I don’t know about you, but there was no such thing as “mindfulness” when I was a high-school student. No teachers talked to me about yoga, or meditation, or managing stress. One of the things I found difficult when I started teaching was offering pastoral care to students who needed help managing stress. I knew what I did to manage stress (time-out, exercise, meditative hobbies such as art), but these aren’t applicable to everyone and furthermore, I was never trained as a part of my undergrad in how to help students manage stress. It’s something you learn through observing other practitioners, through conversations with students, through experience. Basically, it’s something you learn on the job. It’s been a particularly difficult learning curve for me, not only because I am a “tough love” sort of personality, but because there is a real culture difference between Australia and the UK, and this translates into nearly all aspects of teaching. Students in the UK are on a whole, a lot less independent and needier, and they’re unfortunately among the most tested students in the world and among the unhappiest. They also start secondary school at a younger age than Australian students, meaning that they’re 11 in year 7 and therefore a whole lot less equipped to deal with some of the emotional challenges facing them. It’s been a real challenge for me in a lot of ways, particularly when it comes to catering to the needs of 11 and 12 year olds, who are the equivalent of primary students in Australia and thus weren’t a part of my undergrad training!
The GCSE is the particularly stressful year, and in the season just passed (where I’m proud and relieved to say that all my year 11 students English students passed their exams- good work, kids) it became a daily ritual to manage students’ anxiety attacks, emotional breakdowns, panicked emails and phone calls from parents, and every other little thing you can imagine. In these crisis moments, teachers become a crutch for students (and sometimes far-too-involved parents), an emotional sponge absorbing vents, tears…or more serious/legal level, we must find interventions for students who are too stressed to come to class, or who have various mental illnesses. There’s been a lot of news coverage recently about the mental health crisis among young people in the UK, and some really shocking statistics:
- 3 children in every classroom have a diagnosable mental health disorder
- 1 in 5 young adults have a diagnosable mental health disorder
- Half of all mental health problems manifest by the age of 14, with 75% by age 24
- Almost 1 in 4 children and young people show some evidence of mental ill health (including anxiety and depression)
- In 2015, suicide was the most common cause of death for both boys (17% of all deaths) and girls (11%) aged between 5 and 19.
- 1 in 12 young people self-harm at some point in their lives, though there is evidence that this could be a lot higher. Girls are more likely to self-harm than boys.
I don’t believe that it’s enough to “treat” students after the diagnosis, so to speak. I’m always looking for ways to support students, but the better and more proactive approach to pastoral care is to equip them with the right emotional tools to manage themselves and their own needs.
I’m currently trialling a method with a new year 11 student, who hasn’t yet been diagnosed, but who we suspect might have ADHD. She is often in trouble for lateness, needing to go to the toilet repeatedly during class, falling asleep, not paying attention. All of these are actions she can’t quite regulate in herself, but unfortunately is still sanctioned for. We’re currently working on careful planning and creation of routines, which will hopefully help her feel more in control, but the challenge of restructuring her thinking about school is the next hurdle. She is unmotivated and feels dreadfully unhappy, often missing school entirely due to anxiety and depression. As both her English teacher and pastoral form tutor, I want her to succeed, so this is what I’m trialling.
It’s a small thing for starters, but I want to introduce some mindful thinking for this student. Action for Happiness is a not-for-profit organisation which has a whole bunch of great resources geared at fostering happiness, mindfulness, resilience, and community-mindedness. I particularly love their “kindness calendars” that promote setting a mindful intention at the beginning of each day, and which remind students to check in with how they’re feeling, to set emotional goals, to forgive themselves, and to generally creative positive habits of mind. Check out the September one- I have it printed on my desk at work. I’m going to ask my student to reflect with me at the end of each week how she thought about these positive intentions each day, and where she was able to wield this kind of thinking in challenging circumstances. It’s a trial. We’ll see how it goes!
Other really helpful links from Action for Happiness are:
This kind of intentionality is still new to me, and a lot of adults I’m sure. While it’s no quick fix for mental health, it is something I wish I had as a teenager, when my hormones and rationality didn’t always shake hands, and the overwhelming responsibility of a schooling career was juggled by my developing maturity and identity crisis. It might be a small thing, but I think it’s a positive step in the direction of self-regulation and developing emotional intelligence. And don’t we all need more of that?
Tess Moon 