It breaks my heart too.. how so many kids expect to be shouted at, like it's just part of the deal. The way they internalise that as normal… it says so much about what we've come to accept in our systems.
And I love what you shared about your old students! That kind of lasting connection, where they want to catch up, speaks volumes. Even if it’s hard to put into words, I feel the weight of what you’re saying. That impact stays with them. That you stayed with them... that’s the kind of teaching the world needs more of!
I was on long-term supply in a school once where my temporary tutor group hated me - mostly for not being their beloved former tutor - and registered their objections in typically teenage ways. One day I got cross and shouted. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all night and spoke to them all to apologise, first thing.
I explained that I don’t believe in shouting as a method of control and that, to me, shouting means that I’m out of control in myself - and that is not the state I want to be in when I’m responsible for their wellbeing. I talked about how I hated being shouted at and that I didn’t shout at my own child so wouldn’t shout at someone else’s. That no-one should shout at me as an adult so why would we shout at them as the children we’re meant to be teaching to be responsible adults who can communicate effectively?
For the first time, they assumed listening position.
Then one girl piped up, ‘Don’t worry Miss, we’re used to it. It happens all the time. Everyone shouts at us.’
Lots of other kids nodded and my eyes instantly filled with indignant tears. The unfairness of it. ‘But that’s not okay! Being used to it doesn’t mean it’s right,’ I squeaked with my own near petulance.
‘S’alright Miss,’ she reassured. ‘Even if you don’t shout at us, someone else will.’
To them, there was nothing to be done about the inevitable.
Of course, they continued to be understandably surly and obnoxious, but I stopped shouting for any other reason than danger.
It was a huge moment for me that they’re unlikely to remember but I recognised something then that has hurt my heart ever since.
'I saw so much of myself in Anna. Especially the “good girl” part—the part that masked, that kept it all together, that made her struggles invisible.'
Me too. It contributed hugely to my burnout when I was teaching mainstream. So many kids I recognized, so many that I couldn't help how I wanted to. Long before I knew I was ND. It took several years of working in a school for autism for that one to dawn!
Mmm I feel this so deeply. That “good girl” mask runs so, so deep — and it’s heartbreaking how invisible our own struggles can become, even to ourselves. No wonder burnout shows up the way it does. It's brutal hey!
I hear you on seeing those kids… recognising parts of yourself in them… and feeling the pain of not being able to help in the way your heart knew they needed. It’s so real, that ache of knowing something’s not right, even before having the language or understanding to name it. Wild when you look back with this new awareness...
And wow… yes to that moment when it finally clicks. Thank you for sharing this — it’s such an important reflection. 💛
I think I have a poem brewing for this too - thanks to you - so don’t let me forget to go back to it after I’ve been to this meeting about funding around a Stigma quilt!
Hi Gary thanks for sharing. And yes, I really feel that. “Amplifiers of cultural overwhelm” what a potent way to put it.
Schools often take all the unspoken rules, expectations, and pressures of society, to conform, perform, mask, suppress … and crank the volume up. For neurodivergent kids, who are already navigating the world with heightened sensitivity or different processing, this can be completely disorienting.
Instead of feeling supported or seen, they end up internalising the belief that something is wrong with them, when really it’s the environment that’s out of sync. I think so many of us are only now realising the toll that took, and still takes.
And 'kind'. Yes, kind is everything.
I hate to hear kids being shouted at - yet sadly, they seem to expect it.
It delights me when I bump into old students who are pleased to see me and want to catch me up with their own lives and children. O
It says something that I can't quite put into words right now.
Yes… kindness really is everything 💛
It breaks my heart too.. how so many kids expect to be shouted at, like it's just part of the deal. The way they internalise that as normal… it says so much about what we've come to accept in our systems.
And I love what you shared about your old students! That kind of lasting connection, where they want to catch up, speaks volumes. Even if it’s hard to put into words, I feel the weight of what you’re saying. That impact stays with them. That you stayed with them... that’s the kind of teaching the world needs more of!
I was on long-term supply in a school once where my temporary tutor group hated me - mostly for not being their beloved former tutor - and registered their objections in typically teenage ways. One day I got cross and shouted. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all night and spoke to them all to apologise, first thing.
I explained that I don’t believe in shouting as a method of control and that, to me, shouting means that I’m out of control in myself - and that is not the state I want to be in when I’m responsible for their wellbeing. I talked about how I hated being shouted at and that I didn’t shout at my own child so wouldn’t shout at someone else’s. That no-one should shout at me as an adult so why would we shout at them as the children we’re meant to be teaching to be responsible adults who can communicate effectively?
For the first time, they assumed listening position.
Then one girl piped up, ‘Don’t worry Miss, we’re used to it. It happens all the time. Everyone shouts at us.’
Lots of other kids nodded and my eyes instantly filled with indignant tears. The unfairness of it. ‘But that’s not okay! Being used to it doesn’t mean it’s right,’ I squeaked with my own near petulance.
‘S’alright Miss,’ she reassured. ‘Even if you don’t shout at us, someone else will.’
To them, there was nothing to be done about the inevitable.
Of course, they continued to be understandably surly and obnoxious, but I stopped shouting for any other reason than danger.
It was a huge moment for me that they’re unlikely to remember but I recognised something then that has hurt my heart ever since.
This:
'I saw so much of myself in Anna. Especially the “good girl” part—the part that masked, that kept it all together, that made her struggles invisible.'
Me too. It contributed hugely to my burnout when I was teaching mainstream. So many kids I recognized, so many that I couldn't help how I wanted to. Long before I knew I was ND. It took several years of working in a school for autism for that one to dawn!
Mmm I feel this so deeply. That “good girl” mask runs so, so deep — and it’s heartbreaking how invisible our own struggles can become, even to ourselves. No wonder burnout shows up the way it does. It's brutal hey!
I hear you on seeing those kids… recognising parts of yourself in them… and feeling the pain of not being able to help in the way your heart knew they needed. It’s so real, that ache of knowing something’s not right, even before having the language or understanding to name it. Wild when you look back with this new awareness...
And wow… yes to that moment when it finally clicks. Thank you for sharing this — it’s such an important reflection. 💛
I think I have a poem brewing for this too - thanks to you - so don’t let me forget to go back to it after I’ve been to this meeting about funding around a Stigma quilt!
The good girl runs so deep. It was it my marrow way before I was born.
Through personal experience it’s because schools are amplifiers of cultural overwhelm.
Hi Gary thanks for sharing. And yes, I really feel that. “Amplifiers of cultural overwhelm” what a potent way to put it.
Schools often take all the unspoken rules, expectations, and pressures of society, to conform, perform, mask, suppress … and crank the volume up. For neurodivergent kids, who are already navigating the world with heightened sensitivity or different processing, this can be completely disorienting.
Instead of feeling supported or seen, they end up internalising the belief that something is wrong with them, when really it’s the environment that’s out of sync. I think so many of us are only now realising the toll that took, and still takes.
Thanks for naming it so clearly. 🙏🏽