Bad Behaviour Pandemic: Support Teachers or Lose Control

When I founded MFL Central, my goal was clear: support teachers with workload, marking and curriculum changes. These are the areas we talk about constantly in MFL, and they matter. But the more I listen to teachers across the UK, the more obvious it becomes that none of these issues are the real number one problem. Behaviour is.

Teachers mention it in every survey, every forum, every conversation, and it has made me rethink my priorities. I have only written one post on behaviour so far, but this year I intend to focus on it a little more. Behaviour is not a side issue. It is the main reason teachers leave the profession in droves, and it affects every minute of a teacher’s day. If we want to support teachers properly, we cannot ignore the thing that drains them the most.

This post is simply an overview, a space to think things through. I’m not putting myself forward as someone who has all the answers. I’ve had my share of difficult groups and difficult students, and that’s why I want to share what actually helped me as a HoD and how it fits into the wider picture.

I’m not covering classroom management strategies here, but I may explore them in future posts depending on how things develop. For now, the state of behaviour is the starting point. It shapes everything else, so it makes sense to begin here.

1. The MFL Team

You could say I was a disciplinarian as a classroom teacher and Head of Department. We often heard students asking, “Why are you French teachers so strict?” I don’t think it was a cultural thing, nor that we were unusually strict. It was our team ethos that made us strong. We believed that high expectations for behaviour, combined with simple, consistent routines, created a safe environment for learning. We did not deviate from that line, which is probably why students had that impression. This does not mean we did not experience behaviour issues; far from it. But we dealt with them firmly and collectively.

This shared approach helped us achieve excellent results, even though our school was in one of the most deprived areas in the UK. Yet, discipline was only part of the equation. We also prioritised high-quality teaching because you cannot expect students to behave and focus if you do not provide lessons that genuinely engage them. We worked hard to find strategies that boosted motivation and ensured progress. In my opinion, strictness without quality teaching becomes control, whereas quality teaching without boundaries becomes chaos. It's the balance is that works.

More importantly, we worked within the whole‑school framework, supported and encouraged by a strong Senior Leadership Team, a crucial element in sustaining high standards.

2. The Problem with “Low Level Disruption”

I get really annoyed when I hear the term “low level disruption”. By qualifying the disruption as “low level”, we minimise it and pretend its negative impact is small. We contrast “low level” with openly rude, confrontational or aggressive behaviour. The latter is usually dealt with because it is obvious and sometimes dangerous. But the "gentle", "harmless" low level disruption is treated as something we have to put up with, as if it were inconsequential.

In reality, it is the constant interruptions that fragment lessons and damage learning. It is the whispering during listening tasks, the off‑task students trying to communicate across the room while you are talking to the class, the never ending chatter despite reminders, the asking for and passing of equipment, the silly noises, the throwing of objects, the pointless questions, the requests to go to the toilet followed by a tantrum when you say no, the calling out, the answering back that never quite crosses the line to warrant a detention. The list goes on. How can these behaviours be considered low level? There is no “low level” for the teacher trying to teach or the students trying to learn. There is only lost learning time.

For me, there is no such thing as low level disruption. If learning is interrupted, it is disruption.

I truly believe that if we can find ways to tackle low level disruption, the rest will follow. If you address it early, it is far less likely to escalate and spread.

3. My Experience as a Supply Teacher

Doing supply work was an eye opener. I always thought that as the adult in the room, my seniority took precedence. But to survive as a supply teacher, I had to adjust my expectations and choose my battles.

Most of my time was spent negotiating, well... almost everything with students and turning a blind eye to certain issues. I kept nerves of steel most of the time, repeating to myself, “deep breath, it's not personal”, but in the end I decided to leave the classroom. I miss it at times, but here is what I do not miss:

Me              Student

“Put your phone away or I will confiscate it. “You can't do that!”

“Take off your coat, please.” “Why?”

“Where is your work?” “Up my a@r#e!”

