When Pausing Matters More Than Fixing
It was one of those cold, rainy December days that flips umbrellas inside out. Even with the weather working against us, a group of elementary student leaders arrived eager to spend the day learning and growing together. By the end of the session, one moment brought me right back to my younger self.
After we wrapped up, the room filled with the kind of energy that follows meaningful conversations. Students were giggling, teachers were smiling, and everyone was gathering for the familiar group photo. But one fifth grade student wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to slip away to the restroom, but her teacher gently redirected her back to the group.
As the class gathered around our mascot, THEO, she zipped her coat higher and higher over her face. When asked to unzip it, she dropped to the floor, curled into a ball, and refused to move. From the outside, it looked like defiance. Another delay. Another moment of noncompliance. But was it?
Her teacher was doing her best in a long and demanding day. This moment was not about blame. It was about understanding. I had overheard the interaction, and something about it tugged at an old memory. The feeling of being young and deeply self conscious. I walked over, knelt beside her so I was at eye level, and asked gently, “Can I help you?”
She stayed curled up, eyes squeezed shut, coat zipped tight. I told her softly, “I was hoping you would be in the picture. I want to remember you with this group.” After a long pause, she whispered, “I do not like pictures because I have a lazy eye.”
Everything shifted in that moment.
When Pausing Matters More Than Fixing
Our instinct in moments like this is to fix. To reassure. To rush past discomfort with phrases like “You are beautiful” or “It looks fine.” We mean well, but those responses can unintentionally dismiss the very real feelings sitting in front of us.
So instead, I said the words she truly needed: “That must be really hard.”
Nothing fancy. Nothing corrective. Just validation.
I shared something about myself. I told her that I have always been self conscious about my eyes and that for years I angled my face in photos because it felt safer. She slowly sat up and unzipped her coat. Connection replaced resistance.
Once she felt understood, I asked if she would be willing to be in the picture, but on her terms. “What if you turned your head just a little, the way that makes you feel more comfortable? I would really love to remember you.” She agreed and joined the group.
This moment was never about a picture. It was about what happens when we pause instead of push. When we listen instead of fix. When we recognize that behavior is often a shield protecting something tender underneath.
The Power in the Pause
Pausing creates space between our emotions and our actions. It allows us to respond with intention instead of reacting on impulse. The PAUSE model helps students and adults do exactly that.
Pause — Take a moment and observe or listen.
Ask — Ask questions that help you understand what is underneath.
Understand — See the moment through their eyes.
Support — Offer comfort, presence, or guidance.
Empathize — Experience compassion for what they are carrying.
These small shifts change everything. They strengthen relationships, build trust, and create safer spaces for students to show up as themselves.
