Recognising the lurking hurt behind students' attitude

Teaching teens has never been easy. They are in a phase of life filled with emotional ups and downs, figuring out who they are, and wrestling with struggles they don’t always talk about. The pandemic didn’t just disrupt school. It shook their whole world. Routines vanished, friendships shifted, and that sense of safety so many kids rely on just wasn’t there anymore.

Add to that parents who are ever busy and can’t always be present, the complexities of modern families, and the constant buzz of social media. It’s no wonder the classroom has changed dramatically today. Now it is not just a place for lessons anymore; it’s where teaching, listening, guiding, and caring all meet. However, it can feel very uncomfortable for many teachers.

Yes, teachers are expected to do it all: cover the material, keep the class on track, instil good values, and somehow also be a soft-landing spot for students who are hurting. It is a huge task. Sometimes it feels almost impossible. However, the truth is, when a student acts out or seems rude, it’s not really about defiance. It’s pain showing up in the only way they know how.

I learned this early on in my career. There was a student in one of my first classes — incredibly bright, but constantly causing disruptions. At first, I just saw him as difficult. After yet another outburst, instead of another public reprimand, I asked him to meet me after class. He was guarded, even arrogant, at first. But slowly, he began to talk. His parents had split up, his mother had remarried, and a man he had long known as a family friend was now his stepdad. He missed his biological father terribly and was struggling to accept his new reality. I could not fix his family situation, but I could listen. That one conversation changed how I saw him, and slowly, it changed how he behaved in class, too.

That experience taught me something crucial: often, a teenager’s behaviour is their way of saying, “I’m not okay.” We cannot solve every problem they bring to us, but we can notice. We can acknowledge their pain. We can respond with empathy. And that recognition alone can change things, for them and for us.

So, what do we do when we are faced with a student who seems troubled or just hard to reach?

Start with connection, not correction: Rules matter, but they should not be your first move. Teens respond when they feel seen and heard. A private conversation, away from their peers, protects their dignity and builds trust. They might be defensive at first, but patience usually pays off. Once that defensive wall comes down, many are eager to be heard.

Know your role and its limits too: We are teachers, not therapists or saviours. Trying to “fix” a student’s personal life can lead to burnout. What we can offer is a safe space, a listening ear, and steady support. Referring a student to a counsellor when it’s needed isn’t a failure; it’s responsible teaching.

Make room for feelings in the classroom: Small things make a difference. Reflective writing, thoughtful discussions, stories that mirror, and real-life struggles let students explore emotions indirectly. Even in subjects like math or science, you can foster collaboration, dialogue, and respect. When students feel emotionally settled, they learn better.

Don’t forget to care for yourself: Supporting teens in distress day after day is definitely draining. Schools need to recognise this by creating spaces for teachers to talk, offering training in adolescent psychology, and providing access to support. You cannot pour from an empty cup.

Make learning connect to their lives: Teens disengage not because they can’t focus, but because traditional pedagogies often feel disconnected from their reality. Connect and relate the subject to real-world issues, current events, and ethical questions. Use projects, group work, and storytelling to channel their energy into something meaningful.

Above all, remember, students are constantly watching how teachers handle situations. When you listen without judging, correct without shaming, and stay kind even when firm, you are teaching them how to be human in a complicated world. The classroom today is more than just a place to finish a syllabus.

Importantly, it reflects our world, with all its brokenness, digital noise, loneliness, and uncertainty. And, teachers are on the front lines of that harsh reality. The burden, of course, can be heavy, but the impact also is profound.

That student from years ago taught me an important lesson: a single moment of understanding can change a young person’s path. Teaching teens today isn’t just about knowing the subject. It’s about empathy, patience, and support, for them and for ourselves. When we get that balance right, even the most difficult classroom can become a place where healing and learning grow, together.

(The author is a former professor and dean of a Bengaluru-based university)