(Apologies, this post has been 7 weeks in the making.
Unfortunately, my holiday in South Africa totally messed with my solitude.;-)
I can’t even begin to describe how lovely it was to be home again.
I love South Africans.
(I am biased,
I know,
but I do.)
They are just so friendly.
People acknowledge each other.
They make eye contact.
They talk.
I think I spoke to more random strangers in the 4 weeks I was in South Africa than I would have in an entire 6 months in London. South Africans just love to chat about life and have casual moans in supermarket queues- something that feels more comforting than draining. I am not blind to the many, very real issues that the country faces, but despite all of that, there is a sense of ‘connectivity’ that often feels so completely lost in London.
My week with my family was also really lovely…I think this was the first time ever that my disgruntled inner children behaved themselves and left all their baggage at home.
(Good Grief…. I think I am growing up!:-)
I’ve, however, had to come to the sad conclusion that Biscuit, my favourite dog in the whole wide-world, only has eyes for my sister-in-law, and that I am simply way tooooo needy for him.
Lucky for me, I have a whole host of terribly needy dogs all over London so I think I will survive.
15th of December 2025
I’ve been trying my best not to write about my negative experiences in schools because sometimes I feel like a very depressing town crier. It feels like I keep shining a light on the same problems, but without a clear way
(yet)
as to how I can make any real difference in fixing the problem.
However,
I console myself with the fact that I am definitely not alone.
The world is full of teachers who have left the profession entirely and who, no doubt, feel just as helpless and frustrated as I do.
So this morning, when I woke up with an experience I had in a school
(A week ago)
still swimming around in my head –
I decided
SOD it!
I just need to get it down and out!
I will embrace my Town Crier Role!
A couple of weeks ago, I landed up in a high school for autism, and I wrote about what a lovely day I had had and what a great school it was.
(Mmmmmm….I think I might like to make a formal retraction, please.)
On Monday, I returned to the school for the 3rd time, and the last hour of my day was pretty horrendous. My second day at the school, two weeks ago, passed without any incidents, but I was starting to feel uncomfortable with how rude the children were allowed to be to the adults and to each other. I realise that a lot of my experiences in schools for autism involve too many adults shouting at children and I can 98% say that this is one thing that this school is NOT doing.
(In hindsight, this is probably why I loved the school initially.)
I feel like the people who run this school have a genuine love and care for the kids, and they are doing their best to create a non-combative, supportive and accepting environment for them. Unfortunately, this equates to the pupils doing exactly what they want 24/7 with no clear procedures as to how they need to manage their sensory overload and zero accountability. I have had numerous students walk out of class for ‘apparently’ no reason, never to return. No explanations are given or even expected. These are all fully verbal teenagers who are more than capable of asking for a movement break if they need one, even if it’s just to their learning mentor.
I would also like to add that the 3 days I have taught there, I have never actually taught anything. The children all seem to ‘work’ independently, and all I do is walk around the class or sit at my desk doodling.
(While trying to look like I am doing very important work)
On the odd occasion, a child might need some help, but there are usually learning mentors in the class who help them. On my first day there, I assumed that maybe it was like that because they were trying to make it as easy as possible for a new supply teacher.
But by day three, I realised that NOPE, that’s pretty much the norm. I did ask one of the teachers if they actually did any whole-class teaching, and she mumbled something about
“Next term, when they start their new module.”
Of course, later in the lesson, I overheard one child in the class pipe up and say
“We never learn anything in this class”
So yeah, I don’t know.
(Out of the mouths of babes?)
I understand that a lot of people with autism prefer to work alone, and it is good to help them reduce the sensory and social overload that they may experience.
But with autistic pupils who don’t naturally seek interaction, this well-intentioned approach feels like a huge missed opportunity to practice respectful adult engagement, turn-taking and basic language modeling.
Frankly, when I am there, all I feel like is a glorified babysitter.
So, most of my day was pretty chilled.
I jumped around to 4 different classes, in two of them I was just working as a learning mentor…which was great as I actually got to sit and support a couple of children one-to-one.
My last lesson was an hour long, and the teacher had left some work for them to do independently.
(Surprise, Surprise)
There were only 4 children in the class, myself and one learning mentor whom I shall call Liam because he looked like a very young Liam Hemsworth with brown eyes.
(Good God, that man was gorgeous!)
