In a composed, clear voice, I spoke out over the classroom chatter, “I’m feeling a bit frustrated because I’ve asked you several times to listen, so I’m going to turn around and take a few deep breaths to help me calm down.” I turned, placed my hands on my belly and took three deep, long breaths. I felt better and my face had relaxed. I turned around and all 52 children I had been addressing had quietened, observing me like a strange animal they had never seen before.
And they probably hadn’t seen it; a teacher putting themselves in a vulnerable position, acknowledging stress and role playing a strategy in the moment to bring themselves back to a reasonable, calm state of mind.
All too often teachers are encouraged to put their best face forward and bury the turbulent emotions or stressors of their job, plastering a disingenuous smile on their face as they put their ‘teacher hat’ on for the day. They bravely turn up for the job and (hopefully) find other outlets outside of school to let things go and recharge. But they may be missing out on rich, teachable moments.
We’ve all heard that ‘honesty is the best policy’, so why aren’t we integrating this into everyday lessons and experiences with our students? It’s sad to hear statements from some teachers to students such as:
“You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“This is just the way it is, so get on with it please.”
“I’m the teacher, that’s why.”
“Because I said so.”
Dismissive, overriding and devaluing. The easy thing to say when we look to manage our own emotions in the moment, but not necessarily helpful in the long run.
According to Maria Montessori’s research, children aged 6-12 years are developing their ‘Reasoning Mind’; they start formulating philosophical questions and hypotheses that want insight into how and why things work. If we are shutting them down, we need to ask ourselves why. Do we feel it’s a challenge to our authority or seniority? Are we taking it more personally than the child is intending it to be? Then we need to start asking ourselves, how can I respond to this question that best serves the child?
Take the example I mentioned at the start. The children were excited for the next lesson we were about to do, but we couldn’t start until I had given instructions. I couldn’t give instructions because the children were energetic and chatty. When I had turned back around after taking my deep breaths, I was honest with them. I said, “Thank you for quietening down. I know you’re excited, but it is hard to talk when you talk over me, and that can make me feel frustrated or upset. Who can tell me what I did when I started to feel that way?”
Hands went up, I chose the first I saw. “You turned around and took some deep breaths!”
Another hand waving around, I called on them. “You told us that you felt frustrated.”
“Yes,” I said. “I named my feelings and then told you what I needed to do to calm down again. It’s a strategy I use when I’m upset at home, too. I know that if I say or do something without calming down, I will regret it later. Who has experienced that before?”
This discussion with the kids lasted only a few minutes, but the impact was huge. I had been honest with the children then made a connection with them through that experience. After this, if I recognised that I needed a moment to regroup, I would use this strategy. The children not only respected my ritual, but also built respect for me and developed some empathy.
One day a few weeks later, a student – completely of their own volition – came over and told me they felt angry and just needed a minute to calm down, then took themselves away to a safe spot before coming back and explaining what was wrong. It was a beautiful moment of teacher reflection for me. I hope other teachers can experience this, too.
So why did this work so well? In my experience, sharing personal anecdotes of both positive and negative nature with the children brings you down to their metaphoric eye-level. They see you as not so different or dissimilar from themselves; human. This doesn’t mean you share everything – this is not about you and you’re still their teacher, not their best friend. If you’re unsure, come back to that question: how can I best serve the child?
It was a beautiful moment of teacher reflection for me.
Let’s look at another example. I was about to do a lesson in sprinting, and I told them that we needed to warm-up first. An inquisitive, “But why?” whined from the group. I ignored the tone because we do need to pick our battles! I smiled and said I’d explain as we warmed up, telling them honestly about how athletes warm up to reduce risk of injury. I told them a story about how I didn’t warm up properly before lifting weights at the gym and how I pulled a muscle in my neck which made it uncomfortable to sleep for a week! I ended the story saying how much stronger and faster I became when I did my warm-ups and how amazing that felt. Now, I will often see the children run ahead to the field and are warming up by themselves before a lesson.
Honesty serves the child, and in turn this serves the teacher. A deeper understanding and trust forms between the teacher and student, reducing the need for behaviour management and opening the door to a world of learning at a more meaningful level.
Comments