You're not perfect and you shouldn't pretend to be, especially with kids. You shouldn't try to trick your students into believing you're infallible. Instead, when you make a blunder — and you'll make plenty — learn to apologize and even make restitution when appropriate. Kids will appreciate your honesty and will use you as a role model, someone who exhibits humility after making a mistake.

For example, consider a situation where your students are working on a complicated assignment involving polynomials. One student raises her hand and asks if she may wash her hands at the sink. You're sitting at your desk with four students, giving them intensive tutoring so they can complete the assignment. You blurt, “Sure” to the student with her hand up, then immediately resume explaining polynomials to your tutees. Unnoticed by you, the student takes two full minutes to finish eating a cookie before going to the sink.

As she advances you look up, alarmed — having completely forgotten her earlier request because of your intense tutoring session and the elapse of two minutes. You demand, “Why are you out of your seat? You know you have to raise your hand first!”

She and the kids stare at you in evident disbelief. The girl says nervously, “But I raised my hand and asked. You told me, ‘Yes.’” Several other kids murmur in agreement.

Suddenly you remember. “Ohhh,” you whisper. Tears trickle down the girl's cheeks and her whole body trembles. This is a moment of truth for you: Do you blame everything on the girl or do the right thing and apologize? The class awaits your next move; they want to see if you're like so many other adults — someone who always has to be right even when you're clearly wrong.

At this point you could disappoint your kids by falling back on an old standby used by many grownups — the nonapology apology. This tactic implies the person you've offended is too sensitive. “C'mon, Linda,” you say impatiently, “I'm sorry you're taking this so hard. Go wash your hands.” You can hear the collective sigh of disappointment as your class realizes you've failed an important ethical test.

Instead, offer a real apology. You don't have to prostrate yourself on the floor, but you do have to say, “Oops. I'm sorry, Linda. My mistake. I was helping kids and I just forgot. Go ahead.” Your class goes back to work, smiling and nodding, secure in the knowledge that they've got a real human being for a teacher, not a hypocritical would-be paragon.

The other important component of apologizing is making restitution where appropriate. Restitution means that you restore a person to “wholeness” you earlier damaged in some way. For example, one day a student who's left his yearbook in the lunchroom asks if he can quickly go back and retrieve it. Without thinking you say, “No, we've got work to do.” After class, he runs to the lunchroom and sure enough, the yearbook has been stolen — thanks to your obtuseness. When you learn of this, you call his parents and offer to make restitution; that is, to pay for a new yearbook. The student and his parents are so impressed with your gesture they either allow you to pay half or forgive you altogether. Mission accomplished, as far as showing kids that real adults apologize and make restitution when they're in the wrong.