JumpStart National Get Over It Day (3/9/26)

QUOTE:  "Hate is too great a burden to bear.  It injures the hater more than it injures the hated." (Coretta Scott King)

MESSAGE:  Hate Is Loud. But It’s Not the Root.

Hate is one of the strongest words in our language. We say we “hate” grading, traffic, or meetings—but real hate is something deeper. It is an intense emotional rejection of a person, group, idea, or experience. It feels hot. Protective. Sometimes righteous. Often overwhelming.

It can be overwhelming for the receiver, too. The other night, my wife and I were both scrolling IG Reels (don’t judge), and one of the ones she landed on was spewing such hate that it interrupted my attention and drew me in - even for the 3 seconds before my wife swiped it away. I had to consciously disengage, and I found myself wondering what has caused this person to feel such animosity toward their fellow humans that they found it necessary to jump on social media and f-bomb several people in one rant.  And why are people drawn to watch and consume that?  To me, it’s like taking a drink straight from the muddy Mississippi.

The thing to remember is that hate is rarely the first emotion.

Hate (like anger) is usually a secondary emotion, born from fear, humiliation, shame, powerlessness, grief, or perceived injustice. When someone feels threatened in some kind of way (usually physically, socially, or psychologically) the brain shifts into protection mode and the amygdala activates, cortisol rises, and the nervous system prepares for defense. If that threat lingers or festers, anger can harden into resentment. Resentment, when rehearsed, can calcify into hate.
That’s why hate is so important to pay attention to.

Hate tells us that something feels deeply unsafe or violated. It signals a wound. In students, hate might mask embarrassment, exclusion, or insecurity. In adults, it might hide burnout, loss of control, or identity threat. When we respond only to the surface behavior, we miss the story underneath.

So what do we do when hate shows up in our schools?

When students or colleagues make hateful comments, the first move is regulation—not reaction. Breathe. Lower your voice. Slow your body. A regulated nervous system is the most powerful de-escalation tool we have. Then move from accusation to curiosity: “Help me understand what’s going on.” “What made that feel necessary to say?” This doesn’t excuse harm, but it interrupts escalation and invites reflection. Clear boundaries matter: “We don’t speak about people that way here.” Safety and dignity must be protected.

When you are on the receiving end of hate, the work is different. First, anchor yourself. Someone else’s dysregulation is not a definition of your worth. Separate the behavior from your identity. Then ask: Is this about me, or is this about their pain? If repair is possible, seek it. If it’s not, reinforce boundaries. Document when necessary, and lean into trusted colleagues for support.

Most importantly, resist becoming what hurt you.

Hate can be contagious. It spreads through gossip, sarcasm, group chats, and eye rolls. But so does steadiness. So does compassion, and so does courage.  The high road is the hard road, but it sure beats slogging the the mess of the low road.

In a profession built on relationships, paying attention to hate isn’t about tolerating it—it’s about transforming it.

​DAD JOKE:  What do you get when you put Grandma on speed dial?  Instagram.