It is a little known fact amongst teachers- to survive some students in your class, you may have to look very deep for something you like in them.

Since the day Mouse Linen entered my classroom, I have looked high and low for a sign of like-ability in him. It's been quite a search....
While I have written notes on the board, Mouse has entertained himself by jumping up and down in his chair, squeaking.
While I have demonstrated science experiments, Mouse has jumped out of his chair and spun around in circles for no apparent reason.
While I have led the class down the hall in lines, Mouse has walked in circles, all the while pretending his hands are little puppets and making them talk to one another in annoyingly high voices.

It was Merry Mel the other week who suggested Mouse be taken out of his group and instead placed by himself (as sort of a motivation/punishment). The point was to get him to want to sit with his peers, therefore forcing him to re-evaluate his behavior to win the priveledge back. Defying all logic, Mouse decided he likes his own little corner of the room, and since I moved him there, I was pleased that he had sort of fallen out of my stream of consciousness during the day.

This week, a new student arrived to R. Nixon Elementary. With him he brings over-emotional behavior, brat-ish tendancies, and a general lack of mathematical knowledge. To cope with this new student, I pulled him to my back table to work with him one-on-one with regrouping across zeros in subtraction. After about six problems, he grasped it.
"Pardon me, class," I announced, turning back to the class, smiling widely to show this new student how proud I was of him. "Everyone get ready to give some snaps!"
My class sat up with anticipation, ready to snap for who-ever this deserving individual was.
"After only about fifteen minutes of work, I'm proud to say that Unruly Ulrich here has gotten himself all caught up with our chapter in Math! He just understood his regrouping across zeros... and he's never done it before!"
My class is generous with their snaps. The snapped and snapped, and snapped some more. He beamed. I sent Ulrich back to his desk to work independently.
As I picked up my scratch paper, and dusted off the table, I glanced around at my students, smiling. They were all working hard, smiling for Ulrich. Everyone was on task.
That is, except for one.
'Mouse!!' I thought angrily.
He had his back turned to the class, facing the wall. I imagined a crayon in his hand, or worse.
I threw the paper into the recycling bin, and started over towards him.
'Damnit, it looks like he hasn't even touched his paper yet. I bet he's been messing around this whole time!!!!'
"Mouse!" I said bruskely. He jumped and turned towards me.
I froze. Down were streaming down Mouse's face. He looked up at me helplessly. I immediately knew what this must be about- someone must have hit him in recess again. He's small in size, and annoying- a poor mixture on the playground. He's like a walking punching bag.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
He was crying too hard to speak. I let him compose himself for a few moments.
"Listen," I whispered, down on his level. "Are you having problems with someone at recess?"
He shook his head.
"Did someone say something mean to you?"
He shook his head again.
"Oh," I said, thinking about a recent death his family had experienced. "Are you sad about something at home."
He surprised me, by shaking his head again.
"Well... why are you crying then?" I asked, truly confused.
"I'm crying," Mouse explained through gasps of breath, "because Ulrich already got how to regroup across zeros. He just got here today! I've been trying to regroup across zeros for a week now, and still can't get it right!"
I was shocked. "Why didn't you come talk to me about it?"
He wiped his eyes off, sniffed, and stared up at me with big mousy eyes. "I didn't want to upset you, Mr. Manson."

It was at that moment, that I realized a few things. A- Since Mouse's move, I hadn't spoken about behavior to him once. He had completely turned over a new leaf. B- His grades had gone up- not that I'd noticed good grades, but because I hadn't noticed bad ones. and C- I had never congratulated him on either feat- because I'd forgotten about him over in his corner, and was enjoying the silence.
I felt my insides melt. I had finally, realized just how much I like Mouse. I never saw it before- but he truly did want to be a good student. He also didn't want to upset me any longer. For the next fifteen minutes, Mouse and I sat at the back table working on regrouping across zeros. By the time he'd gotten it, I vowed never to forget about him in his corner again.

Yes, it's important for every teacher to find something to like about every one of their students.
It's just as important, however, to be persistent until they find that one thing.
You never know who may be brushed to the side, crying and unnoticed.