“Please leave the room.” “No. You are paid to teach me. Do your job.”

“I am talking to your friend, not you.” “OMG! You are so rude. She is sooo rude!”

“I have asked you to be quiet.” “What is your problem?!”

These are only some of the nicer exchanges I had. Twice, I walked out of schools on the spot, on the same day, and once I left in the middle of a lesson because I was verbally abused and felt unsafe. I must add that some schools do get behaviour right, but they are becoming rarer.

Those repeated refusals to cooperate, the constant undermining of teachers’ authority, the mocking and the arguing at every request are edging into student‑to‑teacher bullying. In what other profession would this behaviour be tolerated? That level of defiance has consequences: rising teacher stress, burnout, depression, and ultimately teachers walking away from the job.

The bottom line is that teachers should not be expected to negotiate with children. We are the adults who have been trained to educate them. They are at school to learn, not to challenge every instruction. Constant negotiation drains teachers, weakens boundaries and creates inconsistency across classrooms.

We cannot keep sending teachers into school dreading the day ahead, sometimes with physical symptoms from sheer stress. Some young people absolutely have circumstances that require attention and care, but those circumstances do not excuse everything. They still need to learn to follow rules, because if they don’t learn it at school, where will they?

And while we rightly focus on supporting vulnerable children, we have almost forgotten the support teachers need. These priorities can and should coexist. The worrying reality is that, in some schools, the vulnerable ones are the teachers.

On the subject of supply teachers

From my experience, many schools treat supply teachers with genuine respect. They welcome you, brief you properly, make sure you know the routines, and check in throughout the day. Students respond well because they see you being supported as a true professional, not left to cope alone. In these schools, supply teachers feel valued, part of the team, and able to focus on teaching rather than firefighting. It’s true that supply teachers do not have the luxury of time to build relationships, but when behaviour expectations are already established, everything falls into place naturally.

Other schools treat supply teachers as disposable. You are given no information, no seating plan, no behaviour expectations, and no support when things escalate. You are invisible to staff who often fail to even say hello. You are treated as a failing teacher who “ended up” in supply, and therefore not deserving of respect. When teachers think this, students think it too. I can tell what kind of day I am going to have the moment I walk into a school, because positive behaviour is not only an expectation for children, it is a standard adults must model every single day too. In schools where staff model respect, consistency, and professionalism, supply teachers thrive; in schools where they do not, supply teachers become easy targets and behaviour deteriorates rapidly.

Personally, I think the term supply teacher needs rethinking. In parts of America, they are called guest teachers, which is a far better alternative. It implies hospitality, respect, and the simple idea that you should treat the teacher who is here to help, as you would a guest in your home. Mi casa es tu casa. The term supply suggests cannon fodder, or office supplies you use, discard, and forget. The reality is that most teachers who turn to supply do so because they needed distance from a system that made them emotionally or even physically unwell. Many are experienced, highly qualified, and passionate teachers who chose to walk away from a job that was damaging their wellbeing. It's a personal choice, not a weakness.

So if you have a permanent post, the next time you see a supply teacher, do not assume they are a “lesser” teacher. Say hello, support them, and include them, because failing to do so contributes directly to negative school behaviour. And believe me, supply teachers talk, and their experiences are exactly what make or break a school’s reputation.

We have to value supply teachers because supply teaching shapes behaviour, consistency, and learning more than most leaders realise. This is especially true now, when across the UK , 1 in every 20 lessons needs cover every single day, and more than 70% of students say they have had multiple teachers for the same subject in one year.

It is urgent that schools ensure learning does not stop just because students are in front of a supply teacher. That requires appropriate work, clear guidance, and real support — not throwing someone into a classroom, shutting the door, and blaming them when things go wrong. Supply teachers can only maintain consistency when the school provides the structure they need, and that structure must come from leadership, not from improvisation.

