The Need for Training in Emotional Intelligence

On August 31, the second day of the 1999–2000 school year, I walked into my sixth-grade woodwinds classroom and introduced myself to the class. After enduring six grueling years in pursuit of an undergraduate degree in music education, I was eager to utilize my newly earned skill set in molding young minds. I had recently been hired as a music teacher in a small, culturally diverse suburb just outside my hometown of Detroit. My schedule consisted of teaching middle school instrumental music in the mornings and high school vocal music in the afternoons.

As I began writing the day’s lesson on the board, two students started arguing and tussling in the back of the classroom. I immediately sent them into the hallway to address the behavior.

“Gentlemen, what is the problem?” I asked the two Caucasian boys.

“Chucky told Dakota that I went ni$$er knockin’ last night!” Bart shouted, still trying to attack Chucky.

“Did NOT! I told her we SHOULD go ni$$er knockin’! I ain’tsay we did!”

“Did TOO!”

“Did NOT!”

Bewilderment immediately ensued. As the students continued arguing, I stood frozen—mouth open, shocked and confounded—gazing into the distance like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching vehicle preparing to bring about its demise. I was completely triggered, mentally paralyzed between rage and confusion.

In my twenty-four years of growing up in a predominantly African American community and spending several years attending a Historically Black College and University (HBCU), my direct experiences with racism and discrimination had been minimal. Furthermore, nothing in my six years of undergraduate coursework, student teaching, or educational training had prepared me, a sheltered young African American male, to appropriately mediate a racially charged conflict involving adolescent students.

Thankfully, the assistant principal overheard the commotion and quickly intervened, sending both students to the office for disciplinary action. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. My perception of the district and community became immediately corrupted—forever tainted by the words and accusations of two students. In my mind, I had heard all I needed to hear. The school district and the surrounding city were filled with racist bigots, and I believed I needed to approach every interaction with suspicion and caution.

Twenty-six years later, after extensive professional experience and several educational leadership courses, I now view that moment through a much broader lens. In 1999, at twenty-four years old, I was unfamiliar with concepts such as self-awareness, implicit bias, and self-regulation. More importantly, I had neither the emotional maturity nor the professionalpreparation to process the situation objectively. I had no desire to empathize with those students, understand the environmental influences shaping their behavior, or build relationships with individuals whose views conflicted with my own.

Today, I recognize that self-awareness, implicit bias, and self-regulation are foundational components of emotional intelligence and are essential competencies for teachers, administrators, supervisors, politicians, and anyone whose success depends upon building and maintaining interpersonal relationships. These skills are particularly critical in education, where educators are tasked not only with teaching content, but also with managing emotions, navigating cultural differences, and creating environments where all students feel safe and valued.

Too often, society assumes these qualities naturally develop with age, maturity, or academic achievement. There is an expectation that by the time an individual graduates from high school—or certainly by the completion of an undergraduate degree—they should already know how to “handle themselves” in difficult situations. This assumption becomes even more pronounced in the field of education. One would reasonably expect aspiring teachers, individuals entrusted with shaping future generations, to receive extensive preparation in emotional intelligence and interpersonal development as part of their professional training.

However, that was not my experience.

Although my university coursework explored concepts such as Human Growth and Development, Tabula Rasa, B.F. Skinner’s behaviorism, Albert Bandura’s theory of self-efficacy, and numerous educational philosophers and theorists, there was little to no emphasis placed on emotional intelligence. No course required students to examine their own biases, emotional triggers, cultural assumptions, or methods of emotional regulation. No professor challenged us to critically reflect upon how our identities, experiences, and perceptions might influence our interactions with students and colleagues.

As a result, I entered the classroom academically prepared, but emotionally underdeveloped.

Had I possessed stronger self-awareness in that moment in 1999, I may have recognized how deeply the students’ words triggered my own emotions and assumptions. Had I understood implicit bias more thoroughly, I might have avoided generalizing the behavior of two adolescents to an entire community. Had I developed stronger self-regulation skills, I may have responded with greater professionalism and emotional control rather than internalizing the incident as a personal attack.

This realization has profoundly influenced my philosophy as an educator and leader. I now understand that emotional intelligence is not supplemental to effective leadership—it is central to it. Educational leaders must be capable of managing their own emotions before they can effectively lead others. They must be willing to confront their own biases, engage in difficult conversations, and model empathy, patience, and reflection for both students and staff.

In today’s increasingly diverse educational landscape, technical expertise and content knowledge alone are insufficient. Teachers and administrators regularly encounter students from different racial, cultural, socioeconomic, and ideological backgrounds. Without intentional training in self-awareness, implicit bias, and self-regulation, educators risk allowing personal assumptions and emotional reactions to negatively influence decision-making, classroom management, and relationships with students.

Looking back, I no longer define that experience as simply an encounter with racism. Instead, I see it as a pivotal moment of personal and professional awakening—one that exposed weaknesses in both my preparation and my understanding of myself. What once felt like a traumatic encounter eventually became an opportunity for growth, reflection, and transformation.

Ironically, the students involved in that incident taught me one of the most important lessons of my educational career: before educators can effectively shape the minds of others, they must first understand and manage themselves.