Stories are experiences shared. From experience comes ideas about how teachers move between teaching their subject and coaching their students.
These stories are actual moments from classrooms and conversations.
Some are light.
Some are more challenging.
Each one shows how a small shift can change what happens next.
The good news is, starting small is enough.
There are 4 stories here.
You don’t need to read them all. Start anywhere.
When you have read enough, you are welcome to explore the Coaching Moves contained in each story.
Slowing down a moment of tension
They were fighting in the corridor.
Sixteen years old, full of testosterone, and both bigger than I was. It wasn’t quite a full fight — more pushing and shoving — but now they had locked onto each other’s shoulders like two elk, antlers pressed together.
That might not have mattered, except for the group of younger students watching nearby, their faces showed a mix of awe and fear.
As the only teacher there, I had to do something.
I walked towards them.
“Oh, and what are you doing?” I asked, as though they were idly playing marbles.
They didn’t let go. They spoke in single words, still gripping each other.
“He… started… it.”
Both of them said it.
I knew I would never get to the bottom of whether it was push or shove that started it. And, in truth, I didn’t need to.
“What made you push him?” I asked one.
“And what made you shove him?” I asked the other.
“He said I was a…”, one muttered — and shoved.
“He called me a…”, the other replied — and pushed.
“Oh… and how did that make you feel?” I asked them both.
Something shifted.
Their arms were still locked, but the struggle had slowed. They were no longer trying to overpower each other. They were thinking.
“And how often will you let him decide how you feel?” I asked.
They paused.
Neither of them answered.
I’m not sure I could have answered that question myself.
The moment hung there.
Then one of them laughed.
“Aww, we’re just friends.”
They let go, slapped each other on the back — in a very manly way — and the tension dissolved.
“Well,” I said, “go and be friends somewhere else. You’re scaring the little ones.”
They ran off down the corridor and out into the playground.
Only then did I notice the younger students still watching me, wide-eyed.
“Line up outside your classroom,” I said.
They did, instantly, and stood there like small soldiers, waiting for their teacher to arrive.
In a moment that could have escalated, the teacher chooses not to react with force or authority, but with curiosity questions.
The questions slow the situation down, shift attention from blame to reflection, and allow the students a vital moment to regain control of themselves.
Pause, and use questions to turn reaction into reflection.
The next time you see tension rising:
Resist the urge to step in immediately
Ask a question instead
Give the moment time to change
Afterwards, reflect "What happened when you didn’t rush to control the situation?"
Seeing the student behind the behaviour
Anthony was sixteen, and by the time I met him, he had already been labelled.
Difficult. Disruptive. Dangerous even.
Teachers had explained to him — many times — that what he was doing was wrong. His mother had told him. The school counsellor had told him.
Nothing changed.
In fact, the more he was told, the more firmly he seemed to hold his position. Being removed from lessons had only strengthened his identity as “the difficult one”.
When we spoke, I chose not to start with what he was doing wrong.
Instead, we explored something different.
I introduced a set of cards, each with a value written on it — like Respect, Freedom, Belonging, Success. I asked him to sort through the cards and choose the ones that mattered most to him.
At first, he was unsure.
Then, slowly, he began to choose.
As he talked about his choices, something became clearer — not just to me, but to him.
He could see why he had been making the choices he was making.
They weren’t random. They made sense, given what mattered to him.
That changed the conversation.
Instead of trying to stop a behaviour, we began to look at how he could move towards something he actually wanted.
Together, we shaped a different goal — one that still honoured his values, but also worked for the people around him, including his mother, whom he cared about deeply.
To make it more concrete, he created a simple vision of who he wanted to become.
For the first time, he wasn’t being told to change.
He could see a reason to.
When behaviour is addressed only at the surface level, change is often temporary — or resisted.
When a student understands what drives their behaviour, new choices become possible.
Work with values — understand what matters to the student before trying to change their behaviour.
When a student’s behaviour seems stuck:
Ask what matters to them
Explore what they care about, not just what they do
Look for the connection between their values and their actions
Afterwards, reflect, " What changed when you focused on understanding rather than correcting?"
From resistance to purpose
I was invited into a school to speak with a group of students who were struggling.
They were recent arrivals to Sweden, mostly teenagers, learning Swedish because they had to. Every subject was being taught in a language they did not yet understand.
Their teachers were doing their best — encouraging, insisting, pushing them to study harder.
The students were pushing back.
In fact, they had reached a kind of stand-off. The more the teachers pushed, the more the students resisted.
My role that day was not to teach a lesson, but to shift something.
I began by getting to know the group, and letting them get to know me. Then I invited one student to come forward for a short coaching conversation, in front of the class.
Khaled volunteered.
We agreed that we would explore who he was and what he wanted.
I asked him about his life — who he was, what mattered to him — but he couldn’t see beyond his current situation. Everything was focused on the present, and the struggle he was in.
So I asked him to do something different.
“Step back,” I said, “to when you were five years younger. Who were you then?”
He paused, smiled, then began to describe a younger version of himself. He had been happier then. More relaxed. More confident.
Something softened.
Then I invited him to step forward.
“Now go five years into the future. Who are you becoming?”
He stood differently this time. Taller. More certain.
“I am an ambassador,” he said. “For my people. Helping others. Making peace.”
The room was quiet.
Then I asked him to step back to today.
“What do you need now, to become that person?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I need to learn Swedish.”
He turned to his teachers.
And he asked them to teach him.
When students resist pressure, pushing harder often strengthens that resistance.
By connecting learning to identity and future purpose, motivation shifts from external pressure to internal drive.
Shift from push to pull — connect learning to who the student wants to become.
When a student seems unmotivated:
Ask about who they want to become
Explore their future, not just their present
Then ask: what do you need now to move towards that?
Afterwards, reflect, "Did anything change when the goal became personal?"
The power of being heard
I was working with a group of trainee teachers.
They had come together to talk about their experiences in the classroom; what was working, what wasn’t, and how they were coping with the daily challenges of teaching.
At one point, the conversation became more animated.
One teacher began describing a difficult situation. Another quickly joined in. Then another.
Before long, they were talking over each other, each trying to explain their situation, each wanting to be understood.
It would have been easy to step in, organise the discussion, and bring structure back to the room.
Instead, I let it unfold for a moment.
Then I asked a simple question, “Who is listening?”
The room became quiet.
They looked at each other.
No one answered.
After a pause, one of them smiled.
“I just needed to get it off my chest,” she said.
That seemed to resonate with the others.
They weren’t really trying to solve anything yet.
They needed to be heard.
From there, the tone of the conversation changed.
They began to listen to each other more carefully. Not to interrupt. Not to fix. Just to understand.
The quality of the conversation improved, not because I gave them a solution, but because they experienced what it meant to listen.
Often, the first need in a conversation is not advice or solutions, but to be heard.
When that need is met, people become more open, reflective, and ready to think.
Listen first — create space for people to be heard before trying to solve anything.
In your next conversation with a student or colleague:
Notice your urge to respond or fix
Pause, and focus on listening instead
Let the other person finish fully before you speak
Afterwards, reflect, "What changed when you focused on listening?"
These stories show what a coaching classroom can look like.
The next step is to understand what is happening in these moments, and how you can begin to use the same approach in your own teaching.