In schools with poor behaviour, students are aware of the lack of structure and take full advantage. You spend the day negotiating, managing chaos, and absorbing behaviour that would never be tolerated with permanent staff (or perhaps it would, which makes the job even tougher). In these environments, supply teachers become easy targets, and the absence of clear systems makes the job unnecessarily stressful and unsafe. It is no coincidence that these are the schools with the highest turnover, the weakest behaviour culture, and the most fragile staff morale.

4. The Mistake of Being Too “Pally”

A mistake I often see, particularly among less experienced teachers, is the belief that being strict will make students dislike them. The fear is understandable, but misplaced. You do not become a teacher to be liked. You are there to educate.

Being overly friendly does not work. It blurs boundaries and invites negotiation. You can build wonderfully positive relationships with students, but only if you implement rules from the start, fairly and consistently. Students respect clarity far more than friendliness, and they often feel safer with teachers who set firm expectations. They know where they stand, and they learn more.

Expecting children to follow rules is not uncaring. It is fair to everyone, especially the majority who behave. Supporting students who struggle with rules is essential, but not at the expense of most. When all the attention goes to the students who misbehave, what message does that send to the others? They might as well join in to be noticed.

You should never apologise for being strict. If strict means following the rules, applying sanctions fairly, and keeping expectations clear, then we should all be strict. I never tried to win students over by sharing my private life or by having banter for the sake of being liked. If those moments happened, they were on my terms, and only once real relationships had been built, the same way I would with colleagues.

I never pretended to be on their level because I wasn’t. I was not a friend, sister, or mother; I was the adult in the room, their teacher. My boundaries were professional and based on mutual respect. I never ridiculed students or labelled them, but I did challenge their behaviour. There is a difference. You can tell a child that their behaviour is stupid, but you never call the child stupid. Respect goes both ways: if you want it, you give it.

But strictness isn’t the whole picture. You also reward, nurture, encourage, and show kindness — you just don’t tolerate poor behaviour. Students understand that balance better than people think. When I meet former students now, they tell me they behaved in my lessons because they knew I was strict. They knew they couldn’t mess around without consequences, and they respected that. One student once said to me, “Miss, I behaved in your lessons because I didn’t want to let you down.” That left me speechless and showed me that strictness doesn’t push students away. It gives them the clarity and safety they need to respect you.

So my final advice is this: be strict and be proud of it, because boundaries protect both you and your students. Teaching is not a popularity contest, and if you signed up to be liked, you may not be in the right profession. In some staffrooms you will hear the familiar whispers: “kids hate him”, “they don’t like her”, but those comments usually come from adults who confuse being liked with being effective. They would be shocked if they knew what students say about them. Ignore the noise and stay focused on what matters: clarity, consistency, and the kind of respect that lasts long after your students leave your classroom.

5. Why Explicit Behaviour Systems Don’t Always Work

I am not convinced by rigid consequence systems. From my experience, they create friction and pull focus away from teaching and learning (because, yes, that should be the focus). When teachers spend more time tracking sanctions than delivering lessons, something is wrong.

I have seen many situations escalate simply because a teacher gave a well‑deserved C3. I also find these systems patronising for teachers. The justification is consistency: if teachers know exactly which sanction matches which offence, and students understand the hierarchy, then everything should run smoothly. I think this idea is flawed for two reasons.

Firstly, teachers do not judge behaviour in exactly the same way. One teacher may consider something a C2 while another sees it as a C3. That variation is normal. It reflects different styles, different levels of tolerance and different relationships with students. If a teacher has the respect of their class and students make progress, that should matter more than rigid categorisation. Consequence systems do not remove variation; they simply create new problems.

Secondly, these systems shift the focus away from teaching. Behaviour becomes the puzzle to solve rather than evidence of what is happening in the classroom. If schools set clear expectations, apply consequences consistently and allow teachers to use their own styles and strategies, behaviour becomes manageable and predictable.

