Years 7, 8 and 9 had a theme day at school today. They were split into four groups, and spent the day taking turns to visit the four “themed” rooms. This year the theme was countries: France, Japan, England and Zimbabwe.

I was, of course, involved in the organisation of England. This involved preparing tea, toast and marmalade, and showing an episode of Fawlty Towers.

Had we have had more than 60 minutes per group, there were more humourous itmes planned (English humour being the theme within a theme), but even with the shortened schedule, we seemed to have succeeded in sending away the children happy.

In the corridor there was talk of the day’s event, and I overheard a couple of times how the English offering was best. I gladly take credit for the idea, though the actual ingredients (sugar and brilliant comedy) are always a recipe for success among young adults.

We never forgive those who make us blush – Jean Francois De La Harpe

I happened to be taking a group of first-years back to their classroom today when a mother of one of the girls came to talk to her. I thought I’d earn some brownie points, and explain to the mother that this particular pupil was very good at English (which she is) and works well (she does).

All I got from the mother was a half-shocked look and a gesture that implied she did not understand me, so I asked one of the other girls in the class to come and help translate. I was determined to let her know just how good her daughter was.

The lady’s shock became understandable when she informed me that she was the girl’s sister. Her shock became my embarrassment, which increased exponentially when she also told me she was also a pupil in the same school I work in. This means she is between twelve and fifteen years old.

In my defence, this girl began last year, when I was on paternity leave, and I do not have classes 7-9 any more. She wears a shawl, like many of the girls, and is not one of the boisterous pupils.

It’s an ice-breaker, though, providing she doesn’t take offence at my blunder.

My ‘sit back and wait’ approach took a turn for the worse today. Two children in Class 3 (who have a propensity for disturbing, taking control and drawing others into their little world) did what they are very good at, completely disrupting the majority of the lesson.

I expected the other, better-behaved, children to take it upon themselves and put these two in their place, but most of them just seemed resigned to the situation. This may have been my fault, scince I’d told them to ignore any stupid behaviour.

I’m trying to take a hands-off approach, hoping that the children can become a self regulating entity. I know this may take a long time, and may not even work; I need to come up with a solution so as not to lose the trust of those who are well-behaved.

This degradation happened in half-group English. The previous lesson we had together was with the whole class, where the self-regulation appeared to work. Was this due to the number of well- versus ill-behaved children being larger? Can peer pressure really be the solution to the problem? This is, in effect, what I am relying on.

In my school there is a room downstairs, which I have alway thought to be a store-room, that is actually meant for Friday prayer for the Muslim kids, meaning pretty much all of them. They refer to this space as the “Qur’an teaching-room”, which is definitely not its purpose. Since it is used during school-time, and time has been set aside (and teaching schedules re-organised) for prayer time, the idea that it could be used as an instructional aid annoys me.

One of the children has reportedly claimed he was (probably due to bad behaviour) recently pushed to the floor by an adult – not a teacher, I hasten to add.

If this is true, and there are witnesses who have come forward to back up the claim, it is yet another instance of violence towards children that the Muslim community seem to condone as much as condemn. I am not saying that non-Muslims are without blame in this matter, but the general attitude to such events from other Muslims in the school is alarmingly blasé.

I should very much like to experince life in a Swedish school, to see if the attitude is as saddening as it is in mine.

In my Class 2 English class there is a boy who, by all accounts, is a real tearaway: a total disregard for manners, rules, other people ad infinitum. No amount of imposing one’s authority seems to have the desired effect, but the threat of a letter home to his parents literally shakes him up.

This made me suspect, along with his behavioiur in school, that something is awry; this inkling has been strengthened by a plea from the boy to another teacher, who had threatened to take the same form of action, because it would lead to a beating or kicking from the father.

Assuming that there is truth in the boy’s claim, which one must is such cases, the letter home has been abandoned for a more humanitarian approach to solving the dilemma, and one which I personally favour.

So, in the true Taoist way of dealing with things, I am now trying to appeal to the boy’s more sensitive side, giving him cuddles, talking to him about things he/I like (videogames, of course) and trying to engage him in English lessons more. I do not expect this to solve the problem, but already he has shown me a much calmer side that I knew existed.

I reckon it’s about time I tried out a few different and peaceful methods of conciliating the unrest present in my school. I have no idea how long I have left, since the headmaster/mistress are on the constant hunt for getting rid of employees they simply cannot afford, so I may as well make the most of it, and gain some personal insight into the mindset of unruly pupils.