I’d worked with two of the children, Janice and Darren, before, and I hadn’t had any issues with them.
(FYI, real names are never used)
Janice is absolutely stunning, and I am pretty sure she could have given Kate Moss a run for her money in her early years.
Unfortunately, Janice, in all her beauty, came with a very angry, mean-girl demeanor. In our previous lesson together, she had simply glared at me the entire lesson, and I have never seen her smile or say anything nice to any of the other children. If anything, you can’t help but wonder how much sadness Janice is masking underneath all that anger and aloofness. This time around, Janice was a little more vocal and started the lesson by shouting at the top of her voice at Liam, demanding that he come sit next to her.
(Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who had clocked his gorgeousness)
Liam obliged.
Another girl in the class was Vicky.
Vicky personified the typical ‘bully’ look.
The moment I walked into the class, a flash of delight crossed her face. If a look could speak, it would say:
“AAAAh fresh meat!”
Vicky had all the power, and she knew it.
She started small by refusing to do her work and continually turning around to talk to a boy, Darnash, behind her. When I asked her to please turn around and do her work, she very calmly asked
‘Why?’
Mmmm….why indeed?
I have learned my lesson the hard way with these types of students – no amount of explaining or rationalising is ever going to get them to do their work. They have an answer for everything and they love nothing more than a verbal sparring match.
I wasn’t about to give her that opportunity, so I said nothing.
I pulled Liam aside and asked him what sanctions were used when pupils were misbehaving and his response was
“None – the school doesn’t believe in any sanctions and their behaviour policy relies solely on ‘positive reinforcements.”
Sigh!
Vicky then started playing voices on Google Translate, which she thought was hilarious. Liam moved away from Janice and asked Vicky nicely to please stop.
“What are you going to do about it?”
she smirked.
After a couple more failed attempts at asking her to stop,
Liam decided to take Vicky’s laptop away from her.
A bold, justified move that only meant she escalated her behaviour.
Janice, who is not at all happy that Liam had abandoned her to deal with Vicky, shouted at him, at the top of her voice:
“Liiiiiiaaaaaaamm come sit next to me. Do I need to start misbehaving to get your attention?”
Liam tries to position himself neutrally between Janice and Vicky.
Vicky is now up on her feet, and she is swearing at Darnash, who is in turn swearing back at her.
“You’re a fucking wanker”
“Well, you’re a fucking dickhead!”
They aren’t angry….it’s a joke…..they are loving having the chance to wind up the new ‘supply teacher’
I ask them to please stop swearing, but I am well aware that it was a futile request.
I am at a loss as to what I am supposed to do.
Speaking calmly and nicely to them hasn’t worked.
Shouting at them DEFINITELY won’t work!
A voice in my head is playing on repeat:
“Don’t react!
Don’t react!
DO NOT REACT!”
I know that Vicky is using her humour and sarcasm to stay in control, but at that point, all I could do was put my head down and ignore it.
I scan the class to try and see if there is a phone somewhere so that I could phone the office and ask for some extra support….nope.
I suddenly see the deputy head walk past the class, and I run to grab him. I tell him that Vicky is swearing in class and refusing to do her work, and that I am really not comfortable with this type of behaviour.
The deputy head teacher leaned into the class and asks:
“Vicky are you swearing?”
She shouts a loud, joyous:
“No”
And he tells her to do her work.
Umm, is that it?
Janice then shouts at the deputy head:
“Who do you think you are?
Why are you always popping your head into our classes and telling us what to do? “
He tells her to do her work, mumbles that he will send someone to help support and leaves.
Janice then declares that she wants a water break and that Liam has to go with her.
Inside, I am screaming
“NOOOOO don’t leave me alone with them!!!”
My only solace is that “reinforcements” are coming.
(Alleluia)
Darren, who up to this point had been doing his work quietly, decides that this is way too much fun to be missing out on. He moves his chair and sits right next to the door, rocking it backwards and forward, banging the door against the wall.
I ask him to please stop.
Darren:
“Why?
Am I irritating you?
In an attempt to sound like the ‘voice of reason’, I say:
“Well, it is a little annoying, and you are most probably disturbing the class next door.”
He then goes on a rampage about how there is no class next door, only the toilets and seems to think it’s the funniest thing EVER that I did not know that!