What I have seen in "difficult" schools is SLT conversations dominated by incident‑tracking. Hours of time and energy go into working out what happened, who said what, who did what, and whether a sanction can be applied. In many cases, sanctions aren’t applied because of a student’s background or circumstances. These SLT teams mean well, but by focusing almost entirely on negative incidents they lose sight of the bigger picture. They forget the importance of building a culture where expectations are clear, consequences are applied consistently to everyone, and learning and progress remain at the centre of everything. In my view, strong teaching and learning come first, and behaviour grows from that foundation.

I would also add that when students cannot meet the basic expectations of the system, they should not remain in it at the expense of everyone else. Sometimes that means exclusions. Schools often avoid this because of figures, and because removing a student usually triggers the need to accept another managed move to balance the numbers and the funding. I know this view will attract criticism, but some students genuinely need different systems .Those systems already exist (Alternative Provision, PRUs, SEMH schools, etc.), and that is a separate debate. What matters here is that poor behaviour cannot be allowed to run the show, and it cannot dictate the culture of a school.

Recording incidents is vital, because you cannot have a clear picture of what’s happening in a school if behaviour isn’t carefully monitored. But in some environments, where everything is logged electronically, teachers become scared to record incidents because they worry it will be used against them as “evidence” that they have behaviour issues in their lessons. When SLTs weaponise the behaviour system against staff instead of using it to monitor behaviour itself, the whole thing collapses. Teachers stop recording to protect themselves, and those who do record end up penalised. What SLT should do instead is use the data to understand what is happening, back their staff, and step in early, with the explicit goal of improving behaviour rather than criticising teachers.

Zero tolerance on unwanted behaviour only works when it is simple, consistent and supported. When a school builds its entire system around behaviour, it creates a school where behaviour becomes the main issue. The more energy a school pours into complex behaviour structures, the more behaviour dominates the culture.

And as for schools where children must walk silently in corridors, sorry, but not for me. That is not discipline; it is oppressive control. It does not educate students in any meaningful way, nor does it respect their need to communicate. This is my view, and I know others may disagree.

6. The Role of SLT

We all have to take our share in this, but Senior Leadership Teams play a crucial role in behaviour culture. Teachers cannot uphold standards alone; they need to be backed consistently if we want to squash this bad behaviour pandemic. Many SLT teams are exceptional, they set clear expectations, they support staff, they make behaviour a whole‑school responsibility. In schools where leadership is strong, behaviour follows.

But when that support is inconsistent or absent, everything falls apart. Teachers are left exposed, standards slip, and the whole system starts to crack under the pressure.

As teachers, we are sometimes guilty of not wanting to reach out for help, as if encountering behaviour issues somehow makes us “less” of a teacher. It does not. But that feeling is made worse when asking for support leads to being made to feel as though you “cannot control” your class.

Many of us have experienced lessons where teaching simply could not continue, so we used the on‑call system, only for an SLT member to arrive frowning and saying, “What is the problem? I do not really have time for this, I am in a meeting.” They remove a student, return them two minutes later, or ask you to provide work, leaving you thinking, “I do not have time for this. I am in a lesson.” That is if on‑call turns up at all. These situations are not rare. This is not SLT bashing; it is a reminder that a large part of their role is to support teachers, and no meeting should be scheduled when they are on‑call.

The way SLT handles situations is also crucial for change in the right direction. Teachers cannot be expected to justify themselves or be undermined in front of a child. Teachers should always be supported, whether in a conflict with a student or a parent. Conflict resolution is equally important, and the best examples come when SLT intervene early to prevent escalation, support staff in a positive way, and ensure appropriate mediation takes place. This may involve student sanctions or a simple oral or written apology. The truth is that as humans, we sometimes fall out, and the role of the school is also to teach young people how to deal with conflict.

What we can no longer tolerate is children pretending something happened when it didn’t, with the intention of getting a teacher in trouble or even sacked. Children are our most precious asset and should have rights, but false allegations against teachers are rising and they are symptomatic of a wider crisis: in some schools, children hold all the rights, and teachers carry all the duties.

