A rotten end to a rotten week

...but learning a lesson still marks progress

Welcome to How to be a Teacher. Every week, I share the expertise of my colleagues and reveal what I’ve learned recently from their 70+ years of experience.

This week, though, I’m looking back on what has been a rubbish week in some ways. I’ve made some mistakes, I’m reflecting on them and I’m going to learn something. If you’ve done anything similar, I hope there’s a lesson here for you, too.

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This has not been a good week.

The student in my class who gave me the most apprehension at the start of the year has been excellent from the offset. But, on Thursday, they presented me with a huge challenge. Biggest one of the year. I said a lot of the right things and Friday showed incredible recovery from us both, but I still don’t think I handled it as well as I could have.

Then, on Friday, a second student (who we’ll call Pip for their bravery, after one of Dickens’ toughest characters) experienced their hardest school day yet.

Pip joined halfway through the year and faces challenges beyond anything the other students in my class have to deal with. Despite their difficulties, Pip has grown brilliantly this year and has come to thoroughly enjoy a lot of the academic work we’re doing. They’ve found their tribe and impressed me with their ability to make friends.

I’ve written about Pip before and the excruciating entrance they made on their first day (and how the world’s most amazing TA saved the day).

So, to come from that day to where we are is excellent work from Pip.

This week, though, they’ve faced ostracisation by a couple of students who have had a talking to from me. Their disagreements have repeatedly reared their ugly heads, and it’s taken a lot of my time this week sitting them down to resolve their issues. Pip even reported being hit one day - not acceptable.

But then Pip went and hit someone on Friday morning.

This really disappointed me - after complaining about it happening to them this week, they’ve gone and done it to someone else.

Pip repeated this on someone else at lunchtime.

By now, I felt really let down. How can you not see that this isn’t on, Pip? How can you think it’s ok to do something that you’ve been complaining about all week?

I investigated and found that, according to others, nothing had brought this behaviour on than the fact Pip was losing a game they were playing.

Pip ate lunch separated from their friends so I could speak to them and impress upon them that hitting is not ok, whatever the situation (this was the only chance I really had to do this). We can alter games to help them participate but bending the rules so they can win? That’s hardly fair, and Pip needs to learn.

Then, after lunch, total reluctance to engage - or even speak - in PE.

Once again, I went to remind them of our expectations. I tried to reassure them that I considered the playtime matters settled and that they now needed to accept what had happened and move on. I expected them to return to how they normally are, despite what had gone on earlier - and they were letting me down.

Then they spoke at last.

“It’s something else I’m upset about.”

And then they cried.

Oh, Mr Watson, you’ve got it wrong. You’ve got it so, so wrong.

Pip revealed that his mum is “poorly” (that’s Northern English for unwell) and they’re worried about her. (I’d like to reassure everyone that she is presently ok).

I felt absolutely rotten. I felt mean. I felt thoughtless and totally devoid of understanding and compassion to a tough little cookie who was feeling unusually fragile.

So we forgot all about what he’d done, came away from PE and had a little doodle together. Anything to reduce the sorrow Pip was feeling. Anything to release them from expectation and give them space to breathe.

Pip wasn’t hitting because they thought it was ok to do so.

Pip wasn’t hitting because they thought it would help them win.

Pip was hitting because they were hurting.

I failed to see that and it made me feel utterly terrible for letting slip.

So, how do you make sure you don’t fall foul of the same demands of compassion laid on us teachers?

1. Don’t let behaviour incidents compound. By the PE lesson, my frustration was at a high because of what had built up. I was letting every issue and every behaviour make the next one seem worse. Once an incident is dealt with, move on and pretend it never happened. Clean slate.

2. Ask the important question. Once you treat every incident in isolation, it becomes much easier to start each problem with the only question that matters - “are you ok?” If a child has misbehaved by choice, asking this will still help you reveal that - we’re not being delicate for the sake of it and missing out on necessary consequences as a result. But, had stopped to ask what was wrong and fought to look at it from that angle, Pip’s anxieties would have been revealed to me much earlier.

You don’t want to feel like I did when Pip broke down. And you have probably been there before - I bet every teacher has. It’s the worst, feeling like you’ve let someone down who needed you most.

Don’t compound incidents and always ask if they’re ok.

This has not been a good week.

But I’m going to learn from it and make sure the next one is better.

Wish me luck.

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