We are all familiar with the saying “Appearances can be deceiving.” But what does this really mean inside a classroom? Attitudes are deeply intertwined with perception. Quite often, people react not to who someone truly is, but to the assumptions made about them. Aggressive or disruptive behaviour, in particular, may conceal fragile underlying causes that easily escape our notice when first impressions dominate our judgment.
Consider the so-called troublemaker: the student who vents frustration during lessons, interrupting the flow of teaching and sometimes pushing the situation toward a confrontation between the figure of authority, the teacher, and the provocateur, the student. In such moments we are left wondering how to manage his disruption while maintaining our integrity and easing the tension in the room.
But wait a moment. Did we just label that student? And why did we assume it was a boy?
Societal norms are deeply ingrained in our upbringing and often transcend cultural boundaries. Boys, for example, are frequently stereotyped as disruptors of balance and challengers of authority. Yet such generalisations rarely reflect the full picture. One of the most common mistakes educators make is labelling their students.
A learner who craves attention, something they may be deprived of at home, might express this need in unconventional ways: disruption, teasing, inappropriate behaviour, or constant complaints.
“You always favour Mary instead of me!” one of my students exclaimed when I first began teaching. At the time, I had no idea he was experiencing domestic intimidation that deeply affected him. His attention span was limited not because he lacked interest, but because his thoughts were consumed by what awaited him when he returned home.
Initially, I interpreted his lack of participation as indifference. Only later did I realise how profoundly his circumstances were affecting his ability to engage. Once the root of the problem came to light, I regretted not having given him earlier opportunities to shine. Devoting personal time to support him, even during breaks, made a remarkable difference. Not only did his academic performance improve, but so did his overall mindset.
It was not about marks, although those improved as well. It was about creating a nurturing space where he could simply be himself and momentarily forget the challenges waiting beyond the classroom walls.
I am not being judgmental here. We all make mistakes. The saying “Live and learn” could easily be adapted in our profession to “Teach and learn.” After all, regardless of experience or identity, we remain students of life.
Speaking of mistakes, I recall a student from nearly two decades ago who had migrated due to war. When she was assigned to my class, school management described her as undisciplined, emotionally unstable, and disruptive. These labels, unsurprisingly, only deepened her distress and eventually pushed her to embody the identity imposed upon her.
From the moment she entered the classroom, she challenged my authority. At the time, I lacked both experience and training in managing such situations effectively. Instead of de-escalating the tension, I unintentionally fuelled it by reacting emotionally. My response gave her exactly what she was seeking: confrontation.
Such reactions rarely help. On the contrary, they escalate tensions, disrupt learning, and create an atmosphere of unease for everyone in the room. When situations become tense, emotional responses are natural. Yet it is precisely in these moments that teachers must regulate their reactions and postpone confrontation.
Neutral responses such as “I can see you’re frustrated” or “We’ll talk after the lesson” can buy valuable time. They help contain escalating behaviour, preserve classroom authority, and allow the lesson to continue. More often than not, by the end of the class emotions have subsided. Conversations during breaks frequently lead to explanations, apologies, and sometimes even requests for support.
And what about the students who remain silent? Those who hesitate to participate because they fear being ridiculed by their peers? Cultural differences, socioeconomic circumstances, or non-conforming identities may all play a role. Each case is unique and deserves our attention.
So, let me ask you, my fellow teachers: are these matters truly beyond our jurisdiction?
There is certainly a fine line between intervention and overstepping. Yet our role as educators extends beyond the delivery of knowledge. It also involves safeguarding the emotional wellbeing of our learners. When we witness signs of physical or emotional abuse, we have a responsibility to report them to the appropriate authority, usually the principal or director of studies.
Attitudes, however, are only part of the challenge. Many teachers also juggle multi-level classes of diverse learners grouped under a single CEFR label for administrative purposes. And what about the textbooks we use? Do they genuinely reflect our students’ realities and lived experiences?
These are only some of the challenges shaping a teacher’s daily reality. But you already know this, do you not? What you may truly be seeking are ways to ease the pressure and find direction.
And where better to begin than within your professional community: your trusted circle of colleagues? Training, collaboration, and the exchange of ideas can pave the way toward a more inclusive approach to teaching, one in which all learners are given equal opportunities to grow and thrive.
Just remember one thing: let go of the labels.