The answer is not to strip children of their rights, nor to silence their voices; it is to restore balance and a culture where children are protected and listened to, but also where teachers are trusted, supported, and given fair consideration when concerns arise. Strong behaviour systems depend on both sides being safeguarded. Rights and responsibilities must sit together, not in opposition. So, we must not forget that children have responsibilities too, just as teachers have rights. This needs to be made crystal clear to children, with a strong signal from SLT that false allegations carry serious consequences. Without that clarity, teachers are left powerless and exposed. I know that in some schools, staff hesitate to apply sanctions as they should because they fear exactly this. That cannot continue. We need a culture where children understand their responsibilities, teachers feel protected, and everyone is held to fair, consistent standards.”

Not everything is doom and gloom. I have seen excellent practice: SLT popping their head into lessons in a positive, kind, supportive way, simply checking how things are going. We need far more of that, because this kind of visible, genuine support makes a real difference to staff wellbeing, even in schools we often label as tough. When teachers feel seen, backed and valued, the whole atmosphere shifts. Behaviour feels manageable, routines feel lighter, and the day‑to‑day work becomes sustainable rather than draining. In those schools, staff don’t feel embarrassed to discuss behaviour issues or share strategies, rather than facing the usual “they always behave for me” narrative which instantly shuts down any real discussion because it leaves you feeling inadequate. In improving schools, even tough ones, there are open and honest discussions and a positive culture around behaviour. No one is ashamed to say they had a tough lesson with 9B or that they had to send out a pupil. Maintaining high standards of behaviour is not easy, but it becomes far more achievable when the environment is open, supportive, and staff feel free to raise issues without being judged.

And I have also seen the opposite. A School in Special Measures trying to “fix” behaviour on paper: training staff, delivering stern assemblies, reading the riot act in week one. It works for a few days, until students realise nothing has actually changed. No sanctions. No follow‑through. No support. The same old patterns.

And when you see the Headteacher high‑fiving students in the corridor, you know the battle is already lost. In that school, it was by week two.

SLT’s go‑to solution is often training. As if teachers were not already trained. What teachers do not need is more behaviour training. They need behaviour systems that actually work.

The issue is not a lack of knowledge. Teachers know how to manage a classroom. They know routines, sanctions, praise, de‑escalation, restorative conversations, and everything in between. What they lack is consistency from above. No amount of CPD can compensate for an on‑call system that does not respond, sanctions that are not applied, or leadership that undermines staff in front of students.

Training becomes a convenient distraction and a way to imply the problem lies with teachers rather than with the structures that are supposed to support them. It is easier to run a twilight session than to enforce standards every day and follow through on consequences. Behaviour does not improve because teachers sit through another session, it improves because leadership sets expectations, backs staff, and ensures systems are followed.

Teachers do not need more behaviour training, they need behaviour leadership. And every strong SLT team in the country would agree with that. When SLT is strong, behaviour is strong. When SLT is inconsistent, behaviour becomes a negotiation.

So, SLTs require a lot from us, but it is not unreasonable to require that they:

• set clear expectations and lead by example

• support staff consistently

• back teachers publicly and privately

• ensure consequences are applied

• avoid shifting responsibility onto classroom teachers

7. The Role of Parents

Parents are central to any school’s behaviour culture, because what happens at home shapes what happens in the classroom. Teachers can set expectations, SLT can reinforce them, but without parental partnership the message becomes blurred. Children need consistency, they need the same boundaries echoed at home and at school, they need adults who work together rather than in parallel.

Most parents do this brilliantly. They communicate, they follow up, they support the school’s decisions, they teach their children that respect is non‑negotiable. When parents and schools pull in the same direction, behaviour improves quickly, because children see a united front.

Some parents struggle, often for understandable reasons, but the difficulty does not remove the responsibility. Schools cannot be the only place where children learn self‑control, accountability, and respect. If those lessons are not reinforced at home, teachers end up carrying the full weight, and that weight becomes unsustainable.

