The September Yellow Flags Teachers Notice (That Parents Might Miss)

Some of the children I keep the closest eye on are the ones you’d never expect.

Every September, there are a few things I find myself quietly watching for.

Not the obvious things. If a child is really struggling academically, having frequent meltdowns, or finding it impossible to sit still, those things tend to get noticed pretty quickly.

It’s the quieter things I’m talking about.

The child who never asks for help.

The child who waits to see what everyone else is doing before getting started.

The child who reads beautifully but can’t tell me what they just read.

The child who would rather erase a hole through the paper than get an answer wrong.

After more than 20 years in elementary classrooms, I’ve learned that some of the most useful information about a child comes from these little moments.

And September is full of them.

I’m watching how children start a task. What they do when they don’t understand something. How they handle being wrong. Whether they ask for help. How they interact with other kids. What happens when something feels hard.

Sometimes I notice something and think:

Hmm. I’m going to keep an eye on that.

And that’s really what I mean by a yellow flag.

It doesn’t mean I think something is wrong with your child.

One behaviour, especially in September, rarely tells me much on its own. Kids are adjusting to a new teacher, new classmates, new expectations and new routines. Some are nervous. Some are tired. Some just need time.

What I’m looking for are patterns.

One moment rarely tells me much. A pattern might.

Here are some of the quieter things that tend to put a child on my radar.

At first, this child can look wonderfully independent.

They don’t interrupt. They don’t complain. They don’t put their hand up every five minutes.

But after a little while, I start watching what happens when that child actually doesn’t know what to do.

Do they sit there?

Skip the question?

Pretend they’re finished?

Some children would rather do almost anything than admit they don’t understand.

It could be shyness. Anxiety. Perfectionism. Low confidence. Or they simply may not know how to ask for help.

Whatever the reason, it’s something I want to understand.

Because independence is great.

Struggling silently isn’t the same thing as independence.

This is one I tend to notice pretty quickly.

I give an instruction, everyone starts moving...and one child immediately looks around the room.

What page did everyone open?

Where are they writing?

What did the person beside them take out?

Every child does this occasionally. Sometimes they were daydreaming. Sometimes they just want reassurance that they’re doing the right thing.

But when I see it happening consistently, I start to wonder:

Did they actually understand the direction?

Some children become incredibly good at using the other kids in the room as clues.

They can look like they’re following along when really they’re watching everyone else to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing.

That can happen for all sorts of reasons. Attention, working memory, language processing, difficulty following multi-step instructions, or simply needing information presented differently.

So instead of asking, “Do you understand?” (because almost every child will say yes!), I might quietly ask:

“Tell me what you’re going to do first.”

That little question can tell me much more.

This is a big one for me.

A child reads a passage aloud beautifully. They’re fluent. They know the words. They might even use great expression.

If you were listening from across the room, you’d probably think, Great reader.

Then I sit down beside them and ask:

“Why do you think the character did that?”

Or:

“Tell me what just happened.”

And suddenly, they can’t tell me.

This is something I wish more parents knew:

Being able to read the words and being able to understand what you’re reading are not the same thing.

There is so much more to reading than how a child sounds when they read aloud.

Comprehension depends on things like vocabulary, background knowledge and language comprehension, while actually reading the words on the page involves a different set of skills.

This is a much bigger conversation, and one we’re definitely going to have in a future issue of School, Decoded, because understanding how children actually learn to read can completely change the way you think about reading ability.

For now, here’s the thing I want you to remember:

Don’t just listen to how your child reads. Ask them about what they read.

Sometimes those two things tell very different stories.

They erase a word six times.

They become genuinely upset when an answer isn’t correct.

They don’t want to try unless they’re sure they’ll succeed.

They ask me over and over:

“Is this right?”

I’ve taught lots of kids like this.

At first, they can look like incredibly conscientious students. And sometimes they are.

But I start paying attention when that need to be right begins getting in the way of learning.

Because learning requires being willing to get things wrong.

A child who is afraid of mistakes might avoid challenging work, constantly look for reassurance, shut down, or become extremely frustrated when something doesn’t come easily.

At that point, I’m not particularly interested in whether their work is perfect.

I’m much more interested in how they handle struggle.

This one is very easy to misinterpret.

Everyone else has moved on and one child is still working.

It can be tempting to think:

They’re distracted.

They’re daydreaming.

They need to work faster.

But I’ve learned to get curious about why.

Did they understand the task?

Are they having trouble organizing their ideas?

Are they losing track of the steps?

Are they struggling to get their thoughts onto paper?

Do they simply need more time to process the information?

There are so many possible reasons.

“Slow” tells me what I’m seeing. It doesn’t tell me why it’s happening.

And the why is what matters.

This might be the one I wish more parents knew about.

They’re polite.

They’re quiet.

They follow the rules.

They don’t cause problems.

They might even be doing reasonably well academically.

And in a busy classroom, these can be the easiest children to assume are just...fine.

Over the years, I’ve learned to look for them.

Are they participating?

Do they have someone to talk to?

Will they take a risk?

Will they tell me when something is wrong?

Do they contribute their ideas?

Will they advocate for themselves?

Being quiet isn’t a problem. Some children are naturally reserved, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But sometimes compliance can hide struggle.

The child who isn’t demanding our attention may actually need some.

If you’ve ever thought:

“Her teacher says she’s wonderful at school, but the second she walks through our front door, she completely falls apart.”

I want you to know something.

Both things can be true.

School asks a lot of children.

They’re listening, transitioning, sharing space, managing friendships, following instructions, filtering distractions, solving problems and controlling impulses for hours.

Some kids use an enormous amount of energy holding everything together at school.

Then they get home, where they feel comfortable enough to let it all out.

That doesn’t automatically mean something is wrong at school.

But if those after-school meltdowns are intense, frequent or new, it’s worth mentioning to the teacher.

Because you know the child you see at home.

I know the child I’m seeing at school.

Sometimes neither of us has the whole picture until we put those two pieces together.

First, don’t panic.

If you read one of these and immediately thought, Oh my gosh. That’s my kid, it doesn’t mean your child has a learning disability, ADHD, anxiety, or anything else.

It means you’ve noticed something.

Get curious about it.

Watch for patterns.

And instead of the dreaded:

“How was school?”

Try asking something more specific:

“What was the hardest part of your day?”

“Was there anything today you didn’t understand?”

“What do you do when you need help?”

“Did anything feel frustrating today?”

You might be surprised by what you hear.

The goal isn’t to analyze every little thing your child does. It’s simply to pay attention when the same thing keeps showing up.

And if it does, that’s when it can be helpful to compare notes with the teacher.

September isn’t about figuring everything out.

It’s about getting to know your child.

We’re putting the pieces together.

Talk soon,

Susie

School, Decoded is an independent publication reflecting my own views and experiences as an educator. It is not affiliated with or endorsed by my employer or any school board.