Is That a Challenge!?

I spent most of today in a seminar on ‘Dealing with Challenging Behaviour’, which focused quite a lot on challenging behaviour in children specifically. It was hugely helpful, especially given that my work requires me to deal almost exclusively with children.

Hearing some of the anecdotes that came out of the seminar, in particular one from a youth worker who recalled an occasion where a child with learning difficulties attacked her with a bat with a nail in the end and a knife. Being attacked by someone is terrifying enough without weapons entering the fray, but the way which she was able to laugh off being confronted by a dual-wielding youth was quite astounding.

The seminar ran in the centre where I work, which is why I was there, which was handy for me as I then got to go straight to work and put my newfound challenging-behaviour-dealing-tactics into use. And skies above did I deal with some challenging behaviour! The answer is no really, as the commonsense message of the seminar was: the best way to deal with challenging behaviour is to stop it before it happens.

In order to effectively deflate difficult circumstances you pretty much have to pay attention and chill people out before they get to the point of keyboard-duelling and each-others-head-punching. In this way I came to realise how unobservant I am usually. This was also illustrated to me last Friday, when I met up with an old friend who spent most of the night glancing surreptitiously off to the sides of the pub and raising his eyebrows as though to signify “See that guy there?”, to which my answer would be “No”. I realised I am far more inward looking than I ever realised.

This is particularly annoying as I have writing aspirations, and one accepted truth of writing is that rounded, real characters are written by people-watchers. The more people you know/meet/observe, the wider the experience pool you have to draw from in imagining characters. This possibly doesn’t bode well for me, and may also explain why observational comedy often falls flat for me.

Observational Comedian: “Hey, have you seen that aeroplane food?”

Me: “No, I was playing my GameBoy Advance.”

Observational Comedian: “What’s up with that!?”

Me: “I’m not down with that.”

It may also inform my enjoyment of the works of Richard Herring, as the larger theme of a lot of his work is drawn from himself, either things he’s done, or attempting to understand or express himself more fully, rather than drawing on things which he has observed. I’ll end the comedy-philosophising here, for though I am incredibly fond of picking it apart, it is a fondness the world doesn’t share. (Fuck you, the world).

I also misread Facebook as Facebok, and then spent a time splicing famous internet sites with animals, but I could only manage Micepace, Beebo, Foalobucket, Newtube and Titter before I realised that I was wasting valuable living time with this exercise, so I ran out of work, saved some orphans, made poverty history and swanned off into the sunset with a sexy lady. She had a husky voice and was slightly intimidating.

There were fireworks.

But basically I have learned that the way to deal with challenging behaviour is to be nice and personable, and that if people are utterly dedicated to being a pain then they will be regardless of how diplomatic you are. So I have been in a good mood all day, which means I, and those around me, have had more fun than they would have.


I hate it when the answer is as simple as that. I am going to have to find a way to force myself into a good mood every day. And get paid for it.

There'll be fireworks.