Love Belongs in Education

Names have been changed to protect privacy

I remember when we were making our value statements at a school where I worked. About fifty of us were debating what would define us as an institution. I said, "Love. One of our value statements should be love — that we will give our students the love and attention we would give our own children.”

One teacher immediately pushed back. She said, "I don't know if I feel comfortable. I love my children, but I don't know if I want to say I love my students." There it was — the clear distinction many educators make. She continued, "I don't know if I feel comfortable working at a place that has love in their value statements." I looked at her and told her in front of everyone, "I don't know if I feel comfortable working in a place that doesn't."

She wasn't a bad teacher — in fact, she was an excellent teacher and a wonderful person. She stayed up late grading papers. She tutored students who needed extra help. The issue wasn't that she didn't care about students; it was that she drew a line between caring as part of her job and something she called "love."

And she’s not alone. Many great educators draw this line, keeping their professional lives separate from such a personally charged word. But to me, what she was doing — staying late, tutoring, going above and beyond — that was love in action, whether she called it that or not.

It can be boiled down to a simple inner check: Would I say or do this to my own children? Acting in love — whether through high expectations, individual support, or necessary boundaries — has always been at the core of my leadership philosophy. And it's time we stopped being afraid to name it for what it is.

What Does Love Even Mean in a School?

Let's be clear about something: when I talk about love in education, I'm not talking about some Hallmark card sentiment. I'm talking about agape love — the kind that drives genuine action and commitment to another person's well-being. This job is too difficult to do for any other reason than love!

Most students who are struggling in school aren't thinking about curriculum or standards. They're wondering if anyone in the building gives a damn about them as a human being. These students come to us carrying heavy burdens that we can't see. Until they know we care, they won't engage. Period.

I use love as my decision-making filter. When a situation gets complicated, I ask: "What's the most loving response right now?" Take a student jumping the fence to leave campus. The natural reaction is likely punishment — detention, suspension, calling security. But when love is your filter, you first ask why they're running. What are they running from? What are they running to? Sometimes the loving response still involves consequences, but the intention transforms from "I caught you breaking rules" to "I care enough to understand why you're trying to escape."

If we wouldn't want our own children treated a certain way, we shouldn't treat our students that way. If we'd fight for our own children to get services they need, we should fight for our students, too. That's what love looks like in education — treating each student with the care, high expectations, and fierce advocacy you'd give your own child.

Love Languages as a Leadership Tool

I first learned about Gary Chapman’s love languages books around 2008. The concept hit me as powerful one for schools right away. If each of us has love languages, what happens if those aren't being fulfilled? Then we may not feel seen or appreciated. What if I knew what my students' love languages are? What a hack!

There's an assessment for teens in the back of one of Chapman's books. I adapted and photocopied it, gave it to all my students, and compiled the data. Eventually I made the assessment a Google form. When I discovered a student's primary language was physical touch, I'd give them a high five or fist bump when they came to class. For words of affirmation, I'd write "Good job on this" on a post-it. For quality time, I'd make sure to have a minute to talk with them after class.

Ronnie was a great example. He had a purple mohawk and was a great football player. His father had been killed by a drunk driver just days before Christmas. Yet he showed up to school right after it happened. Every time he'd see me, he'd shake my hand and dab me up like five or six times. I realized his love language was physical touch. This tough-looking kid with a full beard needed that kind of connection.

I extended this approach to my staff too. For example, a teacher who took photos for our school needed acts of service — "Can you buy me a new flash so I can take senior portraits for students who can't afford them?" He'd come in every Saturday, and I'd give him what he needed — equipment, school keys, alarm codes — so he could help our students in his own way.

When I analyzed the data from our students, patterns emerged. About 70-80% of both our lowest and highest performing students needed quality time or words of affirmation. The love language itself wasn't predicting academic success, but it was critical for understanding how to connect.

When teachers understood their own language of appreciation, they became more interested in their students' love languages, too. A teacher who values quality time could recognize when a student was constantly asking questions — not as interruption, but as seeking connection.

Love Isn't a Luxury in Education

I've sat through too many conversations where love is treated as a luxury in education — something we get to after we've handled test scores, discipline, and curriculum. But my experience shows the opposite is true. When we put love at the center, everything else improves — attendance, behavior, academic performance, school culture. It's not just correlation; it's causation.

It's interesting — teachers will go home and tell their families, "I really love my students," but we resist putting that same word in our school values. We'll privately embrace love while publicly keeping it at arm's length. When you're faced with a million decisions as an educator, asking "What is the most loving thing I can do right now?" cuts through the noise. Whether it's with a struggling student, a frustrated teacher, or a concerned parent — this question provides clarity like nothing else.

When the answer isn’t in the principal manual, employee handbook, or in one of the countless memos or bulletins . . . when you're not sure what else to do, use love as your guide. Do the most loving thing you can for the person in front of you.

I meant what I said in that meeting years ago, and my experience has only strengthened my conviction: love in education isn't edubabble. It's the foundation that makes everything else possible. Schools that put love at the center don't just feel better — they perform better. That's why I've made love non-negotiable in my approach to education, and why I believe it truly belongs at the heart of every school.

Build a School Culture Founded on Love

As a leadership coach and consultant, I help education leaders create school cultures where love drives decision-making and improves outcomes. Whether you need a keynote speaker to inspire your staff, leadership coaching to strengthen your vision, or practical tools to implement love languages in your school, I can help.

Let's discuss how love-centered leadership can transform your school's culture, improve student outcomes, and energize your staff. Connect with me to discuss speaking engagements, leadership coaching, or school transformation consulting.