Hugh Reilly: Iain Gray day for learning to deal with disruption

Published on Sunday 24 April 2011 16:08

Where are intimidating security men in sharp suits and sunglasses with one hand on a bulging breast pocket when you really need them?

Poor Iain Gray must have been asking that question when he strolled into Glasgow's Central Station for a photo-op, accompanied by my MSP, Paul Martin (the Fat Controller?) and Margaret Curran, MP.

With his experience of being in war zones - Rwanda, Cambodia, and Tranent High Street where, just last week, a wheelie bin was knocked over - he should have suspected that all was not well. For a start, railway staff standing in line to meet him were smiling. Without warning, a protester burst on scene shouting about cuts. In that Hollywood classic, The Bodyguard, ex-secret service agent Kevin Costner throws himself between an assassin's bullet and the rather shapely body of Whitney Houston.

Taking a bullet to ingratiate oneself with a sex symbol is one thing but I must admit Margaret Curran went beyond the call of duty by courageously placing herself between the demonstrator shooting his mouth off and Labour leader Gray. A song from The Bodyguard, Run To You, was an Academy Award nominee. Run To The Subway Sandwich Shop doesn't quite have the same ring.

I was surprised that the not-to-be next First Minister, an ex-teacher of all people, could not handle a disruptive individual. Councils have spent thousands of pounds of taxpayers' money providing in-service training to give Sir the necessary tools to deal with troubled souls.

For example, dominies are taught to respect the personal space of the teenager spewing invective in their direction. It is important that those on the receiving end of verbal abuse keep their arms by their sides to prevent the haranguer feeling any hint of physical threat. Should the teenager offer violence, the recommended default position is teacher-as-a-hedgehog.

Replying in kind by shouting into the face of a snarling adolescent who is destroying one's dignity in front of 30 pupils is unforgivable. Much better to speak in a soft voice to de-escalate the confrontation.

Admittedly, this technique requires a degree of patience, as your words may be a tad inaudible above the din of your parentage and sexual preference being loudly questioned.

The fashionable "traffic lights" system that allows kids to show their understanding of a topic (red = not a scooby, amber = unsure, green = yes, yes, I do understand but feel humiliated holding a green stick up) could be adapted to defuse conflict. When the demonstrator spoke of his disgust with the Labour party, Mr Gray could have smoothed troubled waters by pulling a green stick from his jacket pocket.

In my opinion, in terms of dealing with classroom incidents, it's horses for courses - and I don't mean shooting pupils if they break a leg.

A former pupil popped in to see me recently.She had been a nightmare to teach, always arriving late to class and immediately putting her head on the desk before I'd been afforded the opportunity to bore her. Unfailingly, she remembered to leave home with her mobile phone but my high expectation that she bring a pencil was rarely met.

Now older, obviously wiser, she laughed about the time she refused to leave the room and my startling reaction to her behaviour. Rather than lose my cool, I simply took the others out of the classroom and taught them next door, leaving her alone with her demons.

A rogue I had the misfortune to educate for three years turned up recently and confessed that my passive-aggressive silence had unnerved him. Learning to say little is difficult but knowing that your non-engagement is causing genuine unease in the mind of the enemy makes it all worthwhile.

Former pupils of mine will be aghast to discover that my use of sarcasm/unanswerable wit has somewhat diminished. Colleagues call it maturity, others call it greater self-analysis, but calls to the school by freaked-out parents of sensitive pupils are the real reason behind the change in my classroom behaviour.

With retirement on the horizon, believe me, I'm Buddha on a banana leaf floating down the Ganges.