Lemsip heroes

If you insist on battling the bubonic plague with extra coffee and a flapjack, you might not make it until the end of the school day, says Paul Dix...

You are not well. You knew it when you first woke up but chose to ignore the clammy-palmed signs of fever and the head-pounding drums marching your way. All of this would at least be manageable on a Sunday: you would pull the duvet over your head, send someone to the chemist and sleep it off. But it’s not Sunday; it’s Tuesday and there are 30 faces looking at you with eager anticipation. You know what you should do. You know what any sensible colleague would advise you to do. But instead of going home, grabbing a hot toddy and series three of the Wire, you decide to stick it out. Your natural teacher guilt is enough to make you struggle on.

The class are still ‘in training’. They have their good days (well, good mornings) and are certainly in better shape than they were five weeks ago. Yet you feel the progress you’ve made is still reliant on your force of personality, rather than any real discipline on the part of the children.

Now that you’ve resolved to stay and try and see it through, you need a plan.

How do you respond?...

A. Carry on regardless

Pretend it isn’t happening: deep breath, stiff upper lip – illness is for wimps!

B. Sympathy vote

Tell the class that you are not well and expect their sympathy.

C. Sit in the corner

Share the load, ask for help from an LSA / colleague and change your role.

A. Carry on regardless

Summoning up all reserves of energy, you launch into the first session at full pelt. It is going to be another good morning. At break time you ‘double coffee’ and even squeeze in an emergency flapjack – if you are going down, you are going down fighting.

Your hubris is paying off until William rips up Constantine’s painting, Chelsea gets knocked in the kerfuffle and Chardonnay wades in on her behalf. From nowhere comes a volcano of temper and you find yourself standing in the middle of the room, holding two children aloft and screaming at full volume: “THERE WILL BE NO PLAYTIME FOR ANYONE ANYMORE!”.

At lunchtime you are found in the staff room slumped on two library chairs pushed together in a makeshift bed, shaking involuntarily. The head wisely sends you home immediately.

It takes you a lot longer that usual to recover and a week later you return to find your class decimated by a nasty flu bug that has gone round like wildfire. Even three of the staff have caught it. The head is keen to speak to you about your attempt to martyr yourself for the cause. It seems your well-intentioned determination to stay at work for the sake of the children may actually have been a more selfish act.

Talking behaviour

* Can it ever be right to try and fight your way through an illness?

* How long should children be told to stay away from school after a sickness bug?

* How do you control your temper when you are really exhausted?

B. Sympathy vote

You gather the class on the carpet and explain that you are not feeling well. They listen intently with ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’ as you explain they are going to have to look after themselves for most of the day. Some children are sympathetic; a couple go overboard (“No, I don’t need a massage, thank you, Kaylea”). Others immediately see that a large gap has just opened up in the classroom behaviour plan and they begin exploiting it to the full. The far reaches of the classroom become a blur of teaching assistants chasing slippery boys.

There are minor incidents throughout the morning and various children are brought to you for instant castigation. You go through the motions, but no one really believes you will follow through. Sensing a steep decline in classroom expectations, Tom decides to climb out of the window to fetch a pen that ‘slipped out of his hand’. In the excitement, he becomes wedged in the frame and dangles upside down. The class is in uproar and teachers come running in to find you whimpering behind your desk while your heroic TA tries to unwedge an increasingly panicky nine year old.

The sympathy of your colleagues evaporates quickly. Letters from parents, endless meetings and negotiation with the LEA result in a rollicking and an extended safeguarding refresher for your troubles.

Talking behaviour

* Is it right to leave your Teaching Assistant to deal with behaviour issues while you try and teach?

* Should you tell the children if you are feeling unwell?

* How can you use colleagues to support your properly when you are feeling under the weather?

C. Sit in the corner

You are keenly aware that unless you protect the children (and colleagues) from your germs you will cause a wave of sickness. You need to make it to the end of the day and then you can collapse, but pacing yourself is key. Quickly drawing support from your teaching assistant, you contrive a plan. With your last reserves of energy, you barricade yourself into the reading corner and start creating a ‘help desk’ for the children. You surround yourself with resources that will help individuals if they get stuck and pass instructions on to your teaching assistant who will introduce the morning’s tasks.

Sitting silently in the reading corner gives you an interesting perspective on the lesson. Some children thrive on the independent work they have been set, others immediately seek help, and a few need a hard stare! Instead of spilling your germs on the children you communicate with a series of signs to redirect them: ‘Ask 3B4Me’, ‘Think, Pair , Share’, ‘Where else could you find help?’. The children enjoy the game and the teaching assistant relishes the change in roles. Some behaviour is wobbly after lunch, but those children are able to spend a few minutes calming down in your new lair. You feel awful, but struggle through to the end of the day with the gentler rhythm. In fact, it seems that you are needed less and less as the day goes on and you wonder why you haven’t tried sitting in the corner before!

Talking behaviour

/ * Where would you put an unmanned ‘unstuck corner’ in your classroom? * What would you do if the teaching assistant was not willing to lead the class? * How do you create a classroom culture where children don’t automatically seek support from an adult first?

Your behaviour style

A. Selfish bravery

Your decision to ignore the warring might appear brave at first, but your actions have consequences for the children, parents and the school: instead of a couple of days off you need a week; instead of protecting everyone from your germs, you have exposed them involuntarily. Asking for help is not a weakness. Looking after yourself can never be the wrong decision.

B. Burning Martyr

Although your class can perform the pantomime of sympathy, it is only a show. You cannot expect 30 nine year olds to extend that sympathy into how they behave and act towards you. You have a professional responsibility to keep the children safe, and that cannot be executed slumped behind a desk.

C. Cunning fox

You have not created a permanent way of organising your teaching, but it is enough to get you to the end of the day with the least amount of damage done. The greatest pleasure was just to watch the children working. You have seen new skills from your teaching assistant and now know just how much the children can achieve without constant adult intervention.

About the author

Paul Dix is lead trainer at Pivotal Education. For free behaviour tips, resources and training, see the website (pivotaleducation.com). Listen to Paul’s weekly podcast at pivotalpodcast.com