(Like, oh my God, how could I NOT have the entire school’s blueprint at the forefront of my mind?)
Darren then decided to poll the remaining three children in class to find out if they wanted him to stop the banging.
(Needless to say, I lost the poll.)
Vicky is still doing her shit!
I walk around the class quietly, still saying nothing.
A couple of minutes later, my ‘reinforcement‘ arrives.
(Let’s call her Jesse.)
Jesse is huge, probably 6 feet and quite overweight – her presence is formidable as she smiles at me and says
“Good morning, Miss”,
ever so politely.
I smile back – secretly happy that they sent some muscle into the room. No sooner than Jesse opens her mouth do I want to cry –
This is who you sent to help de-escalate the situation?
Jesse shouts:
“What’s going on in here?
Why are you ALL misbehaving?”
Said with a smile that implied she was just loving all the drama.
Liam and Janice return to the class.
After a couple of minutes, Jesse is not behaving at all like a learning mentor as she starts grabbing Darren’s books and is now matching Vicky’s jovial swearing.
I can’t actually believe my ears or my eyes…..I walk over to Liam and ask:
“Who on earth is this woman?”
Liam sighs and says:
“Jesse, I think you need to go back to class now?”
WTF?
That’s a kid????
I feel like an idiot.
Of course, she wasn’t wearing a lanyard- so I should have clocked that straight away.
(But I forgave myself because frankly, when you are stressed, you miss vital clues like that!)
Jesse is having way too much fun and is not budging.
Now all the kids are up on their feet, except for Darnash, who is enjoying the ‘drama’ but still trying to get some work done.
On my first day there, the deputy head teacher told me to hand out ‘house points’ as their positive reinforcement technique.
I try giving him a house point
Darnash:
“OOh a house point. Whoop di-woop!”
It’s starting to feel like a circus in there….
Liam has no idea what to do.
I have no idea what to do.
I walk to the next-door class and inform the teacher that there is a girl in my class who won’t leave and that she is causing havoc. The teacher walks over, peeks in and then slithers back over to me, shaking his head vigorously.
(It seriously looked like all the colour had drained from his face)
“No, no, no that’s Jesse, you will never get her out of your class now.
There is nothing you can do.
You just have to wait for her to leave on her own accord.
Last week, she completely vandalised my entire classroom.
No one can control her…
She doesn’t have a learning mentor, she just walks around the school going were ever she wants.
OMG
It’s like the wild, fucking west!
Having spoken to many other teachers in the past, I know that many have actually just walked out of schools or classes that are this bad.
But I’d be dammed if I’m going to risk losing a day’s wage because of this.
By now I have half an hour left.
I completely ignore all the negative behaviour.
Jesse (James) finally decided to ride off into the sunset and annoy some other poor teacher.
I made it to the end of the day.
On chatting to Liam afterwards, he mentioned how he was very surprised we had so little support with this class, as it is the most difficult class in the school.
(You dont say)
He also mentioned how taking Vicky’s laptop away from her would have been severely frowned upon as it would be considered a negative sanction, and lest we forget, this school only uses positive reinforcement
I honestly had no words.
I cannot for the life of me understand schools that try to shelter children from experiencing any form of negative consequences.
Discomfort, disappointment and accountability
are all part of learning how the world works.
How can we teach children resilience, kindness and empathy
if they are never expected to take responsibility for anything?
*********
The good news,
(out of all of this),
was that I walked out of school that day with a smile on my face while making a very large mental note
NEVER
to return.
One of my biggest lessons learned being a supply teacher,
for the last 7 years,
is that I have had to learn to let things go.
5 years ago a class like that would have left me feeling
overwhelmed,
frustrated,
emotional
and like I had some how failed as a teacher.
My innate tendency to want to fix EVERYTHING has also,
at times, been my own worst enemy.
For the last hour of the day I had the words
“Not my monkey,
Not my Mess”
“Not my Monkey,
Not my mess”
swimming around my head on a continual loop.
(The original idiom is, “Not my monkey, not my circus’)
Of course I still care deeply that this is sort of thing is happening in so many schools, but I am more able to detach myself from it now.
As a supply teacher I can only do so much.
Of course I don’t plan on being a supply teacher for ever,
but for now
I can’t help but feel like all this experience
is leading me some where….
(When I figure it out, I’ll be shouting it from the rooftops:-)
