One of the first things I noticed when I started being a teacher was that the boundaries of the institution put a different frame on how I perceived almost all of the young people within it. On the world outside, an 18 year-old tough lad sporting a pulled down baseball cap, drooping trousers and a hostile attitude might seem like a threatening presence to me.

A gang of ‘em strutting lazily in my path, claiming the space as their territory as I walk alone, might make me cross the street. The exact same scenario within a college never makes my nerves rattle, it only provides the meat for a jolly good ticking off.

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Appearance

The most effective tactic to lance the arrogance off a young man trying to project intimidation through his appearance, is to wheel out a a middle-aged battle axe (like my good self) to question the specifics of his look. I do so enjoy jauntily sing-songing, “Pull your slacks up please. I’m not paid to see your Y-fronts!” at a youth misguidedly trying to communicate his potential criminal status.

Or even better, the ones who stumble-swagger down a corridor with their hands casually tucked groin-wards. I mean, why would you? I feel my shoulders roll backwards and my spine straighten as I square up and bellow, “Excuse me sir, you’re in public. Please stop ferreting in your trollies.” For some reason the more unfashionable the language, the more I amuse myself.

No one has ever mouthed off at me in response. I think it’s the say-what-you-see aspect of the confrontation that takes them by surprise.  

What is their intention?

The only problem is that I don’t actually know if what I perceive their intention to be - to intimidate, to threaten, to show dominance - is their actual intention. What if that isn’t the case at all? What if in that exchange, I’m the one with the bad behaviour, even though I’m not the one with my trotters down my smalls?

The gulf between perception and intention was demonstrated this week. A group in one of the places I teach told me that they felt intimidated by walking through a gathering of teenagers who habitually hang about in the corridor near our classroom, partially blocking the way. Some even described it a scenario they dreaded and walking down that corridor was becoming an ordeal. That’s never OK. I was a bit gutted that I hadn’t anticipated this scenario.

I walk through this group of kids to get to my classroom every week. I honestly hadn’t noticed they were there, never mind that they might be perceived as worrisome. As far as I was concerned they were just waiting for their next class. No one was be-hooded or partially de-trousered or causing any hint of hoo-ha. They were a bit loud and there was a lot of ‘em. That was it.

Lessons going on

I should have been more sensitive and spotted the potential cause for concern in advance. This demonstrates the difference in how I as a teacher, as an authority figure, as a person contractually and ethically obliged to be in a position of responsibility see students, regardless of age. I sort of see them, and I don’t mean this in a patronising way, as my kids.

I went out to the corridor to have a chat with the group. I asked them to respect the fact that there were lessons going on while they were waiting for theirs to start, so asked them to be quieter. I asked them to make space for people passing through the corridors and I asked the ones on the floor to stand up.There was no swagger, no arrogance, just a lot of ‘em. A couple of the students were slightly aggrieved, moaning, “We haven’t done anything!” I reassured them that I knew they hadn’t and they weren’t being told off, it was about how they might, without the slightest intention, make other people feel just by being in a group. It was about respecting other people’s feelings.

Most didn’t quite get what I was on about. The idea that how they feel inside themselves, how they present themselves to the world around them, could be received in a totally different way than they intended, blew their minds a little bit. It’s easy to fathom why this disconnect occurs.

Independence and expectations

Their bodies and minds are going through such vast and rapid transition. Only a couple of years ago they were children. They knew they were kids and what was expected of them in that stage of their lives. Now lots of them are adult sized. They have increased independence and the expectations of them have expanded too. They are similar to adults, but many are still catching up on the inside.

If they’re grappling with self-esteem, if they feel overwhelmed by their new place in the world and how they’re supposed to function within it, they are perhaps the last people to have enough self-awareness to recognise that they might come across as intimidating to others. I explained the situation again to this group, and while I totally understood why my own students might feel uncomfortable, I really felt for the group in the corridor too. Students can be intimidating, but they have may no idea.

Isn’t it weird the assumptions we make about other people, based on nothing but our own concerns and insecurities? I’ll maybe go a bit easier on the under-cracker flashers and the fruit stall fiddlers in future. They have feelings too. 

Sarah Simons works in colleges and adult community education in the East Midlands and is the director of UKFEchat. She tweets @MrsSarahSimons