What Challenging Behaviours Really Taught Me
Everything is easier when you build rapport!
In my second year as a teacher, I took over three classes of autistic students, some who had been taught by the previous teacher for two consecutive years. Two of these older students were tough to win over. Today, I’m going to tell you about Manuel (pseudonym).
My first vivid memory of Manuel is the first time I set up the laptop for the video lesson. Suddenly, white snowflakes of paper began cascading down in front of my eyes, settling on my hair and shoulders like giant pieces of dandruff. Behind me stood Manuel, laughing hysterically. Is this really happening? I thought! Yep, he’s shredding paper over my head! Later on, he’d shred worksheets he didn’t want to do.
During lessons on the interactive white board, he’d run up, grab one of the interactive pens and start scribbling. More laughter. He’d pause videos and start pressing on other videos – effectively taking over the system, which couldn’t be overridden on the computer. Any disapproving words would lead to his outright refusals and yelling. Ignoring misbehaviour didn’t seem to effect any change either. Complimenting when he was doing what I had asked got an immediate angry reaction and he would stop doing whatever it was I wanted! Doing these things over and over again just meant I was being inconsistent and unpredictable. No wonder we were at loggerheads! Most days, I felt miserable going home, feeling like I’d failed at living up to the teacher I wanted to be. Remember, Kara, I would tell myself on the drive to and from school, as Russell Barkley says, “Children who need love the most often ask for it in the most unloving ways”.
The day we consulted with a psychologist, Manuel sat up straight, faced the front, answered questions with unbelievable depth and thoughtfulness, and followed the plan without any interruptions. “Can you come every week?” I remember asking. She gave me some ideas, but they were general because none of what I was describing happened. At all. It was like he knew he was being watched!
Sonia, the incredible Child and Youth Worker I’m fortunate to work with every day, helped me problem-solve. Although Sonia’s role was to help the whole class, Manuel was used to one-on-one support in the general classroom setting. He seemed to need even more structure and support than we were giving. She’d negotiate with him, writing three sentences if he wrote one, and gradually shifting the workload so that he took on greater ownership and decreasing time side by side as the year progressed.
He loved talk time with her (having worked with her for three years), to share about his favourite TV show and his new pet dog, Roger. So, we gave him frequent breaks to do this. (He wasn’t interested in talking to me about these things at first, but I hoped we’d get there.)
I often let Sonia take the lead when there were task demands, given their closer relationship. Instead of from me, directives began to come from other sources. “According to the schedule” or “the clock says it’s time for…” were frequent prompts. Hard to argue with those things!
We also started to give him paper to shred if he wanted, pulling the recycling bin over toward him, and we always had extra worksheets on hand. He seemed to lose interest in shredding (especially since it was now sanctioned).
I wanted to build our relationship, so every morning when he arrived, we began with our own one-on-one time. We would talk about Roger. One day, we did a Star Wars puzzle together. Another morning, we made a class banner. He hated to colour, so he wrote the words and drew shapes and told me how to colour them. We talked about what our class motto should be.
I also started asking him to help me and thanking him, as much as I could. “Manuel, could you help me by turning out the lights for the video?” “Manuel, I’d love your opinion…What game should we play?” “Thank you so much – I really appreciate how you held the door open for me.” I would give him important jobs to do, like collecting trip monies or unlocking the classroom door when we came back.
Visuals. Discussion-based responses. Roleplays. I planned lessons with his strengths and interests in mind.
And we got there. It took time, and patience, and constant reflection, but we got to a place where we enjoyed spending time together -- and everything else became easier. He no longer reacted defensively to compliments, because he trusted my compliments were genuine and our relationship had dramatically shifted to a place where he cared what I thought. He began to say, “I was wrong about you. You’re a really good teacher.” He began complimenting and thanking ME for things. And finally, we could do the real work: setting goals collaboratively, letting him take the lead. I’d ask him how I could help or what he thought he needed, and he’d tell me. At the end of the day, we both left feeling good.
Seek out student insights. Let them change you, your classroom, and your teaching.
There’s so much I learned from Manuel, but the most important is this: what seems like challenging behaviour is really more of a moment. Moments always pass. Those moments, however, are an opportunity for self-reflection. How can I make this environment in our classroom more supportive of this child? What can I put in place to make this easier for both of us next time? Are my reactions helping or hurting? Because most of the time, the challenging behaviour stemmed from me.
Almost a decade later, I’m way better at avoiding power struggles and building positive relationships with students. My classroom is much more student-centred. Everyone gets leadership opportunities. I listen more. And sometimes, when I look at the time and say to my class, “According to the clock, it’s time to start packing up”, I smile at the memory. Thanks, Manuel.