Finally, (and I don’t mean to offend anyone) there are some parents whose favourite hobby is complaining. They accuse schools of failing to support their child, they overwrite sanctions, they refuse to believe their child could ever misbehave, and as if they were experts in pedagogy themselves, they blame teachers for not being “able to control their class” or for supposedly lacking classroom strategies.

I once had the sister of a Year 11 pupil complain that I was too strict and did not understand her brother. He broke rules constantly, so I applied sanctions constantly, which meant he spent a lot of time in detention. She insisted I needed to review my teaching style and lower my expectations, essentially asking me to let him get away with disruptive behaviour. I was not prepared to do that, so I invited her to observe a lesson, she never came.

Another more recent incident happened while I was on long‑term supply. One girl disliked me from the start, probably because she was the only one who still wanted the chaos of repeated supply. I offered stability, the class responded well, she did not. She looked for confrontation at every opportunity. After missing one lesson, she returned saying “I don’t know what do”. I gave her the worksheet, offered suggestions, encouraged her to check another pupil’s book, but she escalated the situation deliberately until I had to call On‑call.

A few days later, the HoD relayed an incident from the Year 8 parents’ evening, which I had not attended. The girl’s mother had stormed in shouting, demanding to see me because I was “picking on her daughter.” I made it clear that it was out of the question for me to sit in a room with an aggressive parent questioning my professionalism, when the real issue was her lack of boundaries at home. Her daughter was rude, and she lacked the basic skills the rest of the class had. God knows what would have happened if I had been present at that parents’ evening.

These are only anecdotes, yet they are increasingly common. Situations like these are another blow to teachers, they make you question yourself, they undermine your work, and they take a toll on your mental health. When you are repeatedly forced to prove your ability to do your job to students, SLT, and parents, this is where burnout begins.

When adults challenge every decision, dismiss every concern, and undermine every boundary, the child learns to do exactly the same. Parents who do not trust the school or its teachers create a ripple effect, and that lack of trust erodes the behaviour culture faster than any single incident in a classroom.

Parents, teachers, and leaders share the same goal: children who can thrive. Behaviour is not a school problem, it is a community responsibility, and the strongest behaviour cultures are built when every adult plays their part.

For HoDs: What Worked for Us

In this post I wanted to share my views and experiences, but I couldn’t finish without offering a few practical strategies that worked well for me and my team. If you are lucky enough to work in a school where behaviour is not an issue, many of these strategies will already be familiar; in that case, treat them as approaches you may recognise from your strong behaviour practice. If, unfortunately, you are starting the year in a school where behaviour is failing, feel free to use some or all of them, experiment with them, refine them, and adapt them to your context. Some may not be possible depending on your school policy, but here they are:

What we all did as a team

1. Orderly class entry  

For me, this is key. You can feel a class’s energy before they walk in. If they are already sky‑high, good luck teaching them if they have not calmed down first. Expect the class to stand quietly (for me, silently) in a line outside the classroom. Greet each student as they walk in, and have them stand behind their chair. No talking.

2. Whole‑class Target Language routine  

Once everyone is standing behind their chair, greet the whole class in the Target Language. Students greet you back, then sit down. They have one minute to get ready.

3. Quality starter activity  

As soon as they are settled, they begin their starter. It should be self‑explanatory, based on prior knowledge, with an extra task for early finishers. In my opinion, it should take no longer than five minutes including corrections. If it is too long, it becomes the lesson.

4. The golden rule  

If someone is talking for the class (teacher or student), everyone listens.

This rule is often hard to establish, it takes time and determination, but any breach must carry a consequence if you want to tackle low‑level disruption. You are often told to write names on the board, three strikes, detention, yet with a particularly chatty class this eats into the lesson.

A better, and more cunning, alternative is to let students know you are keeping that record in your diary. Only you know how many ticks are there, and it is not to be discussed or challenged during the lesson.

