New Kid

Year 8 make for a fairly happy classroom, rid of some of its troublemakers and with some others subdued by the sheer weight of constantly followed-up expectation and still others cajoled into compliance with praise and adaptation. We get along pretty well, and they will humour me and laugh with me, and I am some way to figuring out how to get their best out of them. The cycle of demand-denial-demand doesn't happen very often, and there's a fair bit of maths talk, sparks of genuine interest and, every so often, moments of quiet thought. Then there's a new kid.

Maybe I'm naive, but I think of new kids as being initially, at least, quiet and reasonably compliant. That has overwhelmingly been my experience, even if they're just new to the class and not to the school - they're checking the new teacher out. Not this one. I am unaware of his existence until he bursts into the classroom before the lesson begins, then barrels out again. As I step into the corridor, he (let's call him Deep) demands that he sit next to one particular kid, 'Cos he's my only friend, Miss!' I realise he must be new and say that we'll see, and that in this class, students must sit in a seating plan. His voice is, as you may have gathered, quite extraordinarily deep for a 13 year old, and he is very tall and large. When the class enter, he takes himself off and sits next to yet another kid. I have to ask him to stand up and place him somewhere more suitable. I exchange a glance with my TA and we both take a deep breath.

As the lesson starts he begins to make loud and silly comments, stating the obvious. 'Miss, miss, I don't get it, I think it's because, you know, I wasn't here last lesson!' The other kids initially think this is funny, but the repetition soon annoys them. Deep talks really loudly and really deeply, and seems immune to the annoyance of kids around him. When I ask him to stop talking, he apologises then does it again. And again. I give him a warning and put his name on the board. I explain what this means to him and the consequences if he continues, quietly. He argues back, loudly, that he can't have an after school detention! I explain that that is the final sanction, that it would be set for a later date, and anyway, I'm sure he can manage to not get that far. He shouts at full volume as I walk away 'But Miss, are you, like, proper sure?'

Deep improves marginally, but I'm worried by the bizarreness of his behaviour. At one point, in the middle of my explanation to the class he begins to laugh loudly. When I ask him to stop making noise, he explains (again, loudly) that he was 'just laughing at the funny man on the wall', pointing to my small picture of Einstein. He seems genuine in his shock at being reprimanded and sincere in his attempts to behave.

Now you might think that surely, surely I must have had some information, some guidance, before another student was added to quite difficult a class of 32. Our IT system is down, so it wasn't until the next day that I accessed the email. I gave his name and age, and that he would be joining my class. It said that no more information could be given, because his previous school was in Scotland and had not provided any data. They could not get hold of his mother. My TA is specifically trained in autistic-spectrum disorders, and we were both saying 'Asperger's-like?' to ourselves by the end of the lesson. We clearly failed Deep spectacularly, failing to deal appropriately with his behavioural needs or address any maths with him. I still have no idea of his mathematical ability (he has been placed in my set, the middle, for want of information). My only excuse is that I was so surprised by his appearance and behaviour that I found myself unable to judge whether his behaviour was a deliberate challenge or an unfulfilled need.

As to the other 32 students, I feel sorry for them.

Excited

A year 7 arrives early in my classroom. She is quiet and shy, so I take the opportunity to talk to her.

Me: You're getting on really well in maths at the moment. Are you feeling ok about the test?
Year 7: Yeah, I've done lots of revision. I'm a lot better at maths now than I was in primary school.
Me: Oh? How come? You're pretty good at maths!
Year 7: I didn't really like it at all in primary school, but it's better now, and I find it much easier.
Me: Why's that, then?
Year 7: Well, my last teacher was a maths specialist and she always said it was really important and she was really serious. She wasn't enthusiastic like you - you're always excited. And we didn't get to play any games.

Depression

It's been a tough couple of weeks. At the end of last week, a kid in my form had a breakdown, and I had to deal with it. Totally. Because I was the only person he would speak to. It's flattering, and surprising, as I haven't spoken to the kid much previously. Mostly, thought, it was terrifying - I was worrying I would say the wrong thing. How to deal with a teenager who tells you that, every so often, he has sad thoughts that 'spiral out of control', and he can't stop crying? When he says he's afraid of how he feels, and of what he might do? I knew the long-term stuff to do (Mental health and child protection referrals etc) but in that instant, when I was called, came running, and saw this kid staring at the wall with tears running down his face, what to say?

I spent half an hour talking with him and his best friend, in what turned into a sort of group counselling session where we talked about fears and self-worth. I am in no way qualified to do that, but he wouldn't speak to anyone else. Not the school counsellor, or nurse, or his mother. So it was me. In the end, his mum came and we sorted a plan and he went home, and... then it was half term.

I've been thinking of this kid all week. These situations are so hard to put down, especially when I have a whole week to worry in. Maybe I need a session on fears myself. I'll see him tomorrow.