wattWhen headteacher Alan Streeter arrived at Beacon High School in Islington, north London, in 2018, the whole place felt “very tense”. Violence is a serious problem, with 300 suspensions a year, and staff struggle to get it under control.

Street, the school’s fifth headteacher in three years, faces “the strongest anti-school sentiment” he has encountered in three decades of working in London’s public schools.

“There are more kids in the hallways than in the classrooms,” he said. “Parents don’t want their kids here.”

Six years have passed, but there is an unexpected calm atmosphere in the school. Students, mostly from three nearby poor housing estates, said it was no longer scary.

But instead of expelling anyone deemed disruptive, Street ushered in an era in which “everyone was involved.” Last year the number of suspensions was reduced to 25 and only one child was permanently excluded, with the sanctions being a last resort for staff after all other options have been tried.

The school is not alone in embracing this philosophy. This month, the Violence Reduction Unit (VRU) set up by London Mayor Sadiq Khan announced a new inclusion charter asking schools across the capital to stem the tide of regular and permanent expulsions.

There is a clear correlation between children with a history of suspension or exclusion and violence.

VRU director Lib Peck said children out of school were twice as likely to carry a knife. “They may be involved in gangs or exploitation. They may just think a knife will make them safer. We know that puts them at greater risk.”

There is also evidence that children who are excluded from school are more likely to commit crime as adults. One in every two people in prison was excluded as a child, according to research by the Institute for Public Policy think tank.

Attempts to reduce exclusions have been met with some fierce criticism. These include the British government’s own conduct czar, Tom Bennett, an outspoken supporter of tough discipline and corridors of silence.

Last summer, he was in ” audience Regarding Khan’s desire to reduce exclusion, he declared: “London’s schools are about to become less safe.”

Streeter is quick to point out that his schools were far less safe when suspension rates were very high. He described Bennett’s comments as “the kind of evidence-free rhetoric you hear from people who don’t actually teach in schools.”

Street was adamant that he was not “soft” on discipline and fully expected young people to follow the rules. When visiting schools, he often stopped teenagers with “blazers.” Or: “Where should you be?”

In the pastoral area, four young people who had been sent out of class for three days were in a “refocusing” room. Such rooms are common in “zero-tolerance” schools, which tend to have high suspension and expulsion rates.

In some of the most rigorous academies chains, as students climb the so-called “behavioral ladder,” the time spent withholding increases, leading to periods of time in segregation rooms where they sit and work all day in cubicles facing a wall. or perform tasks such as this. Like silently copying dictionary definitions.

The rooms at Beacon High School are intentionally designed to be more joyful and less punitive. The walls are covered with colorful artwork. Students were in the classroom doing the work they were supposed to do in class, but this morning they were sitting at a table in the middle discussing a book that room coordinator Amanda O’Connor was reading to them.this book is Holea graphic novel about a desolate children’s correctional training camp in the Texas desert.

The two boys sheepishly admit that they were sent here because of a fight. A girl grabbed a teacher’s arm. O’Connor interjected: “We’re not going to catch you and you’re not going to catch us – you know that.”

They both agreed they didn’t want to come here again anytime soon “because it’s so boring”. They want to get back to the playground and hang out with their friends.

One charge against anti-exclusion policies is that they undermine everything for non-disruptive children who want to learn. But the school’s GCSE results have been climbing steadily, from what Streeter described as “absolutely terrible” in 2017 to now just below the national average (a milestone he believes they will reach within a year).

That’s important to him, but he’s also frustrated that no one is judging his students based on how far they’ve come individually. A quarter of them have special educational needs, which are unusually high.

Street said some people were so far behind at the end of primary school that it was a huge achievement when they achieved a grade 3 in GCSE (the equivalent of a D in the previous grading system). “The system tells them they failed, and that’s painful,” he said. “We have to make sure they succeed in other ways.”

For many, he said, this meant learning the social skills they needed, like passing GCSE. Students who are unable to complete GCSEs can study horticulture.

There is a garden on the roof of Beacon High School in memory of Ben Kinsella, a 16-year-old student at the school who was stabbed to death by a teenager in 2008. When Street arrived, this “peace garden” had been abandoned and forgotten. Now it’s thriving again, with chickens wandering between the beds.

“Often, bad behavior is the child saying, ‘Pay attention to me, help me,’” Street said. When his staff conducted trauma education training, they learned that one in four young people had experienced trauma. Streeter considers his school three-quarters.

Around 70% of his pupils receive free school meals, compared with the UK national average of almost 24%. Many people rely on food banks.

The school recently set up a crowdfunding page to raise £3,000 to buy uniforms, as many pupils cannot afford them. Many families are refugees and asylum seekers, huddled in makeshift hotel rooms.

Street quoted the American educator Rita Pearson: “When I came here, I was a person, and when I left, I will be a better person.” He said here Kids need a champion. “Of course parents are champions, but they’ve also been through a lot and a lot of them are struggling.”

Outside on the playground, a young man was playing football with a small group of boys.He is a full-time student at the school “Becoming a Man” Mentor, by mental health foundation Charity. It’s a space to talk about their emotions and he helps them focus on who they want to be.

With the school’s finances, like those of other schools, severely strained, it used whatever philanthropic funds it could find to meet student needs and bring in expertise.

Cash, a ninth-grader who has often gotten into trouble in the past, said he and his advisor would set goals for the week and discuss how to get things “back on track” when things went wrong. “I feel like I can talk to her, 100 percent,” he said. “It feels good that someone is listening.”

Kane, who is in Grade 11, credits school with helping him grow. He used to miss school and get into fights, but the school enrolled him in a program that rewarded good behavior with weekly boxing sessions. This changed his attitude.

“Here, teachers can become your friends,” he explains. “It’s not just about having someone to talk to when you’re worried, but telling them something that you’re excited about too.”

He emphasized how different the school is now. “It was a disaster. The behavior was terrible. It was a mess.”

Lily, another Year 11 student, added: “It’s safe now. I never feel scared. And there’s always someone you can talk to.”

“They did a lot to prepare us,” agreed her friend Kayla. “If they just kicked you out of school, people would continue to misbehave. But here, they give people a chance to correct their mistakes.”