The sound of silence

Today, during the remembrance service, there was silence.

It was a joy to behold.

Having worked as the Head of School for 18 months with the starting point of 'Special Measures', silence was a rarity. In between staff managing low level behaviour (the whispering, the clicking, the rocking, the silly noises, the calling out, and so on) and the teachers filling the air with constant (and relentless) positive  praise, it had become a wall of sound. A place in which silence meant something was wrong. The sharp intake of breath that meant something awful had happened, the split second of fearful calm, before the inevitable storm.

Our team have worked incredibly hard to consistently and calmly implement a robust and simple behaviour plan. The drip, drip, drip of the same routines, the same structure, the same outcomes. Boring? Yes. Repetitive? Yes. Effective? Yes.  Our aim is to make every child feel like an equal, based on mutual respect and fairness. Children that struggled? We provided them the tools and strategies to meet our expectations.

Today, the silence wasn't just a school that was participating in an order of service to remember and respect our soldiers, both past and present. It was a school full of pupils that could finally give respect to themselves and others, willingly.  Pupils that could finally understand that silence isn't just about conformity, but an opportunity to reflect, embrace, consolidate and give space to their own thoughts.