It’s hard being on this side of the desk.

My heart sank as I heard the t-ball coach’s voice getting louder and more annoyed. I was afraid to look over at the dugout and see who he was addressing. I was afraid I already knew.

“Little J, didn’t we talk about this last week? You need to keep your HANDS. TO. YOURSELF!”

My mind immediately flashed to the checklist I use in my “real” job when I am asked to evaluate teachers in my district. One of the items on the checklist is “disciplines students in a private, positive, and appropriate manner”.

“FAIL!!” my mind screamed.

Little J was not hurting anyone. He and another boy he has gotten friendly with were horsing around. This particular coach has no patience with that and, having caught Little J last week, now keeps a closer than close eye on him when he is in the dugout.

I found myself giving the coach the hairy eyeball for the next few minutes. “He should have taken Little J to the side,” I thought to myself. Little J is very sensitive to criticism, especially when it is in front of a group. His behavior in school last year was exemplary and he was particularly proud of that fact.

I fought the urge to say something to the coach as I remember what I used to think of those parents when I was the one disciplining the kids but my heart ached for Little J and I hoped he wouldn’t cry. Plus, I reminded myself, this guy isn’t a trained educator. He’s a Park and Rec employee. I’m sure he hasn’t sat through numerous classes on positive reinforcement and creative discipline.

“Little J, put on a helmet. You’re up!” the coach barked. I strained to catch Little J’s eye so that I could give him a thumbs up and a little encouragement after this man had crushed his spirit. I didn’t manage to get his attention as he was busy saying something to the coach.

“Oh, it’s okay kiddo,” the coach responded. “But thanks for apologizing.” Little J happily proceeded up to bat and slammed the ball past second base.

Damn, I thought. Maybe this guy knows what he’s doing after all.

Just to be sure, I asked Little J on the way home “You still like T-ball, buddy?”
“I love it,” he replied.