My teacher anxiety dream goes a little something like this… There are children running around the room, throwing things, and screaming. They are not listening to anything I have to say.

I panic.

I freeze.

Uh oh.

In my early primary teaching days I sometimes felt a little like I do in my dream. I thought I was supposed to be an authority figure in order to have a happy (and dare I say it, compliant!) classroom. My ‘one size fits all’ approach at the time set unrealistic goals for the children I taught, and because I solely focused on their behaviour rather than attempting to understand that their actions and reactions were due to unmet needs, meant I became stressed out and anxious. If I couldn’t ‘control’ my class it must mean I’m a failure and surely my colleagues are labelling them as uncontrollable, right?

When things went pear shaped, I panicked. I absorbed the chaos, reacted with lots of grumpy teacher vibes and made things worse. The children then went on to absorb my anxiety leading to an environment filled with frustration and uncertainty. If only I had realised what I know now. If only I had focused on connection, then maybe I wouldn’t have felt like I was in some giant game of ‘tug of war’. Maybe I’d be able to see what was happening before it exploded. Maybe I’d be able to read between the lines and understand what the children were feeling, and maybe I would have reacted differently. Putting the ‘if onlys’ and ‘maybes’ aside, at the end of the day the problem wasn’t necessarily about what the children were doing, but rather what I wasn’t doing. What I was yet to understand was that this controlling approach (which was often repackaged as the ‘firm but fair teacher, who only yells when they have to’ ) created distance between myself and the children. Having a need to control the learning environment can negatively affect a child’s sense of belonging and identity. What it’s more likely to do is create an unwelcoming space for them.

Belonging. Identity.

These words never really entered my vocabulary until I began studying and teaching in an early childhood setting. This is where I learnt the importance of taking a step back, and carefully observing the whole child. What are they trying to tell me? What are they developmentally ready for? What is happening in their world right now? How can I challenge them whilst also supporting them to experience success? Who do I need to be for them? When I began to ask these questions and understand the concept of belonging and identity, I realised that I was more than a teacher standing out the front and telling them what to do… and as it turns out, I’m not that person at all.

I am here to stand alongside them.

I am here to listen.

I am here to observe.

I am here to guide.

To guide a child is to collaborate and work with them, not against them. It’s learning to have conversations rather than arguing to prove a point. It’s using questions like “What makes you feel that way?”, “What do you need to succeed?” and “What can I do to help?”. Guidance encourages children to be themselves. It allows them have choices and make decisions that meet their needs, and yes, sometimes they’ll make mistakes. That’s okay. Guiding children from a connection based approach isn’t a free for all. There should always be clear guidelines and boundaries in place that everyone understands, as well as knowing that they have the freedom to question, challenge and contribute. A child’s input should always be valued, supported and listened to.

As I think about those early days I sometimes cringe about the way I handled things or how I responded to a child who was struggling. It wasn’t that I was trying to be unkind, I was just stressed out and confused because of who I thought I was supposed to be in that environment. Over time I have learnt more about the type of teacher I need to be for the children I educate, the importance of accepting my failures and reflecting upon them, as well as taking risks, challenging myself and always evolving. That’s the best part. We should always be ready to learn new ways of being and doing as teachers. Each year, term, month or day may be completely different from the last. We cannot be the same teacher, with the same expectations and approaches, or respond with ‘…well that’s just how it’s always been done’. Every group of children, each child and every experience is unique, and therefore our approach should be too.

One day I hope my teacher anxiety dream fades into the background before disappearing all together, I’d even settle for a dream where the children are still running around, screaming and throwing things but in this dream they know that I am here, that I understand and that I’ll always wait for them in case they need me. I know I am becoming the teacher I was always meant to be. One who guides and connects… Although, let’s be honest… I’ll still get a little bit panicky every now and then (probably when a child is climbing a tree!), and that’s okay, because we’re human after all.