The school had been up and running for only about a year. It was an international school in Sweden, open to all and charging no fees. I was a relatively green head of year and most of the students were delightful. Seemingly, it was the perfect situation.

However, a minority of students began to cause problems. They were disaffected, either by society, home life or school, and began showing it in the classroom. A couple of dozen were a daily battle. Common problems involved non-compliance in class, talking back to teachers, low-level disruption and arguments with friends in corridors.

It was frustrating and we knew we needed to act. So, with the backing of a supportive senior leadership team, I decided to tackle poor behaviour using a no-nonsense approach.

The simplest technique seemed to be employing quick and efficient systems and instructions, delivered in a no-excuses style. When poor behaviour occurred, we would email home notifying parents, whom we expected to follow up with their child. After three notifications in a week, detention was set.

It did not work as well as we had hoped. Follow-up by parents was variable and some students quickly accrued more detentions than was comfortable. Admittedly, it did work for some young people. But for others it arguably made things worse: they were angry and, at times, so was I.

Although we persevered, the same students were being removed from class time and time again, becoming isolated and building up a never-ending list of detention dates. We had meetings with parents, wrote action plans, and created thick files full of incident reports, problems and failed approaches.

We were left feeling exhausted. The principal and I realised that continuing in the same way wasn’t going to work. This was a school, not a battleground, and we were being worn down. I suggested we went back to the drawing board and looked at the research.

Making a splash

A week later, a pile of books on behaviour arrived. I read them enthusiastically. One, by Bill Rogers, had the ominous title Cracking the Hard Class. I thought it would be about shouting, becoming an alpha and ensuring you had a tough attitude. I left it at the bottom of the pile for a while.

I shouldn’t have. My guess about its contents couldn’t have been more wrong.

Rogers says effective school behaviour policy is all about establishing a positive culture. He doesn’t advocate adversarial battles in corridors. Instead, he argues we need to create an ethos that reflects the norms of society. It’s not about setting unusual rules, it’s about reinforcing rules that we all live by.

If you talk over someone at home, that is considered impolite. It’s the same in school. If you break something, you should apologise and try to make amends. It’s the same in school. In the outside world, we expect people to respect each other. It’s the same in school.

We’re all trying to get the best out of our lives, and we spend a large part of those lives in school, so the expectations should be the same as they are elsewhere.

So how did we approach those consistently disruptive students? Rogers explains that you can’t just plough on and hope the students will eventually learn.

Instead, we stopped going through the curriculum and spent a lesson working on behaviour. We explained that what was currently happening could not carry on. We got students to collaborate in groups to define what worked in the classroom.

The students and I came to the same conclusion: you have to respect people and equipment, focus on one voice at a time and try your best. We wrote these expectations down (notice that the word “rules” isn’t used) and agreed on a sanctions policy of warning and then removal, giving them ownership of the culture in the classroom.

Calmer waters

Once the expectations were agreed by everyone, the decision was deemed final and they were clearly displayed. When problems arose afterwards, we could simply point to the expectations and it was much harder for students to argue back than before.

By following Rogers’ advice, I found that my classroom and our school became calmer and more positive. His guide became our map to success, establishing shared commonalities and vision between pupils and staff. It sounds simple but taking the time to co-create expectations had a huge impact.

It’s not a perfect model and it’s not a panacea; some students really don’t want to be in school, no matter how much you reach out. Eventually, after a year or so, some young people realised it was a never-ending cycle and left. But discussions with the vast majority were much calmer, and much of the time, positive relationships were built.

On a personal note, my heart rate was lower. I felt an expectation to model good behaviour more explicitly, and the learning felt more shared and equal. I smiled more freely and felt more positive. So did the students.

I headed a team of 13 other staff, and our level and quality of dialogue increased thanks to these positive strategies. I also felt more empowered to deliver success.

I now understand the importance of transmitting values and building societies; it’s not all about delivering a curriculum.

James Roriston teaches supply in the UK. He is a former head of year at a school in Uppsala, Sweden, and a former head of music and boarding coordinator at the International School Bangalore, India. He tweets @jamesroriston

This article originally appeared in the 26 July 2019 issue under the headline “Want to win the behaviour battle? Give up the fight”