The Case I Can’t Forget is a weekly series that hears from the people working at the coalface of public service about the cases they have carried with them throughout their careers.
This week, teacher Marcus Leon writes about Michael*, a pupil with a history of school exclusions, who fell in with the wrong crowd – to devastating consequences.
If you have a story you’d like to tell, email lucy.pasha-robinson@huffpost.com
Michael* came to our school in Year 8 through a managed transfer, after being excluded from his previous school. Coming to our school was a second chance because even at the young age of 14, he had already experienced the rejection of an institution.
He was from a supportive home. He had the support of both his parents. He had strong role models in his family. The issue was with external influences from gangs.
Michael joined the school’s inclusion department, which I managed, shortly after he arrived at the school for bad behaviour: defiance, truancy, failure to follow staff instructions, disrupting the learning of other students. This meant, for the second time in his life, he was, again, at risk of exclusion.
During the time Michael was with us his behaviour worsened. He became even more disillusioned. He seemed to care less about the consequences of his behaviour. We tried everything we could, from requesting psychologist referrals, to daily behavioural strategies and everything in between.
His parents became increasingly worried. Their ability to get through to him loosened and numerous meetings with them and him changed nothing. Michael had been radicalised and yes, I mean radicalised. Michael was clearly being influenced outside of school. He was devoted to being a gang member and living that lifestyle.
When his behaviour grew so extreme that he attempted to assault a member of staff, we had to move him to another school. It was the third time Michael had been let down by the system. He was at the next school for another four or five months before he was expelled, again, for poor behaviour.
We brought him back to our school. Permanent exclusion from the education system should be the absolute last resort because we know it contributes to a domino effect from expulsion, to crime, to prison. But his behaviour got so bad that other students’ safety was at risk.
Michael was permanently excluded in 2017.
In 2018, just one year later, he was murdered yards away from his home. That year saw the highest number of deaths from youth violence in over a decade.
I had worked with him over a period of two years before he died. I felt powerless, guilty and most of all, angry.
There were multiple suspects, and a few arrests days after the murder, which is rare in these types of cases. But it brought little solace. The effect of Michael’s death on the students and the school was tangible and long-lasting. There were lots of conversations and questions aimed at us, the staff: Why did this happen? What could have prevented it?
You could feel the hopelessness. And a lot of us still feel in the dark. Another young man on the news, for the wrong reasons. I will never forget the heart-breaking words from his parents, who found him. It’s harrowing as a teacher but it’s nothing compared to what they have had to go through.
Michael is like many young people who live in deprived areas of London who are exposed to gang culture and crime from a very young age.
These young men are expected to have the mental strength to rebuke advances for recruitment into gangs and safely navigate these situations. This isn’t a new problem, and it’s not a race problem either. One of the main issues is education and expulsion from school. Over half the people in prison today were expelled from school as children.
Our job in inclusion departments that exist across London is to try and reduce permanent expulsion wherever we can, and help those at risk know their triggers. We help them learn how to cope with stress and trauma, and address any difficulty in their learning. We help them to access the education they need and deserve.
But the truth of it is that there aren’t enough facilities or alternatives for students at the highest risk of exclusion. The institutions and services that are supposed to help them are either under so much pressure they physically and mentally can’t cover the cracks, aren’t funded properly, or are shut down completely.
I’ve also worked as a youth worker at the Avenues Youth Project since 2010, a youth club that provides activities outside of school hours for young people. In 2017, its government funding was cancelled.
What used to be a service that provided access to support five afternoons a week, that provided holiday programs and life-changing opportunities to access training in things like music and video production, became one evening a week of basic support, and us barely having enough funds to keep the lights on.
These are the type of services that have been gutted by government cuts.
I’ve been a teacher and youth worker for ten years. I wanted to work in the community I grew up in. Supporting young people that reminded me of me at their age was and is my biggest drive. But it’s getting harder and harder to succeed in doing that.
In my work, I have begun to see the death of young men in London as an occupational hazard. It’s on the news weekly. How has this become normal? As a teacher and soon to be parent, I feel completely helpless and, worse, disillusioned with the system. I fear that I will never be able to succeed in the job I have been asked to do – to protect young people who are at risk. No student should be failed by a system that is supposedly designed to give them all the tools to succeed and thrive in life.
We are all products of our environment. Young people in school deserve services both in and outside of school that support them. They deserve the resources to give them a fighting chance at living.
*Names have been changed to protect identities
The Case I Can’t Forget is a new series from HuffPost UK that hears from those on the frontline of public service about the cases they have carried with them throughout their careers. If you have a story you’d like to tell, email lucy.pasha-robinson@huffpost.com.