The Hierarchy of Needs: On Student Attendance
Sometimes it takes adults who simply care, who notice when a child is struggling and are willing to take responsibility, to make a lasting difference
On most mornings, the hallways of Comp Sci High fill quickly, footsteps, loud laughters, the slamming of lockers cloning. But a few years ago, one student rarely walked through the door at all. But a few years ago, one student rarely walked through the door at all. Teachers noticed. Instead of writing him off as “unmotivated,” they did something else; they coordinated a schedule, taking turns going to his house each morning to walk with him to school. Not because it was required. Because they understood that sometimes school has to be more than school. They understood that sometimes, showing up for a student could mean the difference between hope and despair.
Renowned social theorist Abraham Maslow once coined the term ‘Hierarchy of Needs,” in which he stated that people needed certain qualities met in order to achieve self actualization, which is the full potential of one to become the best version of themselves. He stated that people need comfort and community in order to reach their fullest potential. Most people find such comfort at home, but what if they don’t? What if home feels unsafe, chaotic, or empty? For so many students, the walls of a school are the only place they can breathe.
Stories like the one above aren't unusual. Across the country, and right here in our school, schools have quietly become a second home for students who rely on them for stability, comfort, and care that they may not consistently receive at home. At Comp Sci High, this reality shows up in small everyday moments: a student going to the PSL office during lunch because that's where they feel comfortable; a teacher keeping snacks in their bottom draw just in case a student is hungry; a coach who becomes the closest thing to a steady adult in someone life. It is in these small acts of care that students find the stretch to face another day.
Ms. Agrawal observed that schools often serve as emotional anchors for students whose lives outside the building are unpredictable. It was clear from her experiences that, for some students, school is the one place where they know what to expect and where someone notices if they’re absent. She implied that when students feel safe and supported, academic growth naturally follows, students cannot focus on grades if they are worried about the chaos in their personal lives. Her work suggested that part of the educator’s role is simply to meet students where they are, providing stability and care so they can begin to learn. She understood that noticing, simply noticing, could change the trajectory of a young life.
This is also something that teachers like Mr. Mosley have lived out personally. Years ago, when alumnus Troy Peterson refused to come to school simply because he “didn’t feel like it,” Mosley didn’t scold him. He drove to Troy’s house, knocked on his door, and brought him to school himself. One ride, one gesture, the kind that sticks with a kid years later. It wasn’t about rules or grades; it was about letting a student know someone believed he mattered. At the same time, another student, Anthony, was facing instability at home. Mr. Noah and Director Gonzalez, the former Director of Culture, recognized that his home life was unsafe and chaotic. They stepped in and eventually won co-custody, providing the stability and care that Anthony desperately needed. Their actions show that sometimes it takes adults who simply care, who notice when a child is struggling and are willing to take responsibility, to make a lasting difference. Their love and commitment reshaped his world.
Maslow's "Hierarchy of Needs” helps explain why these moments matter. According to the social theorist, people must have basic needs like safety, food, stability, and a sense of belonging met before they can even begin to reach their potential. Many students meet these needs at home. But many don’t. For them, school becomes the only environment where they can reliably find structure and emotional support. Without these anchors, some students drift; with them, they find strength, courage, and a glimpse of hope.
This has a real impact. Research from the National Center for Education Statistics shows that students who feel connected to adults in school attend more consistently, perform better academically, and exhibit fewer behavioral issues. Comp Sci High educators see this first hand. Attendance improves when students know someone will notice their absence. Motivation grows when a teacher checks in, not just on missing an assignment, but on how they’re actually doing. For some, a single caring adult becomes the difference between dropping out and graduating. For a student who feels invisible at home, that one adult at school can be the lifeline that keeps them moving forward.
To be honest, I know this need firsthand. At home, I was constantly responsible for my siblings, walking them to school, making sure they were fed, entertained, and safe. Every moment required attention and care. Coming to school was not just a break; it kept me from staying home, from being stuck in the constant responsibility and stress. At last, in school, that weight lifted. I didn’t have to manage anyone else’s needs. I could just focus on myself, breathe, and be a student. That’s part of why I was so committed to coming every day,I knew this was the one place I could simply be me. It was a place where I felt seen, where I could laugh, struggle, and succeed without holding the world on my shoulders.
At the end, the heart of this story is not data, it is people. Students describe school as the place where someone finally listens. One student said he relied on lunchtime conversations with his counselor because “it was the only time of day [he] wasn’t stressed.” Many students quietly build their sense of home inside these walls. And teachers feel it too.
As one aspiring teacher, my sister Heaven Peterson, put it: “You’re not just teaching a subject. You’re teaching humans. Showing up for them is part of the job that no one really talks about.”
The community often imagines schools as academic spaces, but for countless students, school serves as something more structural; a place where needs are met consistently, where adults show up, where expectations are clear, and where comfort is. For students whose home lives are unstable or chaotic, school becomes their anchor.
I often think about how Troy, my sister Heaven, and I each needed someone at school even when we couldn’t say it out loud. For Troy, it was a teacher showing up at his door and refusing to give up on him. For Heaven, it was a few hours where she could finally set down the weight of responsibility she carried home. For me, it was a space where I could stop watching over my siblings and just be myself. What would have happened if the school hadn’t been there for any of us? The answer is hard to imagine, maybe Troy would have slipped through the cracks, maybe Heaven would never have felt even a moment of relief, maybe I would have lost myself in constant responsibility. School didn’t just teach us lessons from textbooks; it became a place that held us, believed in us, and reminded us that we mattered. It became a place where hope lived, even in the smallest gestures.
Of course, schools shouldn’t have to carry out this responsibility alone. The real issue stretches far beyond the buildings walls, inequality, financial distress, family stress, and limited access to mental health resources all play a role. But until society fills those gaps, educators continue doing what they’ve always done: stepping in with empathy, creating environments where students can breathe, grow, and learn. Before students can succeed in the classroom, they need a place where they feel safe and seen. For many, that place is school. That matters not just for their grades, but for their futures because when school becomes a home, even temporarily, it gives students something you can’t pay for: the potential to become the best version of themselves.