I recently watched the evening news with an elderly woman, and, not surprisingly, there was a variety of bad news, including several stories about crimes committed by teens. She turned to me with a look of sadness, confusion, and genuine curiosity and asked, “Are there any good kids left in the world?”

I replied without hesitation, “Oh, yes! I wish you could see the kids that I spend time with every day at school!” I am with kids who open the door for you, who ask if they can help you carry things, and who say please and thank you. I am with kids who want to start fundraisers for victims of tragedies, who tell me they want to sit with a girl in the lunchroom who sits by herself every day, and who cheer on peers who are different from them. I spend time with kids who have experienced personal tragedy on an unimaginable scale for their age, through no fault of their own, and I see these kids try to keep it together, “do school” and make good choices while they hurt so much.

It’s plain to see on social media that people have a lot of opinions about the problems with kids and schools these days, with less being said about real solutions because solutions are so much more difficult to identify. It seems like people want solutions that are big, like comprehensive programs administered by “someone” to “fix” the problems, but it’s clear there are not enough resources and no simplistic methods to address the massive amount of varying needs.

One way we can help kids is to be more conscientious models for them. Given what we know about child development, it seems fair to say that kids reflect in actions and words what is modeled for them consistently. I have a one-year-old grandson who reminds me that children learn and reflect what they see and hear most. Stick your tongue out, and he sticks his tongue out. Shrug your shoulders, and he imitates. Our kids see us. They hear us. They see and hear us individually and collectively. They don’t just see and hear us in person; they see us and hear us in our social media. They take on our attitudes as we speak to each other about the world and people around us. We want kids to be kind.

Do adults spend enough time working on being kind? I have to ask because, frankly, there is a terrible lot of unkind conversation both in person and on social media among the adults that seems similar to what the kids reflect.

Another way we can help kids is to get involved in helping them in simple ways. I have this wonder… I wonder if 100 or 500 or 1,000 people reading this decided to add up the number of minutes they spend scrolling, watching videos, sharing memes, reading news stories, shopping, and commenting online, and commit at least that much time to getting involved with a child in a meaningful way or in a school or both. Could you tutor a child in math or reading? Could you listen to a struggling reader and gently encourage them?

Could you lend an extra pair of hands in an art, choir, or band class, which often has large numbers of students and only one adult? Could you be a volunteer on a ski or mountain biking club trip? Yes, you would have to make time to complete the process to become an approved volunteer (we can’t have complete strangers working with kids), but it’s doable if you are committed to being part of the solution. How many kids could be helped if we believed in and acted on the power of one to make a difference?

If you are discouraged about the state of youth in our nation and aren’t ready to volunteer, perhaps you could attend a local high school play or a choir or band concert where you could be reminded that our children are pretty darn creative, resilient, and determined considering the state of the world into which they have been born.

Our kids didn’t create the things that are most damaging to them right now like the iPhone, the apps, or artificial intelligence. Our society has now had over 15 years of unaccountable platform and app development targeted at kids. Yet they are tasked with navigating all of this on their way to adulthood.

In his recent popular book, “The Anxious Generation,” Jonathan Haidt refers to social media as “the largest uncontrolled experiment humanity has ever performed on its children.” Our kids don’t need us to talk about them. They don’t need our scorn, lectures, and judgement. They need our involvement. They need our support, help, and encouragement and that often takes place one child, one conversation at a time.

Jennifer Nipper is the principal of Rifle Middle School. She lives in New Castle.