, appropriate, and impacting lessons to impart on our kids. But maybe next time conflict arises, we should stop our words in their tracks and allow children to share their thoughts, flourishing in their own teachable moments.


Justin has been teaching physical education for 22 years.  He began his career teaching in Washington, DC before moving to Atlanta, Georgia to teach at Trinity School.  He is happily married and has three beautiful children who are constantly KEEPING HIM IN MOTION!

A Wish for the New Year

                  Wishing Tree – Chastain Park

Anyone who has known me since I was young knows that becoming a teacher was an oxymoron for me. As a child, my excitement for school pretty much ended the day I finally got to ride the big yellow bus for the first time in Kindergarten. My biggest gripes were: I had to get up early, I thought school was boring, and I hated being “stuck” in a room with fluorescent lights all day. All I really wanted to do was be outside or doing some form of art.  Because of this, I would often just sit at my seat, talk only when necessary, doodle, and look at the clock praying for the end of the day to come sooner than later.

Looking back and talking with my parents, I was often labeled as a kid that was hard to crack and not working to their ability. But, in actuality, I don’t think I was a hard kid to appease. The answer to helping me open up in school was actually very simple: Sit down, talk with me, and make a connection.  

My favorite teacher of all time, Mr. O., was a guru at this and continues to inspire and challenge me to try and work at his level of expertise. Mr. O. was my math teacher for three years. Not only did he teach his subject well, but he also took the time to make connections with all of his students.

During my sophomore year of high school I became sick. I was in the emergency room several times that year, at weekly doctor’s appointments, and was very scared. Mr. O. was the teacher who always asked how I was doing, told me that everything was going to be alright, and would talk to me when we didn’t know if things would be ok. This meant the world to me.

I wasn’t the only student that he took the time to make a connection with. I remember him sitting with kids before, during, and after class and talking to them. Oftentimes, past students would visit to say, “Hi,” or just to check in. He always had an open door and we knew we could talk to him about anything.

In 1999, when we got back from winter break, Mr. O did another activity that made everyone love going to class; he made a wish box for us. The wish box involved everyone writing down their hopes and wishes for the new year and for our lifetime. He told us that he was going to make a huge bonfire, burn the box in his backyard, and all of our dreams would float into the atmosphere. Everyone was in awe of this “math“  lesson, and I am positive that anyone he hadn’t made a connection with had one with him now. We all knew that Mr. O not only cared about us as students, but he cared about us as people too. This was such an exciting way to end my senior year of high school.

I still think about the wish box every new year and wonder if the things that came true were because of the box or if it was because I had a teacher who helped me believe in myself. I think it’s a little bit of both.

I don’t know where Mr. O is today, but I would like to thank him for teaching me what I believe to be one of life’s most important lessons; make a personal connection with those around you. So, to honor Mr. O., and teach by example, my class will be creating a wish box and my students’ hopes and dreams will float into the atmosphere like mine did 19 years ago. I hope this activity makes an impression on them, helps them work toward their goals, and assures them that their teachers care about their well-being and future.

Happy 2018 to everyone, and may all of your dreams come true!

Learner, Thinker, Writer:  Brooke Ovorus, 4th Grade Teacher

What is Your Purpose?

Noun: the reason for which something exists 

What is your purpose? What is preventing you from discovering your purpose?


Leadercast Women asked this very question to the hundreds in attendance. That is a pretty lofty question to impose on someone, isn’t it? I honestly can’t articulate my purpose on this Earth in a neatly written phrase…YET. I know that we are here for many reasons beyond our recognition and understanding. Purpose for ourselves, and purpose for others. 
So, that was the theme of the day, Powered By Purpose.
What are you even here for?
How have you gotten to the place where you are now?
Can you see a clear path, with direction for your future? 
As educators, we could say that our purpose is quite clear. Our purpose is to serve children, nurture their academic and character growth, and help them find THEIR purpose. But deep down, beyond our job, our purpose is bigger than that. Being able to articulate our purpose will help empower, drive, and inspire action. 


The gift that was given to me yesterday was a cold, gray stone. I have the responsibility of leaving no stone unturned until I am clear about my purpose and the journey that I’m taking during this time on Earth. I need to push away those roadblocks, turn over stones, and discover more about myself. 
As I reflect on the messages from the incredible speakers, I will continue to post my thoughts through their words and inspiration in the upcoming posts on my personal blog. You can follow along and hear their stories of purpose at LinkToLearning!
Molly Fletcher, Neeta Bhushan, Ginger Hardage, Laura Vanderkan, Shabnam Mogharabi, Mama Jan Smith, Dr. Bernice King, and Jenn Lim
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Learner, Thinker, Writer: Marsha Harris serves the Trinity School community as the Director of Curriculum.