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There’s a phrase that has shaped the way I see school counseling: sitting in the dirt. Not fixing. Not rushing. Not trying to clean things up too quickly. Just sitting in the messy, hard, sometimes really painful parts of a student’s life so they don’t have to be there alone. Working in a PreK–5 building, I’ve learned quickly that kids carry more than we often realize. Big feelings. Big experiences. Situations they don’t fully understand and don’t always have the words to exp

This work is meaningful - but it’s also heavy. When you’re consistently "Sitting in the Dirt" with students, you carry pieces of their stories with you. You hear things that stay with you long after the school day ends. You sit in moments that are emotional, overwhelming, and sometimes heartbreaking. And if you’re not intentional, that weight can build. Self-care in this profession isn’t just a nice idea - it’s necessary. But I’ve also learned that self-care isn’t always what

Not every moment in school counseling is big or dramatic. In fact, most of them are small. And it’s easy to overlook them. A quick check-in in the hallway. A student stopping by just to say hi. Sitting quietly next to a student who isn’t ready to talk yet. Helping them take a breath and reset before heading back to class. On the surface, these moments might not seem significant. They’re not long sessions or major breakthroughs. They don’t always feel like the “important” part

We talk a lot about growth in education. Growth mindset. Academic growth. Emotional growth. But something I’ve been thinking about more lately is this: growth doesn’t happen when students feel rushed. It doesn’t happen when they feel pressured to “just get it” or to move on before they’re ready. It doesn’t happen when they feel misunderstood or unsupported. It happens when they feel safe. Working with younger students, I see this play out all the time. When a student is overw

Advocacy can sound like a big, formal word - something that happens in meetings, policies, or large-scale decisions. And while it can look like that, I’ve learned that advocacy often starts much smaller. It starts with seeing students clearly. Seeing beyond the behavior. Beyond the quick assumptions. Beyond the labels that can so easily stick. In a PreK–5 setting, it’s easy for students to be defined by what we see on the surface, “the disruptive one,” “the quiet one,” “the o

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this field is this: you don’t have to have all the answers to be a good counselor. And honestly, that can be a hard lesson to accept. There’s a pressure - especially early on - to feel like you should know exactly what to say in every situation. That you should be able to fix things, guide things, or provide the “right” response every time a student opens up to you. But the reality is, this work doesn’t always work that way. Students

It’s easy to label behavior. Disruptive. Defiant. Attention-seeking. Those words come quickly, especially in busy school settings where teachers are juggling a lot and need things to run smoothly. But the longer I do this work, the more I realize - behavior is almost always communication. Especially in a PreK–5 building, where students are still learning how to identify and express what they’re feeling. They don’t always have the words to say, “I’m overwhelmed,” or “I’m anxio

There are some parts of school counseling that don’t get talked about enough. For me, it’s the number of times I’ve had to call crisis. It’s not something you expect when you think about working in an elementary school. When people picture this role, they often think of small groups, classroom lessons, maybe helping students work through friendship issues. And while those things are absolutely part of the job, there’s another side that feels much heavier - and much more urgen