How the troublemaker saves the classroom

Passionata - Music lessons make the difference

For years, I have been collecting good phrases that I incorporate into my teaching language. When I hear a colleague give me an assignment that gets to the point, I add the choice of words to my repertoire.

I use one such trouvaille, for example, when distributing materials. I ask the children: «If I put the box of shakers out for you to help yourselves, will you pounce on them like lions? In that case, would you prefer me to distribute the instruments?». Depending on the group, the answer is a grinning: «Better give us the shakers one by one» or a confident: «We can take one peacefully». Either way, the atmosphere remains good and the lesson keeps flowing, as the children feel that they are being listened to and take responsibility for their actions.

A new sentence was added at a further training course at the school. The day was dedicated to the topic of «traumatised children». Refusals, outbursts or conflicts between children are part of everyday pedagogical life in primary school and of course also in music lessons. The reasons for a child's behaviour are varied and not always known to us. The more overwhelmed we are in such a situation, the more energy it costs.

The speaker's presentation that day was valuable. It was a trauma pedagogue who not only presented theoretical knowledge, but also examples from her work that were close to ours. In one of the reports from the trauma pedagogue's practice, a child demonstratively threw all his things off the desk. The expert chose the following words: «I don't know why you did that, but I would be happy if you continued working on your paper now».

We are in the same boat

This way of reacting appealed not only to me, but also to some of the team, and we used the phrase in class without prior consultation. When we realised this weeks later and shared the episodes over lunch, it was a nice moment of relaxation. Because we realised that we were all in the same boat and sometimes struggle when we don't react appropriately in difficult moments.

But by telling various «I don't know why you did that, but I would be happy if ...» -stories, we were able to get to the heart of the whole issue with appreciation for the children and a pinch of humour, without the need for a case discussion. The team simply understood each other and that gave me strength to continue working that day.

One morning, I couldn't manage the sentence. It was a grey November day that called for a magical moment in class. I still had electric rechaud candles from the previous year and placed them in a drum. White and blue cloths surrounded and covered the surprise in an atmospheric way.

I was looking forward to seeing the beaming faces when a child was about to unveil the candles and I would sing the song «Hambani Kahle - the light illuminates the night». The children came in and sat excitedly around the installation. I ceremoniously lowered the shutters at the touch of a button, the secret was revealed and I started playing the ukulele.

The children were startled by my reaction. There was absolute silence.

Getting round the bend

And then there was a crash at the back by the window sill. I spontaneously thought of Reto* as the culprit, because the boy hardly ever managed a lesson without a massive disturbance. But Reto was sitting next to me. It was Miguel who was rummaging in the pencil box and threw something down. Why didn't he realise how he was disturbing the mood with his noise? And anyway, why didn't he sit like everyone else in a circle around the candles, which were fluttering around their last bit of battery? I got loud. «I can't understand why you're doing this!» I heard myself shout. The children were startled by my reaction. There was absolute silence.

«Erm, I can understand why he's doing that,» Reto said, looking at me with an explanatory look, as if he wanted to tell me the solution to a maths problem. This sentence made Matti, the head of the class and Reto's friend, laugh out loud. From the bottom of his heart. And I and the whole group laughed along with him.

Because, as in the team room, we understood the situation thanks to the right words: the person who was usually the boss when it came to disrupting the class showed his expert knowledge on the subject and also his solidarity with another child. Reto managed to turn the corner and no-one was left out. We regrouped around the lights and sang together: «Hambani Kahle, the light illuminates the night.»

*Thenames of the children have been changed by the editors.