I met Albert before the school year started. I was moving some things into my office and I saw him shooting hoops by himself on our playground. He approached me and asked if I was the new assistant principal. I introduced myself and shook his hand. He then asked if I would play HORSE. I thought about the long list of things I had to get done and how far behind I was already, but I quickly decided that HORSE with a student trumped everything on that list. While playing basketball, he asked me several questions and literally spoke for 20 minutes straight without taking a breath. He was funny, interesting, and seemed very intelligent. When we finished playing, he thanked me for spending the time with him and he walked home. I went back in the building and started to tackle the many items that were on my long list of things to do. A few weeks later we had some back to school IEP meetings. One of them was for a student named Albert. I pulled the file so that I would be prepared for the meeting. To my surprise, this was the same Albert that I played basketball with a few weeks prior. He had a list of a dozen school suspensions, at least six DSM diagnosis listed, and was assigned to the self-contained classroom for 85% of the day. Something did not add up. The parents did not show up for the meeting but gave permission to conduct the meeting in their absence. This was the first IEP that I had ever attended where there was not one positive word spoken about this student. Even when they asked for any strengths, nobody around the table could share any. I spoke up and said that based on my 20 minute encounter with him I felt he had several strengths: a good outside jump shot, excellent communication skills, an inquisitive nature, and a big smile. I looked around the table and everyone stared at me like I was either crazy or talking about another student. The school year started with a bang. Albert became upset in class and ran down the hall and straight out of the building towards his home. I managed to catch-up to him before he crossed a major street and I convinced him to walk back to the school and into my office. Albert was crying and obviously frustrated. He said that everyone in the school was mean to him and that they all thought he was a bad kid. In my head, I thought that he was exactly right—certainly based on the IEP meeting participants. We had a nice talk and Albert seemed to calm down. I asked if he would like to join me outside for a game of HORSE. He gave me a strange look, but then said, “Are you sure?” I told him definitely and he enthusiastically agreed to play. Once we were outside, Albert asked if he was going to be suspended. I told him that we would forget about this one, but that if there was a next one, he would be sent home. We discussed some better choices for next time, as running out of the room and building was a real safety issue. I stressed that I wanted him to be safe, because I liked him, cared about him, and did not want anything to happen to the school’s best basketball player. He smiled at me and asked if it would be okay if he could come to my office when he got upset, instead of running out of the building. I told him that was a great idea. We played basketball for a bit and decided that it was time to go back inside to prepare for lunch. Albert turned his head, looked me in the eyes and said that this was the nicest thing that anyone at school had ever done for him. Albert kept to his word. There were several other times that he got upset and frustrated, but instead of running out of the building, he ran to my office, sat in a corner, and cooled off. Each time it would take a few minutes before he was ready to talk and process what happened. Albert never got suspended that year and staff regularly shared some positives about him. Amazing what one small act of kindness can do to help a student be successful. Join us at the “Maslow Before Bloom” Facebook group; Facebook.com/groups/maslowbe…