Boundaries
Argh! As a parent, the word "boundaries" can feel so weighted. We all know how important it is to enforce boundaries with our children, but their resistance at times can make it feel so hard. And, naturally, we slip up. Recently, you may have read about the turnaround in behaviour at Ysgol Cil-Y-Coed and how reestablishing existing boundaries has had a significant impact on the school’s atmosphere.
It’s important to pause and reflect on why we have boundaries. What are they there for? What’s their purpose? As adults, with life experience and a mostly functioning pre-frontal cortex, we tend to understand boundaries more clearly. But for children, they often appear to be rules that just spoil their fun. And for children who’ve experienced trauma—whose brains are wired to be hypervigilant, constantly looking out for danger—it can be even harder to grasp the concept of a boundary.
I like the image of a farmer and his sheep. The sheep has a field to roam, but the farm is near a steep cliff. So, the farmer decides to build a fence around the field to prevent the sheep from wandering too close to the edge. At first, the sheep resists and tries to jump over the fence, but each time, the farmer gently brings it back, showing the sheep the cliff. Over time, the sheep comes to understand that the farmer isn’t trying to stop it from having fun, but is keeping it safe.
Safety is often an unknown concept when we’ve had to rely on ourselves to stay safe, or when the alternative to safety feels too distant or unreal.
There are two key points we can take from this story. First, the farmer consistently retrieves the sheep—not just when he feels like it, but every time. Second, the farmer returns the sheep gently. For those of us who work with trauma, we may recognise the importance of this gentle yet firm approach—what some call the "two hands of parenting" (Dan Hughes, 2011). Both are crucial.
So, how did the headteacher at Ysgol Cil-Y-Coed achieve such a turnaround in behaviour? If the boundaries exist but aren’t consistently upheld, children can become confused. To feel safe, they need to know where they stand. The children at this school were aware of the rules, but when those rules weren’t consistently enforced by either the staff or students, there was no clear understanding of whether the boundaries really mattered. It’s not specified in the article how the headteacher connects with the children, but the importance of consistency is clear.
It’s suggested that the discipline was “too soft,” which raises the question: how does he approach the students? From the positive responses, it seems his method is working, but I’d be curious to hear others' thoughts on how to strike the balance between softness and firmness in setting boundaries.