One of the best pieces of advice I was given when I started
my PGCE was this: “You are not their friend.” Unfortunately, like many student
teachers, I briefly fell into the “favourite teacher” trap. I like to think
that I have climbed out of it. However, an article I read in the TES appears to
be trying to direct teachers straight into the pit. (https://www.tes.com/news/school-news/breaking-views/being-a-nice-teacher-works-my-pupils-me-and-i-them-all-them)
I have three main issues with this article:
I am not a miracle
worker.
This
blog seems to perpetuate the damaging notion that if you are good enough at
managing behaviour in your classroom, the children will behave. Apparently, if
your seating plan is good enough, you can achieve silence and an entire
classroom of pupils who are on task. If you don’t have silence, that’s the
fault of your poor seating plan, isn’t it?
I
like to think that I have quite a formidable reputation at my school; I have
reached the point where my obsessions about uniform and pupils not being down my
wing during breaks mean that my mere presence causes children to roll down
their sleeves and move along. However, this has very little to do with my
booming voice or impressive 4 ft 11” stature. My school has a clear and firm
behaviour policy. I apply that behaviour policy calmly and consistently and the
pupils are aware of that.
I
tried to cultivate the same reputation at my previous school. However, the
complete lack of behaviour policy and emphasis on “managing behaviour within
the classroom” led to me feeling hoarse, ineffectual and eventually resorting
to bargaining with pupils to try and get some learning done. The result? Lots
of ‘computer time’, very little learning but (sometimes) a nice, quiet
classroom.
Having
a strong personality and good relationships with my classes certainly grease the wheels, but they are not the core of good behaviour. The ‘classroom by
classroom’ approach puts undue pressure and work on teachers, limits the effectiveness
of consequences and makes it unlikely that teachers will ask for support, for
fear of being judged.
Believing in consequences
does not make me a “robotic punisher”.
The author of this piece actually says that the “this ‘walk the talk’ approach is
nonsense”. After all, they don’t want to be a “robotic punisher”. It appears
that the second damaging notion in this article, very simply, is the idea that
giving out sanctions is bad and should be avoided wherever possible.
I completely
disagree. I do not enjoy giving warnings or isolating pupils. I make a huge
show of how disappointed I am if I have to isolate someone or set a detention. That
does not mean that these consequences should not exist or that I should remove
them once I have handed them out. In my eyes, the “nicest” thing I can do for
pupils is to be completely fair and make sure they are aware of my expectations.
Part of that is being clear with consequences. Once I have given a warning,
that is it; I do not shout, I do not “bark” and I do not “humiliate”. I simply
give the sanction, explain why I have done so and continue teaching. Consequences
are not about fear; they are about creating responsible adults.
As soon as
teachers start retracting sanctions or “threatening pupils with a detention”
only to let them “skip off into the distance” at the end of a lesson, they are
sending one very clear message: you may not have to take responsibility for
your actions; it depends on how well you can charm me at the end of the lesson.
In this situation, classroom expectations are ultimately uncertain and pupils
are much more likely to take advantage of this ambiguity.
Believing in consequences
does not mean that I don’t care about my pupils.
I work in a school with a “no excuses” behaviour policy.
According to this blog, my school should be uncaring “boot camp” and I should
be a drill sergeant who never listens to my pupils and continually barks
orders. There is the heavy implication in this article that my high
expectations of behaviour mean that I do not care about my children as human
beings.
This could not be further from the truth. I have
exceptionally high expectations of my pupils and I enforce these standards because I care about them. I want to
show my pupils that I know they are capable of working hard for 75 minutes. I
want to show my pupils that they can do the hard work required to be successful.
I want my pupils to grow up to be responsible and hard-working adults.
Unfortunately, this often means I have to be the bad guy.
Last year, I grabbed a handful of year 11s on their way out
of the door on a Friday afternoon for an after school session before their
final history exam. Needless to say, they were not happy. I saw behaviour which
was completely out of character for many of those pupils, ranging from fiddling
to raising their voices at me. I had taught most of those pupils since year 7
and I cared about them deeply. As a result, I reinforced my expectations and I
used the school’s policy. Having to do so tore me up and I spent a long time
after that lesson sat at my desk feeling like an ogre. However, the hugs I got
from those pupils when they got their results told me that 2 years of hard
graft and high expectations had been worth it, even if it felt awful at the
time.
The issue with the word “nice” is that it is exceptionally
difficult to define. This is probably the reason behind the giant “NICE IS
BANNED” synonym display which I remember from my year 4 classroom and which
probably adorns the walls of thousands of teachers across the country.
Therefore I agree with the title of this blog: being a nice teacher works.
However, to me “being nice” doesn’t mean being a pupil’s friend or “learning
partner”; it means wanting to create responsible adults who get good results,
even if that sometimes means looking like the bad guy.
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