When I was a newly qualified teacher, I worked in a large, chaotic comprehensive, whose head was good at wangling money for new buildings, but apparently uninterested in creating any sort of discipline structure, so that those shiny new buildings wouldn’t have their carpets plastered with chewing gum shortly after completion. Teachers would cower in the staff room during breaks, reluctant to police the riotous corridors and playgrounds. It was a horrible place.
It won’t surprise you to hear that as a new teacher in such a school, I had a lot of trouble keeping my year ten class under control. My only previous experience of teaching had been at a school with a proper discipline structure, backed up by daily detentions which were centrally managed and manned. Here, I was pretty much on my own, faced with rowdy teenagers, including a significant minority who would deliberately interrupt me when I was trying to teach the class. When I remember those year tens, I feel very sorry for the quiet ones, who just wanted to get on with their work, but were frequently prevented from doing so.
And this wasn’t a tough, inner-city school. It was situated in quite a pleasant suburban area, where property was rather expensive. My year ten class wasn’t a bottom set, either. It was a middle set. In every way, I was experiencing something very average and normal for an English secondary school.
I was pleased when the time came round for year ten to do work experience. It was going to be a relief not to have to attempt to teach them for a little while. But I was rather apprehensive about having to go and visit them on their placements.
I needn’t have been. They were quietly getting on with their duties in every workplace I visited. Not a scrap of insolence or unpleasantness of any sort could I find.
They had been taken out of the secondary school culture, where defiance and rudeness are applauded, and placed in the adult world, where such things are frowned upon. And they wanted to fit in. They didn’t want to be looked down on as a snotty teenager. So they didn’t act like snotty teenagers.
It has been the same wherever I have visited teenagers on work experience placements. From the agony and drama of conflict in the classroom, they move quickly and easily into the calm, ordered world of adult work. The power of a surrounding culture is enormous.
It makes me angry that school leaders do not see that the teenagers who are ruining lessons in their school are perfectly capable of behaving politely and respectfully, if that is the prevailing culture they experience. Most people just want to fit in. Schools like Michaela show that it is possible to create a culture where respect is the norm, with the right leadership and the right structures.
There is nothing inevitable about the poor behaviour of young people. There is no excuse for the way so many young people’s education is severely damaged by disruption. It is not the result of their ‘teenage hormones’. It is the result of a permissive culture which idolises self-expression. School leaders must have the courage to challenge this culture, and learn from the example of those who have built a different one.