An Invitation, Not a Requirement

I started working once a week at an elementary school, bringing mindfulness practice and Social-Emotional Learning into the afterschool program. One of the things I’ve found most important in this work is that participation is offered as a choice rather than a requirement. I want mindfulness to feel like an invitation — a meaningful way to spend time — rather than another thing the kids are being forced to do in a day already full of structure and demands. Otherwise, it can easily become something they reject simply because it isn’t theirs to choose.

So when I arrive at the school, I ask, “Who wants to come do mindfulness with me today?”

Some kids love it immediately. Others are completely uninterested. And that’s okay.

One such uninterested second grader — we’ll call him Devonte — was someone I felt especially drawn to from my very first day at the school. He was adorable, with a particularly compelling energy, and I found myself deeply wanting to connect with him and have him engage in the mindfulness and SEL activities.

For three weeks I invited him: “Hey Devonte, would you like to come do mindfulness with us today?”

And for three weeks, he barely made eye contact as he quickly and confidently replied: “No.”

This past week — my fourth week at the school — I asked again.

“Hey Devonte, would you like to come do mindfulness with us?”

“No,” he instinctively answered.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to keep asking just in case you ever change your mind. We’d love to have you.”

Another student, we’ll call her Bianca, and I walked over to the small tree-covered area where we usually gather. We began with a sensory grounding practice: noticing five things we could see, four things we could hear, three things we could feel, and two things we could smell. Then we closed our eyes and spent a minute focusing on a single sense in silence.

Afterward, I introduced the SEL activity for the day, which explored our inner voice — how it can sometimes be kind and encouraging, and other times harsh or discouraging. I read different phrases aloud, and the kids decided whether each phrase belonged to the “kind inner voice” tree or the “unkind inner voice” tree.

For example: “I can go at my own pace.” “I always mess up.”

If they landed at the unkind tree, they got to rework the phrase into something kinder and more supportive, like: “I can ask for help and try again.”

As Bianca and I were getting started, we noticed Devonte walking toward us with one of the teachers.

“He wants to try mindfulness today,” the teacher said.

“But only for one minute,” Devonte announced. “I’m only staying for 60 seconds. Set a timer!”

We convinced him to give us five minutes instead, since it might take a little longer than one minute to get a feel for it. The teacher set the timer and left us to it.

Within thirty seconds of the game, Devonte was completely hooked.

He was thoughtfully engaged, and genuinely excited to participate. His ability to rework the “unkind” inner voice statements into compassionate and realistic ones was incredibly skillful for a seven-year-old, and I found myself thoroughly impressed.

Toward the end of the game, one of the “kind inner voice” statements was: “I am open to learning new things.”

Bianca smiled and said, “Just like you today, Devonte — open to learning mindfulness.”

“Yeah!” he replied.

“And it even seems like you kind of liked it,” I observed.

“I didn’t kind of like it,” he corrected me. “I liked it a lot.”

At the end, he gave me a big hug and told me he was excited for mindfulness next week.

He even came up with an idea for a new game — “Mindfulness Ball” — which I can’t wait to hear more about and help him develop so we can eventually play it with other kids.

I left school that day with one of those rare and unmistakable feelings: This is what I’m here for.

Here at this school. Here in this life.

It felt like a casual but profound moment of rightness — because one more child now has a joyful and hopeful relationship with mindfulness, emotional conversation, and an awareness of what it means to be kind to himself on the inside.