What should you do if a pupil is being difficult?

Passionata – Music lessons make all the difference

Whenever I come across anger and insults in social media comments, I often recall a remark by the writer James Baldwin. He suggested that people cling so stubbornly to their hatred because they sense that once the hatred is gone, they will have to face the pain.

As a teacher, my hope for all my pupils is that they will not grow up to be the sort of people who bombard others with hateful messages. But insults, and even humiliation, are also common among children.

When we make music together, I often see how children come to terms with their own pain.

The reasons behind such behaviour are complex. In the classroom, I have repeatedly seen how children suddenly come to terms with their own pain, particularly when making music together. These are therapeutic moments in which we as teachers are challenged and sometimes overwhelmed.

I was once called in to a Year 6 class that was divided and difficult to manage. Two music lessons in split classes formed part of an action plan to improve the situation. Some of the children had been in my basic music classes years earlier. I knew others because they had caused trouble at school. Flynn* was one of the latter group.

A Cry for Love

In the first music lesson, the twelve-year-old greeted me with a brief nod over his shoulder. No handshake and not a word. «I'm looking forward to making music with you over the next few weeks…» I began my welcome to the class, when Flynn interrupted me: «You prefer the children you know from before to the others anyway!»

I paused for a moment and found myself dwelling on the wording of his remark: that I preferred certain children. Although meant as a criticism, I took it as a compliment – a sign that I cared for the children at my music school. In that moment, I took Flynn into my heart, with his cry for love. That was my salvation, for a difficult initial phase followed.    

Chants from the world of children

We stood in a circle and I placed a sheet of paper in the middle with the words «This is us and so much more» printed on it. We repeated the phrase together and came up with body percussionto match the rhythm of the words :clapping, snapping, stamping and other body sounds. Flynn dismissed every suggestion: with disparaging words, gestures or mocking laughter. I wouldn't stand for that. We had a row, after which Flynn stood to one side for the rest of the warm-up.    

Flynn was aware of the pattern he used to mask his problems, and he wasn't proud of it. He didn't want to constantly put others down.

Next, I asked the class: «Who are you? How would you describe yourselves? What are your specialities?» For a moment, no one spoke up. «We're goodat gaming,» piped up Flynn from the back, and we immediately replied in a chant: «We're good at gaming, we're good at gaming…» We wanted to emphasise this rhythm with body percussion sounds as well.

«Shut up!»

Flynn came back into the circle and was almost unstoppable. From «We want a kebab» to «He's such a p*ss-up», we all joined in, singing along to Flynn's off-the-cuff remarks. There was music and laughter, yet the atmosphere remained tense. For Flynn dominated the group, who obeyed him without a murmur of protest.

To break this deadlock, I actively sought out ideas from the others. Flynn immediately ridiculed the first suggestion. That's when Katarina* lost her temper: «Shut your mouth!» she hissed, whereupon Flynn became abusive and left the room. In the corridor, he sat down on the bench and immediately shut everyone out: «Leave me alone, I hate you all.»

After the lesson, I sat down beside him and told him how much his ideas had contributed to the music. He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. I asked him to give the others more space next time. He lifted his head, closed his eyes and replied, «I don't think I can do that.”  

An environment that supports self-regulation

At that moment, it became clear that there was something behind his behaviour that couldn't be resolved that Friday evening on the changing room bench. Flynn was aware of the pattern he used to mask his problems, and he wasn't proud of it. He didn't want to constantly put others down. In search of a setting that suited him, he suggested groups of three or four people. He believed he would be better able to control himself in such a setting.

In the next lesson, we decided with the class that the children could split into small groups and set themselves a task.

A moment of revelation with Rossini's *William Tell*

Flynn and two other lads carried xylophones into the empty room next door. They wanted to recreate the music from their computer games. I liked the idea and suggested they put together a quiz where you had to match a tune to the right game.

When I visited the group in the adjoining room at half-time, I was treated to a wonderful sight: three teenagers were kneeling on the floor, playing Rossini's *William Tell* Overture on xylophones . They only knew the music from video games and were amazed when I played them the original and explained that it was an opera over 200 years old.

A week later, the groups presented their creations. During the presentations, Flynn sat in his chair with his arms crossed, looking every bit the Broadway director at a casting. He kept a straight face and, much to my relief, refrained from making any comments.

When it was his group's turn with the xylophones, Flynn explained that they hadn't managed to finish the melody quiz. Instead, they performed the «William Tell» theme rather poorly and asked me to play the overture, performed by the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra, on YouTube. «It's got 15 million views,» the boys told me as I switched on the projector.

The Tamed Rebel

Flynn was absolutely blown away by the conductor Myung-Whun Chung and the minimal gestures he used to lead the huge orchestra. «Look how cool he looks standing there, just holding his hand at an angle!» he remarked, mimicking the posture and gaze of the Korean star conductor.

As we were saying goodbye at the end of the lesson, I told Flynn how much I'd appreciated the fact that he'd watched the other groups attentively and allowed them to have a lovely moment. He then turned round triumphantly and shouted: «Did you hear that, Katarina? I kept my mouth shut!» We all had to laugh. And even if the statement lacks literary flair, I think Baldwin would have been pleased.

*The children's names have been changed by the editors.