What if behaviour isn’t the problem?
What if it’s the invitation?

You know the drill. We spend so much time trying to “manage” behaviour. The charts. The plans. The strategies. We pull out every tool to fix what we see in front of us. But what if the behaviour isn’t what needs fixing?

What if the behaviour is the signpost? The invitation to look deeper?

When you change your lens, you change your response. And that changes everything.

Seeing the Need
Every behaviour is driven by a need. That’s the part we sometimes miss in the rush to respond. A child’s behaviour isn’t random. It’s not about making your day harder. It’s their way of saying, “Something’s going on in here. Can you see it?”

What’s the need? Is it safety? Is it connection? Is it rest? Is it the need to feel powerful in a world that often feels too big?

When we stop asking, “How do I stop this behaviour?” and start asking, “What’s the need underneath this?” that’s when we move from firefighting to guiding.

Spotting the Bid for Connection
So often, the behaviours that push our buttons are really a child’s clumsy way of asking for connection. The child who calls out, who pushes limits, who invites conflict they’re not pushing us away. They’re asking for connection, in the only way their nervous system knows how.

It took me a long time to see this. The child who seems hardest to reach is often the one reaching the hardest.

The Story We Tell Ourselves
This is where it gets personal. Because how we see behaviour isn’t just about the child, it’s about the story we tell ourselves about what that behaviour means.

Do we see it as disrespect? Defiance? Or do we see it as a child doing the best they can with what they’ve got right now?

A classic example of this for my comic book friends: think about Magneto and Professor X, two people shaped by the same trauma, the same pain. One becomes a hero, one a villain. Not because of what happened, but because of the story they carried about it and the way the world responded.

The same is true in our classrooms. When we change the story we tell ourselves about a child’s behaviour, we change the way we show up. We stop seeing a problem to fix and start seeing a child to understand.

The story you tell shapes your nervous system, your tone, your presence. And that shapes the child’s next move.

Choosing Curiosity Over Control
In the heat of the moment, it’s easy to default to control. To try and contain, manage, stop. But what if we led with curiosity instead?

What’s happening for this child?
What’s their nervous system feeling right now?
What’s mine feeling?

Curiosity opens doors. Control closes them.

When we choose curiosity, we move from reacting to responding. From managing to connecting. From power over to power with.

A Personal Reflection
I’ve seen it play out so many times. The moment where I’m about to clamp down on behaviour, and something inside me says, “Wait. What’s really going on here?”

And in that pause, everything shifts. I see the child’s eyes, wide, uncertain, watching to see which version of me is about to show up. I feel my own breath. I realise I was bracing for battle when what was needed was connection.

The behaviour wasn’t the problem. It was the invitation. The invitation to slow down. To look deeper. To choose connection over correction.

Try This
Next time you feel that pull to control, pause and ask:

• What need is this behaviour pointing to?

• What’s the child asking for without words?

• What’s the story I’m telling myself about this?

• What happens if I choose curiosity right now?

None of this is about doing it perfectly. It’s about noticing. It’s about offering the child and yourself, a little more space to breathe.

A Quiet Invitation
So here’s what I’d offer you: pause and notice the story you’re telling yourself the next time a child’s behaviour challenges you. Is it a story of battle or one of understanding? Is it the lens of control or the lens of curiosity?

Because just like heroes and villains, it’s not only what happens that shapes the path. It’s the story behind it, the way it’s seen and the way we choose to respond.

When we change our lens, we change our response. And that changes everything.

May your stories hold your power.

Jason