When a student broke the rule, I gave a quick stare, ticked my diary without stopping teaching, and carried on. At the end, I applied the sanction to the main culprits. I knew exactly who they were, I did not need a detailed record. In fact, I was not keeping a record at all because it would have been too time‑consuming, but they believed it, and that belief was enough.

This simple system reinforces listening expectations, protects lesson flow, and keeps the teacher in control without constant interruptions.

5. Orderly class dismissal 

Students stand behind their chair before the bell. Check the room: paper or wrappers must be picked up or no one leaves. Dismiss students a desk at a time, with a Target Language farewell. Orderly dismissal matters; it keeps them calm and shows respect for the colleague greeting them next.

6. Zero tolerance on lack of equipment

Missing equipment cannot be overlooked; it is a major source of disruption. In my team, we introduced a simple hire‑or‑buy system. Controversial, yes (especially in a cost‑of‑living crisis) but every pen handed out and every sheet of paper replacing a forgotten book has a cost and puts pressure on an already tight budget.

Our approach made students accountable, reduced interruptions and worked surprisingly well.

What I did as HoD

• In my frees, I did one quick round of each colleague’s lesson at the start (just looking through the door) and one at the end.

• If students were kept behind at the end of the day, I stepped in to support staff when requested. Some colleagues with particularly difficult classes even asked me in advance to come in at the end and act as la sorcière (the witch). This usually involved me turning up with my Oscar‑winning stern look and boring them to death with a relentless reminder of expectations until the message finally landed.

• I was present for lesson transitions when possible (most of our classrooms were located in the same area).

• I made sure staff know where to find me.

• I encouraged staff to send me troublemakers rather than deal with them and risk escalation. There was always a seat free at the back of my classroom, and teachers did not need to provide work. Afterwards, I discussed the incident and agree on appropriate action.

• I made departmental detention time serious. I spoke with students to get to the bottom of the issue. Detentions shouldn’t be enjoyable, but they should be meaningful. I often used that time for written self‑reflection or other tedious tasks (the more boring, the better). When what happens in the detention is calm, structured, and mildly boring, students tend to decide that once was more than enough. What it shouldn’t become is an after‑school club where the rule breakers gather for a laugh.

• With difficult students, I created and used departmental reports to reinforce expectations, and give myself structured evidence to challenge recurring issues. .

• I created and used class reports to identify patterns, hold students accountable, and spotlight excellent behaviour so it never went unnoticed.

• This was a whole school strategy: a progressive departmental detention system: for example, 20 minutes with the teacher, one hour with the HoD for more serious or repeated behaviour.

• Where possible, I contacted parents. I know this is difficult in some schools, but it makes a difference.

• I refined our reward system (Student of the Month, certificates, stickers, letters home, etc) because rewarding positive attitude is just as important as calling out poor behaviour.

Final Thoughts

Behaviour isn’t a side issue, but there’s no quick fix; no assembly, no school motto, no rewritten policy magically resets it. What works is daily consistency, shared routines, departments pulling together, and SLT modelling the standards they expect. When that happens, behaviour improves and everything else follows.

We can’t treat low‑level disruption as harmless or expect teachers to negotiate every instruction. Staff need clarity, consistency and backing so they have the confidence to do the job they were trained to do: teach. Parents and communities matter too. When families reinforce expectations and work with staff, behaviour strengthens. Schools can’t build a positive behaviour culture alone; it takes everyone pulling in the same direction.

But behaviour doesn’t start or end in school. When national policy supports manageable class sizes, invests in pastoral and SEND capacity, and funds schools properly, expectations can be met; when it doesn’t, even the strongest systems are forced to work uphill.

This is the direction we move in: strong, united, consistent, properly funded practice that puts learning first, supported by a community that stands behind it.

🎁The old MFL reports we created are probably still sitting on a memory stick somewhere. I will try to locate them, maybe update them, and upload them to the Training and Development section of my website. Bear with me. Feel free to use, modify and improve them. If they save you even a little time, I am happy.

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