A piece about the power of connecting with those we teach, with sincerity, curiosity and joy!
I’ll never forget my very first formal lesson observation. Back then, Ofsted had only just been introduced (yes, I’m that old!), and my challenging North Manchester school was gearing up for its first inspection. As part of our preparation, they began doing formal lesson observations. When I joined the school as Careers and Work-Related Learning Coordinator, I was assigned a small band of Year 10s for "vocational learning"—basically, a room at the farthest end of the school, a blackboard on wheels, and three copies of the ASDAN Bronze/Silver Award booklet.
Standing in front of about a dozen faces, I saw everything from anger to disinterest to outright, "Ooh, fresh meat, this is going to be fun!" For the first time, I felt doubt creeping in—was this the career move for me? Then, as if on autopilot, I heard a confident voice apologizing to the students. It was mine. I was telling them how sorry I was that the education system had let them down, how unfair it was that they’d been left behind, and how I’d do everything I could in the next two years to give them something to start their working lives.
Stunned silence.
Fast forward six months to the observation. By then, I had developed genuine relationships with each of them. Through open, honest conversations—and yes, consequences when needed - consistently backed up with communication with home’ about the good the bad and the downright bizarre, I had earned their trust. I learned that to keep R from trashing the room when he fell out with S, I’d need to have a story ready about how my husband’s (completely fictional) boilie maker had let him down, ruining his (also fictional) carp fishing trip. I knew C wasn’t just an "angry young woman" but a 14 year old girl navigating a chaotic home life, who was also a talented but frustrated writer, fiercely loyal, and just stuck with some awful friends. I knew J’s wheelchair-bound, eccentric grandad was his absolute hero, even more-so than the great Tony Hawks! And they knew I was someone who kept their promises, wanted and expected the very best for and from them, and was someone who cared.
The day of the observation came. The old-school Deputy Head, whom I’ll call Mr. Cyanide, came in before the students. He sat down, silent and stern. C was the first pupil to enter. I greeted her as usual, and as we took the chairs off the desks together, we chatted about how she was tired and a TV show we both loved. Slowly, the others drifted in. We got on with the lesson, which involved listening to music and discussing the emotions conveyed by the artist. It was a typical lesson, nothing more, nothing less. (I never did buy into the ‘put on a show’ approach to observations’)
Afterward, the pupils left, helping clear up and saying goodbye. Mr. Cyanide sat in stony silence, making me anxious. Had I messed up? He turned slowly and said, "Do you have any idea what mayhem those kids are causing in every other classroom in this school? That was incredible... What on earth have you been doing to get them to act like that?"
I don’t know if it was relief or just my growing future headteacher-sized ego, but I couldn’t resist. I looked at him, smiled, and said, "Those kids aren’t acting. The version they give everyone else is the act."
The Power of Relationships in Behaviour Improvement
This moment always reminds me of a truth that’s often overlooked: the foundation of behaviour improvement (not management, NEVER management!) is connection, not control. When I look back, it’s clear that the progress made with those Year 10s wasn’t because I found the perfect discipline strategy. It was because I took time to understand them, communicate with them, set clear and consistent boundaries, I taught them how to regulate themselves and each other when things started feeling emotional, and most importantly, I built a relationship with with the child they were, not the reputation they had gained.
Research consistently shows the link between positive behaviour and strong teacher-student relationships. And while it’s tempting to believe that improving behaviour comes from a well-timed consequence or strict enforcement of rules, the reality is different. Children and young people often use challenging behaviours as a way to communicate unmet needs or frustrations. Many have underlying speech, language, and communication needs that are not just unmet, but often completely unknown. In fact, a 2019/20 report from the Youth Justice Board and Ministry of Justice found that 71% of young people sentenced in England and Wales were found to have these needs. The vast majority of those children having never received a diagnosis whilst of school age. Unforgivable.
The truth is, losing control of our emotions is part of being a human and something we all experience. Whether because of our upbringing, age, or neurological makeup, some of us have simply developed more tools to manage those emotions without damaging our relationships. Our students, on the other hand, might not yet have these tools—and that’s where we come in.
Connection, Not Compliance
Now, let me be clear: building relationships with students doesn’t mean excusing poor behaviour or not holding them accountable. In my experience, relationship-based behaviour improvement is about human connection, supported by consistency, boundaries, and consequences. It’s about helping students understand how their behaviour affects themselves and others and giving them the tools to make better choices. But none of that sticks unless they trust us first.
That lesson observation wasn’t special because of the topic or the resources I had. It was special because my students knew I saw them for who they were. They weren’t putting on an act in my classroom—they were just being themselves, because they knew they were safe, respected, and cared for. That’s the magic of relationship-based approaches to improving behaviour
If you’re a school leader looking to develop a more relationship-focused approach to behaviour across your school or want to understand how trauma and communication needs play a role, get in touch. I offer training on understanding behaviour, co-regulation approaches, and the deep link between behaviour and speech, language, and communication needs. Let’s help your staff turn compliance into connection and foster environments where every student can thrive.
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