What if the behaviour is not the problem?

This week, I had to think back to a visit to a school in Denmark that we support through allLearners.

At this school, learners work one day a week on a project they have chosen themselves. During one of our visits, a teacher came to us and said something like:

“I don’t understand it. That boy over there has been working so passionately on his project for weeks. But today something has changed.”

He had suddenly started taking very long toilet breaks. At one point, he was even outside playing basketball instead of working on his project. His tasks were lying around unfinished. The teacher had corrected him several times, but it didn’t seem to work. The boy simply found something new to do, and then had to be corrected again.

I think many educators will recognise this. A learner shows behaviour that disturbs us, distracts others, breaks the rhythm, or goes against what we agreed. And before we know it, we are correcting the behaviour.

“Come back inside.”

“Get back to work.”

“Stop walking around.”

“Focus on your project.”

And sometimes that is necessary. I don’t want to pretend that behaviour never needs to be addressed. But the risk is that we start treating the behaviour as the problem, while the real problem sits somewhere underneath it.

That is why I appreciated this teacher so much. He did not just keep correcting. He came to us and asked for help. That takes professionalism, because analysing behaviour is not easy. Especially when you are close to the situation yourself. Sometimes you are too close to see what is actually happening.

So we asked him: “Since when have you seen this behaviour?”

He said: “Since today.”

We asked again: “Can you be more specific?”

He thought for a moment. “Since this morning.”

We asked one more time: “Even more specific?”

Then he paused.

“Since he arrived at school… no, wait. Since I told everyone they have to present their project to the whole class next week.”

And there it was.

Not the whole answer yet, but the beginning of one.

After speaking with the learner, it became clear that he was terrified of presenting in front of the whole class. Not a little nervous. Really scared. And what do people do when they are scared?

They freeze.

They flee.

They fight.

They do many things, but usually they do not calmly continue working on a project with joy, focus, and ownership.

That moment changed the conversation completely. The teacher realised that his announcement, although well-intended, had not lifted the learner to a higher level. It had slowed him down. The project itself was still meaningful to the learner. The motivation was still there. The quality of his work was still growing. But the idea of presenting it to the whole class had placed so much pressure on him that he started escaping the situation.

So the question changed. Not: “How do we make him behave?” But: “How could he show what he has learned next week in a way that does not overload him, and still helps him grow?”

That is a very different conversation.

Maybe he could present to one peer first. Maybe he could explain his work to the teacher. Maybe he could make a short video. Maybe he could invite two learners he trusts. Maybe the whole-class presentation is not the next step, but a future step. Something we build towards through successful experiences.

And maybe next week did not need to be about presenting a finished result at all, but simply about sharing where he was in the process. The learner himself felt there was still much more to explore and improve in the project. Maybe the timing was simply not right yet.

Because when we observed his work, we could clearly see growth. He was thinking. Making. Improving. Struggling productively. Asking better questions. Taking ownership. That is where the real development was happening.

And if that growth is already visible in the work, we do not need to force one particular format to prove it.

Not yet.

This does not mean learners should never learn to present. Of course they should. Presenting can be powerful. Sharing your work can build confidence, competence, and pride. But confidence rarely grows through being pushed straight into panic. It grows through experiences that are challenging enough to stretch you, but safe enough to stay in.

That is what this moment reminded me of. We often see behaviour first, because behaviour is visible. It interrupts the flow. It asks for our attention. But behaviour is not always the place where the real issue lives.

So before we act, it helps to ask a few better questions.

What might have caused this?

What changed in the circumstances?

Did I observe long enough?

Am I correcting the symptom, or responding to the need?

And do I need someone else to help me see what I am missing?

Because this is one of the hardest things in daily practice. I find it difficult too. It is so easy to correct behaviour quickly. And sometimes, honestly, it feels good. It gives us the feeling that we are doing something. That we are restoring order. That we are back in control.

But control is not always support.

Sometimes the real professional move is to slow down, look again, and ask one better question before we act.

So maybe this week, when someone’s behaviour starts to irritate you, pause for a moment. Not forever. Just long enough to ask yourself:

What if this behaviour is not the problem?

What if it is a signal?

And what if my next intervention should not start with correction, but with curiosity?

Good luck,

Rob