‘Botheredness’

Two lads in my outgoing year 11 class. I fought hard to rank them this summer level 5 maths despite their performance data.

Difficult but very intelligent boys.

Both *extreme* behaviour issues.

One would refuse to go to class and wander the school at will. Upon being challenged would dismiss staff with a tirade of foul language unperturbed by any school sanction.

He was placed with me when he refused to go to lesson at all.

The other would sit with a 1000 yard stare with an undercurrent of rage ready to surface. If pressed to work he would walk out and needed indirect non confrontational strategies to keep in the room. Previously excluded from another school. Often absent for period 1.

All credit to my school for taking him in and also for not excluding the other boy. In other schools I’ve worked in he definitely would have been permanently excluded.

Both hated school. Both had initial run ins with me.

Anyway. I bumped into them both today as I walked into Smythes toys.

As they appeared in front of me I had an apprehensive moment, wondering what the next seconds might bring.

“I’ll call you back” says one as he sees me and dismounts from his bike. Both said hi, thanked me for my grade and we chatted a while.

The eyes, the expressions softening, the joy at seeing me. Took me by surprise and in that moment I knew I’d had a *real* impact on them both.

I recently listened to a podcast interviewing Paul Dix. One thing that resonated was his notion of ‘botheredness’, being bothered about a difficult child. This must have been something both lads picked up on. Perhaps they didn’t get the same degree of ‘botheredness’ elsewhere.

I say this because I didn’t do anything with them in class. Just taught as I do and nothing different for them, no differentiation etc.

Except I bothered about them. I also extended a hand of infinite patience. Space when their anger boiled over and they would walk out.

Or refuse to come in. Occasionally abuse me in the corridor. But undaunted I would be bothered, I would stand in silence without reacting and invite them in. Either when they were ready or offer them the next day without prejudice.

This dance went on to and fro and over time their engagement increased. They did well in their mocks. Or the papers one of them got out of bed for.

Prior to lockdown they were beginning to switch on after I had a long chat after school about what they wanted from life.

It’s these precious moments that make the profession a noble one. The selfless sympathetic joy at seeing young people succeed cleanses the soul in a sense.

Largely invisible but now and again one gets to see it and know that there’s more to teaching than instruction.

My advice for new teachers, be bothered.

Work within the boundaries you or your school requires of course. But for that difficult child, sometimes your ‘botheredness’ will make all the difference.

Challenging behaviour has its drivers, its origin long before you get to see it, and it won’t disappear quickly because detentions etc.

However, words said to me as an NQT still echo in my head. “When you finally crack it with that difficult child, you’ll feel a million dollars”

And when you do get that breakthrough moment all the pain, frustration, anger, exasperation, will fall away. It’s a wonderful moment. Sometimes a major one, often small moments.

But it’s what we do, we teach developing children. It will never be easy but will always be worth it.

Thanks for listening