Secret Teacher: a counselling course revolutionised my teaching

Almost 16 years ago I entered the teaching profession on a wave of passion and enthusiasm; I was going to change the world. For my first post I chose to apply to a school advertised as being in challenging circumstances. I wanted to make a difference to the most disadvantaged children in society and the goal was a classroom full of happy, thriving children.

As you can imagine, I quickly realised this was going to be extremely tough, and not something I would achieve on my own. However, in those early days there was a lot of support available to schools.

Early Help services were very proactive and came into schools regularly to ask how they could assist. There was a strong focus on intervention before situations escalated and children and families reached crisis point. As teachers, we were able to give low-level daily emotional support and focus on teaching. We liaised with outside agencies and they came in and gave a greater depth of support to families who needed it.

But over the past few years, this outside support has slowly ebbed away. Cuts across the board have taken their toll and over time we have found that services we could previously call upon no longer exist. As support has decreased, the need for it has increased. Reported safeguarding concerns have rocketed, according to figures released by the Department for Education. In fact, the number of children subject to section 47 inquiries (likely to be suffering significant harm) almost doubled between 2010 and16.

The tipping point came for me last year while working in a senior role. The term had been particularly hard, with numerous child protection cases being monitored. I held many meetings with parents where I felt more like a counsellor or social worker than school leader. I was out of my depth and didn’t have the skills or training to give this level of support.

When a child’s parent died and I was unable to find a bereavement counsellor to come into school to give her therapy, I felt that I had failed this child.

With the realisation that specialist support was no longer available, I decided to become the support myself. I enrolled on a part-time counselling course to give me greater confidence in assisting families in crisis. What I discovered changed the way I viewed my role and profession entirely.

First and foremost, teachers use counselling skills every day. We don’t know we’re doing it and don’t realise there’s a name for much of what we do, so we just do our thing in an ad-hoc manner. For example, when we sit down with a child after an incident and discuss their behaviour, we often look at what happened in the lead up to the event to cause it, and how the child could respond differently next time: that’s a basic form of cognitive behavioural therapy.

Every theory and new approach I learned about had lightbulbs popping in my head. There were so many parallels with teaching, and so much potential for applying this in the classroom.

With a fresh injection of enthusiasm, I enrolled on a full counselling qualification course and then returned to teaching. Armed with a new awareness and curiosity about the impact a therapeutic approach to teaching could have, I set about using my recently acquired skills at school. I began by creating an environment that felt safe, where effort, perseverance and making mistakes were celebrated. I work extra hard on building those essential relationships and I model getting it wrong all the time.

In the past, when addressing poor behaviour, I would have followed school policy, given sanctions consistently and then carried on, expecting the child to just put it behind them and move on, too. With greater awareness of the importance of empathy, I now try to put myself in their position every time. How does it feel to be them after an incident such as this?

I also set aside time one-to-one with them, explaining that I really care about them and that this is why I am worried about their behaviour. It has led to children explaining in great depth how they are feeling. Trust and strong bonds have been created, and when children begin to talk about their emotions, I have the skills to open them up, rather than unwittingly close them down.

Self-care is also a vital component of being an effective therapeutic teacher (this is admittedly something I am still working on). Teachers rarely seem to make the time to calm and recharge the batteries. After reaching near-burnout last year, my mantra is now: “If you want to give light to others, you have to glow yourself” (Thomas S Monson).

There are undoubtedly children and families who still require additional support that can’t be given in the school setting. It is unrealistic and grossly unfair to expect a teacher to do the job of a trained counsellor. Apart from the fact that it’s not a teacher’s job, bereaved and traumatised children or those with significant mental health issues need and deserve expert professional support.

If we could – through teacher training providers and school in-service training days – train teaching staff, student teachers and support staff in a therapeutic approach (not training them as counsellors), we may achieve some early intervention success and avert some crises. Perhaps it is time that the government, local authorities and initial teacher training providers took note; a little investment in basic training at this level could save thousands further down the line.

My counselling training – much as I love it – was expensive and my family have made too many sacrifices to enable me to do it. However, with budget cuts deepening, perhaps we do have to take matters into our own hands?

For my classroom, the training has led to stronger relationships, powerful conversations and positive changes in behaviour. Children who had struggled with extremes of behaviour in other settings are thriving. And me? Well, I’ve got my mojo back because I’m making a difference again.

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