The recent Teacher Tapp Behaviour Barometer Report (November 2024) features an intriguing graphic. After asking 10,008 teachers, “When is student behaviour at its worst in your school?” it concluded:
“Behaviour is at its worst over lunchtime, but also lesson transitions are bad for secondary schools” (p. 12).
An image of pent-up energy being periodically uncorked immediately comes to mind.
Transitions, I understand. Hundreds of people simultaneously moving from one location to the next at the sound of a bell. In many cases, architecture seems to be part of the problem. Narrow corridors often prove insufficient for the volume of students, with bottlenecks exacerbated by protocols requiring pupils to pull over and line up outside their next destination, further squeezing the space.
Add to that the likelihood of each pupil carrying a rucksack on their back or a bag on their shoulder—another factor contributing to congestion. The situation becomes even more hectic if a class is let out late, forcing students to jostle past those waiting to enter, joining (or swimming against) the flow.
When it works, organised chaos might be the best phrase to encapsulate this ritual.
Many schools have instructed staff to be out in the corridors, though this is not always practical due to other pressing demands on their time—such as following up with students about a concern, addressing an issue from the lesson, or completing multiple reports assigned to monitor pupil behaviour.
Some schools have painted dividing lines and arrows on the floor, while others have implemented one-way systems. I recall visiting one school that had laid carpet, claiming it deadened the sound and created a sense of calm. Along the same lines, a school I am currently working with has replaced the jarring sound of a bell with soothing classical music.
I pause to consider the 50% difference between break and lunch. Typically, breaktime is shorter and earlier, with sustenance likely to feature in both timeslots.
My research lends depth to the reported 8% attributed to poor behaviour in lessons.
“The timing of the lesson appeared to be significant. Of the recorded detention incidents I analysed, 3,122 noted the time the sanction was issued: there was a clear trend to disruptive incidents which built as the day progressed. According to the data, period 5 (2.15–3.15 p.m.) was nearly two-thirds more likely to witness disruptive behaviour than period 1 (8.55–9.55 a.m.).
The statistics indicate that the arousal level of the groups increased throughout the day.
The pattern was also substantiated by a small sample of Year 7 and Year 9 pupils. It became apparent that the periods were not dependent on specific subjects, lessons, or teachers. My own perplexity in light of this experience is documented in my diary blog:
I take Y9 history group Tuesday period 1 and again on Thursday period 5—what a difference! Tuesday it takes all my energy to get them going, whilst Thursday they arrive ‘buzzing’ with social baggage and very much offended, even insulted, by the prospect of having to divert to the learning agenda” (Warren & Bigger, 2017, p.147).
One strategic response we implemented was to lengthen breaktime, rebranding it as Brunch, while shortening lunchtime. We also moved Assembly and extended Form Time from the start of the day to just after lunch in an effort to restore a sense of calm before afternoon lessons.
For me, this phenomenon added a new dimension to my research, enabling me to observe, gauge, and steer the collective energy as individuals converged within that confined space we commonly call a classroom.