At a school in London’s East End, just before the start of the pandemic, I approached a group of children in a corridor for a handshake.
In most British secondary schools, that would be unusual. When teenagers throng corridors and other communal spaces, many teachers feel intimidated and back away.
That ‘us and them’ attitude, prevalent in so many schools, goes against everything I believe in. I make it my business to demonstrate courtesy and politeness to all pupils. And, crucially, I expect no less from them.
Contempt
When I walked across with my hand outstretched, I greeted one of the girls by name. She looked me straight in the eye, then licked her palm from top to bottom and held it out to me, dripping in saliva. It was a display of naked contempt. And it wasn’t even personal. As a teacher, I was, in her eyes, the enemy.
We live in a society that has a real aversion to adult authority. For thousands of teachers across the country, this makes their job nigh-on impossible.
But there is a simple fix. Twenty-five years in teaching have convinced me that, when it comes to discipline in school, we simply need to teach children good manners.
Thankfully, violence against staff is not a daily occurrence even in the worst schools. But physical assaults do occur regularly — and they can be vicious.
I’ve been in many classrooms where the children wage a constant war of attrition.
They refuse to answer in more than mumbled monosyllables. Verbal aggression goes unpunished. Public areas become the domain of the toughest kids in the school, instead of being a safe place for all.
In too many schools, staff are abused, ignored and treated with contempt by the pupils. Teachers are often ill at ease and feel threatened.
Adults will not venture into public areas at break or lunchtimes — retreating instead to the relative safety of their classrooms. At some schools, even the headteacher is belittled and ignored.
Former headteacher Barry Smith is a co-founder of the Michaela Community School in London. Once called ‘Britain’s strictest headteacher’ he said: ‘I make it my business to demonstrate courtesy and politeness to all pupils’
Supply agencies refuse to send staff there, for fear of what they might face. Teachers look at the register, desperately hoping that key individuals will be late or absent, because their presence guarantees that any attempts to teach will be sabotaged.
Up and down the land they feel a palpable sense of dread on a school night, knowing they will be confronted by aggression in the classroom.
So — how do you survive in schools like this?
Some teachers lower their standards. They look away as ringleaders wreak havoc, or stare at their computer monitors rather than address the chaos around them.
In badly-run schools, where children bully adults and where teachers lack confidence in the headteacher, adults often feel isolated.
I have a different approach.
Restrictive
It is not difficult to teach children how to be respectful. I’ve done it all my professional life. I expect children in school to be as polite to the adults as we are to them.
And I actively teach teachers to demonstrate warmth, courtesy and confidence with every interaction.
Which is why I was disappointed, if not entirely surprised, when Ofsted inspectors earlier this month described some of the behaviour systems employed by one school where I have advised the head as ‘overly restrictive’ and even ‘oppressive’.
What rot. Let me make it clear to the education watchdog: good discipline transforms schools.
It’s not oppressive — it’s liberating. I know, because I’ve led such transformations numerous times. A vocal minority of parents who seem horrified at the concept of children being polite and following teachers’ instructions cannot be allowed to hold headteachers to ransom.
Adult authority is not ‘oppressive’. It doesn’t mean behaving like a martinet or a bully. Quite the opposite.
Despite headlines, I’m not a Sergeant Major type. In fact, I was lazy at my comprehensive school outside Newcastle, and I stayed off far too much.
I lacked self-discipline. Perhaps that’s why I understand disaffected kids.
I became a teacher at 29. I was a little bit older, more sceptical and more confident than many new teachers. I wasn’t prepared to be told what to do by 11-year-olds.
When working with headteachers now, I still focus on good manners first. I favour easy-to-remember acronyms: ‘Steps’ is one.
The first S stands for ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’, because that’s how children should address staff. T is for ‘Thank you’, E is ‘Excuse me’ and P is ‘Please’. Every child is taught the importance of these basic rules.
The final S is for ‘Smile’. I don’t want children to go around grinning, but it’s simply shorthand for the friendly body language, facial expressions and tone of voice we teach every child, in every lesson, every day.
We tell children exactly what we expect from them. Nothing is left to chance.
A second highly effective acronym is ‘Slant’: ‘Sit up (arms folded, nothing in your hands), Listen carefully, Ask and Answer questions, Never interrupt, and Track the teacher — that is, look at the teacher when they’re addressing the room.
The opposite of Slant is slouching across the desk, doodling, not listening, not joining in, calling out and ignoring the teacher. We can’t allow that. And what’s ‘oppressive’ about any of this?
When I became headteacher at the Charter Academy in Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, the school had been rated ‘inadequate’ by Ofsted for a decade. Two-thirds of children were leaving without basic passes in maths and English.
Within weeks, thanks to the support of an amazing team of staff, we had transformed the place. By the end of the year, the exam success rate had doubled, and it improved again the following year.
The key is not just to tell people the strict new rules —it’s to help teachers develop an outgoing, friendly manner.
As surprising as it may sound, teachers often find it difficult to talk to children outside the classroom.
It’s important to build common ground and lavish positive attention on pupils. It works wonders.
Poison
When the culture of the school is clearly defined and led by the headteacher, most pupils will readily conform. The hierarchy, with adults as boss, becomes well-established and accepted.
But in schools where children see that their louder, more antagonistic peers are in control, hostility towards teachers spreads like a poison.
The quieter pupils, the ‘nice kids’, soon start to push against authority, too.
They become increasingly defiant and aggressive — for their own self-preservation.
When staff and children start to see what a good school looks and feels like, the energy of the place is transformed.
Yes, adults and children work together as a team — but everyone needs to understand that the adults are the captains. None of this is difficult. It might not be fashionable —but it is transformative.
Manners and respect are all too rare in our society.
They’re not ‘restrictive’ — far from it — and it’s high time Ofsted understood that.
- Barry Smith is a co-founder of the Michaela Community School in London.